#so it's less 'can't sleep' more 'won't sleep'

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 29

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

You peel off the suit and wring it out. You leave it in the bathroom to dry, but more so you don't need to look at it. You've never been so humiliated in all your life. 

Worse than your mother's bitter grumbles, or the way your grandmother used to nitpick at every part of you was that look in Steve's eyes. It was like nothing you've ever seen before. Not angry, not judging, but something mysterious that unsettled you. 

Ugh. You sneer at the wall as you pull on the baggiest tee shirt you have. You hate yourself. No, you hate your body. No matter what you do, it's clumsy and somehow you get in the way of yourself. 

You shimmy into a pair of pajama shorts and flop onto your bed. You could read but your head won't let you focus. Drawing isn't an option either, you're still shaking from the exposure. 

Sleep. Well, that won't come. Every time you close your eyes, you just see Steve and the water, and your nakedness. You can't imagine what your mother would've said if she'd saw. 

She hadn't, had she? 

You roll over and hide your head under your arm. You just lay there, desperate to escape somehow. The hours wear on, the day shifting around your unmoving form, the stagnant house dampening your skin with sweat.  

When you finally get the strength to flip onto your back, you realise you've been crying. You sniffle and mop your cheeks. You don't know why you're crying. Humiliation, sure, but don't be such a baby. 

You sit up cradle your head until it's a little less fragile. You get to your feet and shuffle out to use the bathroom. You pointedly ignore the pink checkered fabric. 

When you're done, you go to the kitchen. You look in the fridge. Not much there. You take out an old cup of pudding and fish out a spoon. You sit at the table and stir it but don't eat.  

You remember when you were a kid, your grandma would give you tapioca. Your mother only ever got banana. You hate banana pudding. It tastes so artificial. 

You're not a kid anymore. You're realising that now. It's time to be an adult. You don't have a place here anymore. Your mom has Steve and you have... nothing. 

The front door whines on its ungreased hinges. You wince and look up, shove a spoonful into your mouth. 

Steve appears. He has a tee on but still wears his swim shorts. You look at him dully and swallow, scooping up more of the pudding. 

"You hungry? You could have come over for lunch." 

You shrug and keep eating. Your stomach sickens at the overly sweet treat. You want to spit it out. 

"You're still mad?" He asks. 

You shrug again. 

He sighs. He crosses the room and pulls out the chair across from you, "look, sweetie," he twines his fingers through each other as he rests his arms on the table, "I'm real sorry. I was trying to have some fun. I made a mistake. We all do, right?" 

You stare at the table and nod. 

"Right, so can we move past it? Forget it ever happened?" 

"Forget?" You echo in a croak. "Erm." 

"Wiped clean," he unweaves his fingers and makes a smooth motion over the table top. "How about it? Can you forgive me?" 

You let the spoon go and slide the cup aside. You can't look up. It's more than the embarrassment of what happened. It's the constant shame that follows you around. You're just a hanger-on. He doesn't have to keep pretending because of your mom. She deserves to have a life after all the years she wasted on you. A life without you. 

"I'm sorry. I'm... I'm going to find a job and I'll do my best and..." you ramble as you trace your fingers on the table and tilt your head back and forth, "and you won't have to worry about me." 

"Sweetie?" He reaches over to still your hand, "what are you talking about?" 

"I shouldn't be... I shouldn't be living with you. Or mom. You two... I'm in the way--" 

"In the way? Sweetie," he squeezes your hand, "I promise you that's not true." 

"It has to be." 

"Why? Why does that have to be true?" 

"Because no one wants me," you turn your face down but he won't let go of your hand so you can hide. 

"I know that's not true," he insists.  

"It is. You see it. My mom..." you shudder and hold back a sob, "hates me." 

He's quiet. He clings to you even as you try to pull free. "I don't hate you." 

"You barely know me." 

"Sweetie, I know enough. Just enough to know you're a sweet girl. A good girl. All this time you've been taking care of your mom. Not anyone does that, you know? Most people would just leave her behind," he brings his other hand up to pet your knuckles, "and you're considerate and kind and gentle." 

"Please," you wisp and tug on your hand again, "you don't have to--" 

"I want you," he interjects as he tightens his grip, "sweetie, look at me." 

Your eyes flick up, startled by his hold and his tone. 

"You said no one wants you? I do. I shouldn't. I know it. I... I saw the way you take care of Holly, I saw how hard you try, I saw it all and I--" 

He finally lets you go. You recoil, shocked. Your hand tingles and your heart races. He doesn't mean it like that. He can't. You blink and lean back, making yourself as small as you can. 

"I'm sorry," he drops his head into his hands, "I'm sorry, sweetie. I'm trying not to feel like this. I've been fighting myself but..." he looks up, fingers stretched up his cheeks as his eyes glimmer, "I... don't love your mom. I only married her so... so..." he closes his eyes and trembles, "I shouldn't say it." His lashes flick open and he sits up straight, "so I could take care of you. That's why. But I couldn't... be honest. Because I didn't want to scare you or lose you. Just having you close is enough so I lied." He sniffs and a tear rolls out, "worse, I couldn't even be honest with myself. Not until now. Until it's too late." 

You gape at him. He just watches you. His expression is pained and sheepish.  

"Please, sweetie, say something." 

"You can't mean it," you breathe, "please take it back." 

"I can't," he utters. 

You sit in silence. You don't know what to say. You can't think. It's all too much. Why can't today just be over? 

He inhales and lets it out as he fixes his posture. He gulps thickly and you look up. He stares at you. The same look as before. The one you don't understand. 

"Sweetie," his voice is firmer and his tears are evaporated, "I have one question." You lower your brow, confused, "do you want your mom to be taken care of?" 

"What?" You squeak. 

"Your mom? You want her to be comfortable? Supported? Get the proper treatment?" He's staunch as he speaks, "you can't do it yourself. We both know you were struggling. Do you got the money for her next hospital stay? For the nurse?" 

You whimper and shake your head, "what do you mean?" 

"Sweetie, your mom needs me. You need me. Don't play dumb," he intones, "I will do anything. I will make sure mom is nice and cozy. She has her meds and everything she needs. There's only one thing I want in return." He clicks his tongue and inclines his head, "it's too bad it's the only thing you got." 

You stare at him. Through him. The whole world narrows in on you as your chest caves in. You close your eyes, wishing against everything, that it can make him go away. 

[daenysx]

hi!! can you write fluff about reader being scared of thunderstorm and sirius is comforting her??

thank you for requesting!! ♡ requests are open

sirius black x fem!reader, modern au + fluff

you cling to sirius tighter in bed as if that's possible.

the room is a bit cold with the rain outside, sirius got one more blanket for you before you fall asleep but he's the warmest still. your head is on his neck, his nose is buried in your hair to smell your shampoo. his bare arms are around you to pull you closer. he kisses your hair in his sleep.

raindrops hit the window cruelly, it's louder when there's no other noise. you are on the edge of falling into a deep slumber, but you can still hear the noises. your leg finds its way under the blankets to stay in between sirius's legs, you press your ear to the pillow.

a brightness fills the dark room, lightning and then a noise of thunder. you flinch as if you've been woken up by someone throwing water on your face, your eyes wide open. another loud noise strucks the room and you lean to your elbow, your arm hits sirius without meaning to.

sirius blinks his eyes open, his hair is a mess as he lifts his head. he doesn't understand what happens until another light covers the room, he reaches for your hand blindly.

"baby." he whispers. "it's okay. it's- let me turn on the lights."

you sit on the bed as he leaves. he turns on the lights and rubs his eyes, he tries to fix his hair but it never works so he gives up. you look up to him, pushing the blankets off. "sorry, siri." you say. "i didn't mean to wake you."

"nonsense, babe." he shrugs. he knows you'll not be able to sleep through the storm. you are already wide awake as if you didn't fall asleep. you hate the sound of the storm, how it feels like everything falls apart outside. it's a scary thing to see the light first and wait for the loud noise of the thunder.

sirius comes back to your side, he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and rubs your cheek with his thumb. he is staying close in case you want him to hold you, his mind is slowly waking up. he gives you a smile, there's nothing to worry about.

"i think," he starts. "it's the perfect hour to drink a cup of tea, what do you say?"

"if you insist." you say, smirking just like he does. he distracts you and you let him.

"i can even carry you to kitchen." he offers but you know he's bluffing. "wanna be my princess?"

"thank you, but i prefer walking." you kiss his cheek as you leave the bed. he holds your hand on the way to kitchen, his steps are slow and unstable. he yawns, still not awake enough. you kiss his naked shoulder as a way of apologising to wake him up.

"up you go." sirius lifts you to sit on the kitchen counter. he turns on the lights before he puts some water into the kettle.

"thank you." you say, waiting for the water to boil. "you have work tomorrow, you won't get enough sleep."

sirius leans in to put his head on your shoulder. you hug his shoulders, his body between your legs as you stroke his messed up hair. he kisses you until it tickles your skin. you laugh, pulling his head gently to see his face.

"i can function just fine with less sleep, babe, you know i've gone to work countless times after we hang out."

a loud thunder mixes with the noise of kettle and you flinch. sirius holds your waist, his eyes are bright as he looks at you. a kiss on your nose, then on your jawline. "it's okay."

"i can't help it."

"i know." sirius squeezes the softness of your thighs, rubs the skin with comforting circles. the kettle stops. sirius brings two tea bags without lifting his hand from your leg. you help him take two mugs from the cupboard and he prepares teas with his one free hand.

"wanna stay here?" he asks. "or go the couch? or the bed? or-"

"we can go to bed." you smile.

sirius carries the mugs as you settle down on bed. it's not as warm as it was before, you move your legs under blanket. he puts the steaming mugs on his nightstand and wraps his arms around you.

the rain doesn't seem like it'll stop until the morning, sirius checks the weather forecast on his phone. he tightens his hold on you, brushes kisses on your hair. he hands you your mug as he takes a sip from his.

"careful, sweetness." he says, the tea is still so hot.

"i won't burn you, sirius." you say, chuckling.

"okay, maybe stop laughing with the hot tea in your hand."

"no, come on." you say, he puts both of your cups back to their places.

"hm, i don't trust you." he says, he buries his face to your neck, his fingers pressing to your waist. he tickles you until you squirm under him, laughing as if your life depends on it. he tires you out, you are breathless when he stops. the sounds of thunderstorm become faint with your laughs, sirius plays with you for minutes.

"okay." you say, your cheeks are blushing so hard. "okay, stop! i'll sleep, promise-"

"i'll sleep." you say. "just stop tickling."

"yeah?" he asks, smirking devilishly. "you'll sleep?"

"it was a pleasure to engage nightly activities with you, sweetling." he winks. "come on, you really should sleep now."

sirius quickly turns the lights off. you feel really tired, you snuggle against his body to get comfy.

"i think the storm is less loud now." you say. "is it?"

"yes, and it'll probably stop entirely in a few hours." sirius replies. "but if you feel uncomfortable, wake me up. don't try to get through the night by yourself."

"okay." you say, kissing him thanks.

"good night, baby." he says. the tea goes cold on his nightstand.

[zoi3e]

BEST INTREST

"if it's you and other, it's no need to worry, cause I can sleep between you."

dazai osamu x reader

warnings: agnst, hurt no comfort, song fic, unrequited love, dazai feeling guilty, implied female reader but no pronouns, reader is engaged someone un-named, suggestive implications, suicide implied (only at the end), reader is only with un-named person due to a forced marrige, death.

everything was great. it was only june in yokohama, yet it was so hot. especially more in this alley. well it'd probably be less hot with dazai's hands and mouth being all over you. he was always so clingy. but today he seemed more...well, off. he still was all over you whenever he could find a opening to pull you into some dingy alleyway. yet he seemed to drift off into his mind more often. he was so close yet so distant.

"darling, darling, darling, there's no need to worry! it's just a couple things in my brain, you know?"

originally, when one of your colleagues confessed to you, you had no answer. you were engaged at supposed to get married that summer to some rich business man who was from tokyo. not messing around with your senior colleague at a random job you got as a intern at a agency. in fact, he knew you were engaged with the ring on your finger. yet somehow you accepted. no one knew. but you were fine with that. he could sleep in between you and him. you didn't mind.

"if it's you and other, it's no need to worry, cause I can sleep between you."

"you know it won't work out. your just going to make things worse, they'll stay waiting for something that will never be between you unless you end it." is what ranpo told him. it itched at him all day. anytime he'd pull your hand into that alleyway and try to make himself feel better and distract himself by planting small kisses all over your neck and face. it just didn't work.

"i'm a third wheeler. i'm a side better. i'm a homewrecker. give it up."

he loved you. truly he did. but he was just a leech on your side. your smart, and yet somehow to him he's manipulated you self-consciously to make you feel as if this can stay. this can be. he wanted this so damn bad. but he knew some random detective who barely makes enough to get by himself would never be good enough for you.

"i can play the side (-) role easy, but not for too long. i'm the side (-) i gotta sneak around and hide with you. i wanna see you, give me five minutes. paparazzi probably like five pictures."

"but i just want you!" "i know, but we can't keep doing this. i can't just ruin your whole future you've built darli-" "just get out osamu!"

"don't want to fuck what you've got up. i would never blow your spot up. i know my place, i'm the landlord. i'll carry the weight till my hands sore. i can't keep doing this."

it was the day before the wedding. you couldn't take it anymore. you couldn't have dazai, but you just wanted to have freedom. even if you had to die to obtain it. you stared at the contact name on your phone screen. "osmau♡" you tapped the call button.

"dazai-kun. i think i want to take you up on that offer." .... "yes. 10? at the main docks?"

beep. beep. the sound of hospital machines beeped in dazai's ears. he opened his eyes, only to find yosano.

"...(name)..." he gasped out. his throat burns from how much salt water he took in when they jumped in hand in hand. she shook her head no. my heart hurts.

"i'll keep your best interest."

i kinda just used yōzō's story with him dying and his lover surviving for this lol.

the song is BEST INTEREST by Tyler, the Creator. I really like his music. anyways if you couldn't tell reader and dazai died together. yippee!

anways. have a good day, drink some water and don't do anything written in this fic. xoxo

[ghostofbambifanfiction]

Can't get to sleep so I tried to write. She said no.

[flufflecat]

Really not feelin it this week. Tag rant incoming

[hopefulqueer]

ow

[martsonmars]

desperately trying not to have a panic attack about university hehehe

[girlscience]

lack of sleep makes me weird

[falling-hand-in-unlovable-hand]

i'm so tired of fucking dealing with people today. i'm the only one awake in my house rn and somehow i'm still dealing with people

[whateveriwant]

The 141 getting you to stay in bed

It gets a little spicy towards the end so 18+ please

Soap

Waking up to the feeling of a numb arm is extremely unpleasant, but you suppose it comes with the territory when trying to cuddle 200+ pounds of rugged Scotsman

You manage to free your trapped limb and roll to the other side of the bed, but that space behind you remains empty for only about three seconds before Johnny's pressing himself flat to your back 

Now with his arms around your waist, he holds you tight to him, mumbling unintelligibly against the back of your head

He drifts back to sleep quickly enough, his grip on you starting to loosen, only for it to tighten again when he feels you try to wriggle out of his hold

The incoherent grumbles from his throat grow increasingly displeased the more you try to shift away from him, until finally he huffs a grumpy, “Quit it,” into your scalp, hooking his leg over yours 

If you still don't listen, he'll have no choice but to take drastic measures to keep you still. Fed up with your squirming, he simply rolls on top of you, pinning you to the mattress below him

You can try beating on his back, telling him that you can't breathe, but he just shrugs and says, “Use my breath.”

Don't even bother trying to explain how oxygen doesn't work like that, because he doesn't care. “Tough,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck. “‘Cause I'm no' movin’.” And by extension, neither are you

Gaz

Kyle is also a stage 5 clinger, but he's less boa constrictor and more baby koala

So when your alarm goes off at 8am precisely, it's no surprise that the man behind you grumbles in protest

“It's Saturday,” he bemoans. “Why you getting up so bloody early?” When you tell him you like to keep your routine even on the weekends, he just groans and mutters, “Five more minutes.”

You can try to squirm and wrestle out of his hold, but he'll just tighten his arm around your midsection, keeping his front firmly glued to your back

But you need to get up! You have to pee for goodness’ sake! 

“Use the empty bottle on your nightstand,” he mumbles into your hair, peeking an eye open as you crane to look back at him. The look you give him at such a horrid suggestion has him sighing. “Alright, fine,” he relents and releases you. “But be quick. Bed gets cold without you.”

Once you've answered the call of nature, don't be surprised to find Kyle waiting for you directly outside the bathroom. He's wrapped up in your comforter like an oversized burrito, only his face and feet visible as they peek out from under the plush cover

With a sleepy pout, he holds his hand out for you, tugging you back to bed with him. Oh, he’ll make sure you get those five more minutes alright. Even if he has to drag you kicking and screaming

Ghost

First of all, don't even kid yourself into thinking you'll stand a chance of waking up before him or sneaking out of bed without him knowing. This man is the epitome of a light sleeper, whenever he does sleep, that is

So when you do finally wake up, it comes as no surprise to see Simon already up too. But just because you're both awake now doesn't mean you have to immediately be productive; quite the opposite, in fact

With how busy and stressed he is all the time, Simon loves nothing more than to just lie in bed with you and do nothing for hours

If you try to get up, he's stopping you with a gentle hand on your wrist, his voice quiet but firm as he commands, “Stay.”

You'll lay back down for a bit to appease him, but it won't be long before you feel guilty since you have so many things you should be doing instead

But actually, no, you don't have  anything to worry about. He's already taken care of everything before you woke up, he humbly informs you

The cat's been fed, the bin’s been taken out to the curb, he's even gotten your breakfast typed up on his phone – just give him the word and he'll place the order

So now when he opens his arms for you, having you bury your face in his chest, you've got nothing to worry about except savoring this moment with him 

Price

John is also a very light sleeper, so it only takes .02 seconds of you trying to stand from the bed for his bear-like snores to cease and his eyes to flit wide open

He'll grab you by the shirt hem, mumbling, “Where’re y’ goin’?” But it doesn't really matter what your answer is because his response is always the same: “No y’r not.” And pulls you back down. “Y’r stayin’ right here.”

He'll lie on his stomach, face smushed in the pillow, a big, warm hand tucked under your shirt resting against your belly

With nothing better to do, you scroll through your phone, catching up on your socials, the news, etc., but it's not long before you hear him grumble, “Put that away, will ya? ‘S too early to be meltin’ your brain with that thing.”

Well, what does he expect you to do? Lie there and stare at the ceiling for an hour? “Expect you to be good,” he tells you. “Don't make me get the handcuffs out again.”

Now that you have to laugh at. If he thinks it's too early to be on your phone, it's definitely too early for that

He smirks, opening his eye just a sliver, and the hand on your stomach begins to rub soft circles. “Is that so?” he taunts, his touch sneakily edging downwards. And when he slips beneath the band of your shorts, well…

Let's just say you're not leaving that bed anytime soon

[mithrun-house-of-kerensil]

Lately, I've been thinking about Mithrun and the ways he is dehumanized in canon.

Before I get started, we know that elven society is incredibly afraid of death and illness. This is obvious in how they look down on the short lived races and see them as weak and childlike. We also know that Mithrun himself had ableist views toward his brother and these values did not leave him once he, himself, became disabled. He is a product of the society that raised him, but I also think how Mithrun is currently being treated contributes to his view of himself.

Mithrun has had three different caretaking groups over the years. The first are the ones his brother hired for him. From what we can see, they did the job, but we can understand that they did not know what to do with him. No one had ever recovered from having their desires eaten so the focus was less on rehabilitation and more on keeping him alive.

Later we see Milsiril take an interest in him because of his desire to return to the dungeon. Since she did not bother to visit him for decades after finding him, we can assume that there is an ulterior motive here. Timeline-wise, this was when the majority of the canaries had just been wiped out. They needed more men, and Mithrun is set up to be the perfect single-focused soldier.

Honestly, we can assume that Milsiril doesn't really care about him or see him as a person. Mithrun is just a new project for her to play with. We can see this in how she's focused on superficial level concerns like the fact that he doesn't look nice and wanting him to be overly grateful toward her. She also talks about him like he's not in the room and can't hear her. This is a dehumanizing trait shared by many characters when talking about Mithrun.

When he finally does recover enough to return to the canaries, the military does not make any effort to accommodate his needs. We know the canaries are understaffed and the ethics are already bad, but they really did not even try to care about Mithrun's safety at all.

Entrusting a criminal with his care was questionable at best, especially when Cithis immediately took the opportunity to abuse her power over him and no one stopped her.

While acknowledging the light-hearted nature of the manga, it's uncomfortable that Mithrun was treated like a child and an animal by Cithis for her amusement. Regardless of her 'learning to respect him' later, the point is that Mithrun was taken advantage of and degraded because she believed he couldn't say no. No one bothered to do anything about this until Pattadol yelled at her.

Truly his treatment is summarized well by Milsiril here. Mithrun is extremely vulnerable to being abused by those taking care of him because he won't advocate for himself. He has one desire so he won't fight for himself in any other way.

It is obvious that Mithrun was not treated well by his caretakers and this has resulted in him identifying his needs through a disconnected and frankly, infantilizing lens.

I understand that it may have been a translator's decision, but I always thought it was interesting that Mithrun says that he's "not sleepy" which is a childish term. Otherwise, he speaks like everyone else, if not rather posh.

This, followed by the fact that he is responsive to Kabru treating him like a literal infant to get him to eat, paints a clear picture of the fact that Mithrun is not unfamiliar with being treated like this. He responds to it because he's used to it and has no desire to argue with being treated this way. When we consider the fact that the chapter started with Milsiril treating an older child Kabru in the same way, it is likely that she also did the same thing to Mithrun when he was under her care.

In these panels, we see that Mithrun does not believe that he can sleep without magical assistance, even though it is immediately refuted when Kabru takes the time to bundle him up and help him relax. Not only does he fully believe he can't sleep without external assistance, but he states directly that there is no point in him getting comfortable.

As Kabru observes, Mithrun's inability to recognize his needs applies to needs such as hunger and exhaustion, but it obviously also applies to emotional needs. Kabru just wanting to feed him something delicious and not wanting him to give up on life is the most consideration someone has given Mithrun in years.

The relationship they form over the course of a single week is enough to shape Mithrun's behaviour completely. Mithrun ignores Cithis's demand in favour of asking Kabru's opinion. It is Kabru's hand Mithrun takes to pull him out of his defeated state. It is Kabru Mithrun confessed his true desire to.

Do you realize how depressing that is? All it took was the new perspectives from Kabru and Senshi to make him consider the fact that he should keep living despite no longer needing to fulfill his duty. Being treated well could have helped Mithrun much sooner and this shift in the way he sees himself contributes to his recovery going forward.

TLDR: Mithrun has no desire to be respected, but why does that make people feel comfortable acting like he doesn't deserve it? Someone not caring about being treated well doesn't give you permission to treat them poorly. This feels like a playschool-level consent lesson: just because he's not saying no to a humiliating or degrading act doesn't mean it's a yes and therefore okay to do. Acknowledging this is the bare minimum of treating him as a person.

[ladysharmaa]

My miracle

Anthony Bridgerton x reader

summary: Anthony’s wife is in labor and it’s not looking good

warnings: mentions of death

“Where is she?” the loud voice of Anthony was heard in the entire mansion. The door he opened slammed into the wall but he couldn’t care less as he saw some servants running his way to take off his coat. “Tell me where my wife is!”

“My apologies, my Lord.” the poor man trembled under the Lord’s menacingly glare, that were just a cover for the worry and fear that was running though his veins. “The Viscountess is in your chambers. The midwife and your mother are already present with her. Shall I inform your brothers to come and wait with you until the child is born?”

Anthony didn’t bother to respond. He quickly climbed the stairs, two steps at once, seeing with wide eyes as the maids ran to his room with towels in their hands. He doesn't even settle for knocking, immediatly opening the bedroom door. None of his mother's stories could have prepared him for the sight that lay ahead.

His darling wife was drenched in sweat, dressed in her nightdown. One hand was on her round belly protectively while the other was in his mother’s hands, who was whispering words of comfort. Her jaw was clenched in pain and it was only then that he noticed the midwife between the Viscountess legs. 

“You!” Y/n screamed accusingly, managing to point a finger at Anthony with hatred. “You did this to me! You will never ever put your hands on me again!”

“I-” Anthony was at loss of words. He knew that his wife was in pain, and looking like she was ready to kill, so he just nodded his head in agreement. He took slow hesitant steps towards the bed, hoping to comfort her without dying. “I’ll never touch you again, my love. How are you feeling?”

“How do you think I’m feeling? I’m pushing your child that inherited your big head out of my lady parts! So tell me, my dear husband, how am I feeling?”

“Like you are giving birth?”

“Anthony...” his mother whispered while shaking her head in dispair. “You should leave the room. Your brothers must be coming to keep you company. We shall call you when the child is born.” 

“I’m not leaving my wife.” was the only thing he said with firmity, holding Y/n’s hand and kissing her soft skin gently.

She turned to him, a change in her demeanor, eyes full of tears of terror. “I’m scared, Anthony. It hurts.”

“I know it hurts. It’s okay, love. You will be alright and then we will have our child with us.” he whispered. A feeling of guilt washed through him. How could he have made his wife suffer through childbirth? “You are the bravest person I know. So so much braver than me and everyone else. I’m so proud of you.”

"I can't do this. It hurts too much. Make it stop, Anthony, please." Y/n cried.

It was only then that Anthony saw the look in his mother. She was worried, exchanging looks with the midwife. And as much as the Viscount would like to also show his anguish, his first priority was to comfort Y/n. "It's going to be okay, my love. Just a little longer, you're being so strong."

But she no longer had the strength to respond. It was getting harder and harder to keep her eyes open and she just wanted to sleep to escape the pain. Between her legs, an increasingly larger pool of blood was forming. Anthony's eyes were wide and there was enormous pressure in his chest. It felt like I was running out of oxygen, and it only got worse when Y/n finally gave in to unconsciousness.

"What's happening?" he whispered, looking in alarm first at Violet. Afterwards, he turned to the midwife furiously. "What's wrong with her? Help her! Do something!"

"Anthony, you need to leave." Violet advised, trying to remain calm for everyone's sake. Anthony was becoming more and more desperate, tears falling from his eyes as he grabbed his wife's hand tighter and brought it to his lips.

"I'm not going anywhere!"

"Viscount Bridgerton, the baby is in pain. You won't want to see what I'm going to do. I promise I'll try to save both of them." the midwife said, taking a small knife and flying it over Y/n's stomach.

"If you need to choose, save my wife's life." Anthony begged, now more desperate as his mother called his brothers to take him out of the room.

"Anthony..."

"No, mother, you save my wife's life!" Benedict and Collin grabbed the man by the arms and began to carry him outside, despite Anthony's struggle. "You hear me! My wife is going to survive! Let me go! Mother, save Y/n!" he shouted before the door closed in his face. 

The last thing he saw was the woman making the cut on Y/n's stomach, who woke up with a jolt. She then let out a scream that would torment Anthony for the rest of his life.

With a cry of anger mixed with sadness, Anthony broke free from his brothers' grip and put his hands to his face. He didn't want to think about the possibility of losing the love of his life. He simply couldn't take it.

"Wow, Anthony, calm down." Collin whispered when Anthony, in a rage, threw a punch against the wall. "The Viscountess is a fighter. If anyone is capable of overcoming this, it's her."

"You don't tell me to calm down, Collin. Not when my wife is in that room fighting for her life over something I did." he cried, jaw shaking and eyes red that only showed the immense pain he was in. He sat on the floor, leaning his head back and looking at the ceiling. "I need her to live."

"And she will live, brother. I will bring a drink, and we will wait together for news." Benedict said, rushing to bring the alcohol when Y/n's screams became louder.

On one hand, each scream was like a stab in the heart of Anthony, who was increasingly pale and looked like he was going to vomit at any moment. On the other, it was the only way to know she was alive.

Moments passed. The Viscount didn't know if it had been seconds, minutes or hours. Things seemed to be getting mixed up in his mind. Nothing made sense, not when the love of his life was in the next room in pain and he was away from her. He had to protect her, it was his obligation as a husband. And he failed.

And then came the moment when Anthony's heart stopped. A baby's cry was heard, and he allowed himself to smile a little. He had a son or daughter. A mini version of his wife. And then he burst into tears when Y/n stopped screaming and everything became too silent.

It was uncontrollable. He cried without being able to stop, making it even difficult to breathe in. Anthony refused to believe that he would have to raise this child without Y/n. Without her affection, her kindness, her love. He didn't want to open his eyes and realize that all this wasn't a nightmare, but reality.

Benedict and Collin didn't know what to do. But one thing was certain, they would be there to help Anthony with whatever he needed and never let that child forget the wonderful mother he had. Then, Violet left the room holding a pile of blankets that held the baby.

"You have a daughter, Anthony."

He just cried more. His body was shaking and he couldn't even look at his mother and the baby. "Y/n... Is she...?" He took Violet's silence as a yes. "Oh god..."

"Enter the room, Anthony. She is waiting for you."

Anthony had never stood up so quickly in his life. He quickly opened the door, stopping momentarily when he saw the amount of blood on the sheets, but the most important thing was Y/n's half-open eyes. She was alive and looking around the room in confusion.

"Anthony? Where is my baby?" her voice was hoarse and extremely weak.

The man fell to his knees at the edge of her bed, and lowered his head to rest on her chest. A feeling of relief spread throughout his body when he felt the rising and falling movement of her chest, indicating that she was breathing and that it wasn't just his imagination.

"I love you so much." he cried, feeling her hands start stroking his hair. "I'm sorry. You were so brave and strong. I'm so proud of you, my love."

"Where is my baby?" Y/n didn't want to seem like she didn't appreciate Anthony's words because that was a lie. He was the most important person in her life. But at that moment, Y/n just wanted to know where her baby was.

"She's right here, dear." Violet reassured with a smile, announcing her presence.

Very carefully, she passed the child into the arms of her son's wife, her smile widening as the little family was finally together again. The new parents had a gentle smile as they looked at their creation, a new love emerging for this fragile human being.

Anthony kissed Y/n's temple. "We have a daughter."

"She is beautiful."

"She takes after her mother." Anthony quickly said, never feeling so much love as he did in that moment. 

He was extremely proud of Y/n admiring her strength and courage. Now, he was going to protect his two girls until the end of his life. Nothing was more important than his family.

[daytaker]

The Gang React to You Falling Asleep on Them

Lucifer

*deep sigh that speaks volumes to how difficult it is for this man to get any sleep, and here you are, conked out on his shoulder...*

If you don't wake up within a few minutes, he'll have no choice but to move. He is not the sort to be so sentimental that he can't bear the thought of disturbing your precious sleeping face. Of course, he won't be an asshole about it; he'll be careful and try not to wake you up. He might even drape his jacket over you for your nap.

But only if he doesn't need it.

Mammon

"Hey, my arm's gettin' a little stiff, can I just-- ...ah."

Oh. Ah. Alright. Cool. This is happening. Hmm. Damn. Not super comfortable, and it's kinda inconvenient to be trapped here, but, pshh, what's he supposed to do, wake up a sleeping human? He's heard that can lead to...cardiac arrest, or something. He ain't gonna murder you just to move a little sooner.

You did not just start snuggling him in your sleep. Did Mammon score today or did he score today? Too bad his arm's starting to fall asleep, but, well, nothin' in life is free.

Leviathan

"What...? WHAAAAAAT?" (But only in his brain. He doesn't want to wake you up. Mammon says that can lead to cardiac arrest in humans.)

He's pretty sure he's the one who's going to keel over from heart problems at this rate. He hadn't even realized you were getting sleepy. Are you bored watching him tackle this single-player old school RPG? Did you hate it all this time and you never even mentioned it?! Why is your face so close?! Do you not have any idea the kind of mental torture you're putting him through right now?!

Deep breaths, Levi. Deep breaths. This happens in anime all the time. It's...usually a good thing! It means that the main character and their love interest are tripping all the right flags, and... and how long is this scene going to last? Those scenes almost always end with the two still on the couch, then they skip to the next day or something. How long is he going to have to just sit here... suffering...?

After about ten minutes, he's reached his limit and he gently shakes you awake. He is so embarrassed that he insists you go to bed now, and he will not take no for an answer. Good night. Goodbye. *door slams*

AAAAHHHHHHHHH.

Satan

"Hm? Have you been getting enough sleep...?"

Satan would be very pleased with the situation, though probably less intensely excited than Mammon. He'll make whatever small adjustment is necessary for his comfort, then settle in and read for as long as it takes you to wake up. He feels very warm and fuzzy. It's nice. Hopefully you do this more often. But he should really ask you about your sleep schedule. Levi must be forcing you to stay awake too often.

Asmodeus

"Aww, aren't you adorable?"

This is precious. He needs to document it. As soon as he realizes what's happening, he'll carefully pull out his D.D.D., making sure not to wake you up, and start snapping pics. A few of you, a few dozen selfies with you, a few with him pretending to be asleep too, and then a perfect shot of him kissing your forehead. Grammable as fuck.

Er... is that drool he can see in one of those photos? ...You're going to have to wake up. You can't just drool on his brand-name jacket.

Beelzebub

"Oh."

He's used to people falling asleep on him, so this doesn't really throw him for much of a loop. However, he's a bit more careful of waking you up. He knows that if he wakes Belphie, he'll just fall back asleep within a few seconds, but you're not quite so adaptable. So he'll do his best to stay quiet and not move much.

But no matter how hard he tries, he's never going to be able to turn off his stomach. You'll probably wake up with a start as his stomach roars at you about twenty inches from your face.

Belphegor

"...zzzz..."

Who are we kidding, we all know he was asleep first. Probably, he's the reason you fell asleep so easily. He's soft and warm, perfect for drifting off to dreamland...

Diavolo

"Very bold! You really are astonishingly brave."

It's not every day someone has the stones to fall asleep in his presence, let alone fall asleep and use him as some sort of glorified pillow. What a nice change of pace.

He'll continue doing whatever it is he was doing before, but he is a busy demon, running the Devildom and all. He'll slowly and carefully extricate himself when it's time to move, then have Barbatos bring you a blanket and prepare some tea for when you wake up.

Barbatos

"Humans are awfully needy creatures, aren't they."

He can't help but chuckle. You just pass out during the middle of the day? Then again, it's possible you're probably not entirely well. He'll have to disturb the young master to ask what sort of accommodations to make for you. Of course, he's sure Diavolo won't mind. But it's irresponsible to let yourself drift off like this in the castle of the king of the demons, isn't it? This isn't a resort.

Sleep well, human.

Solomon

"You're just looking cute on purpose now, aren't you?"

Oh well! Looks like he's stuck here for now. Too bad. He'll smile, put an arm around you, kick his feet up, and settle in for the long haul. Hopefully you're able to get a good, solid nap in.

Most likely, you both will. He'll pass out too within ten minutes, give or take.

Simeon

"Oh- shh. There, there."

Well, if you aren't adorable... You must be so tired. He's glad you feel so at ease with him that you let yourself fall asleep, and you certainly look cute, but he's also a little concerned that you're this tired. He'll patiently wait for you to wake up. Then he'll make you some tea and gently remind you to take better care of your health.

Luke

"Eh...?! Hey! ...WAKE UP!"

How tired are you?! You need to get better sleep! Sheesh, you need to be more careful too. You almost crushed him.

[houseofanticipation]

After six months of leaving your window unlocked, someone finally took the bait.

You frequent some dark corners of the internet. When tumblr wasn't enough to get you wet anymore you turned to reddit, and when that stopped working you moved to 4chan. These days the sites you cum to don't even have names, their URLs are just strings of random letters and numbers. It was in one of these places that you saw the symbol.

The only identifying feature of the original poster was an off-putting avatar image of Sonic the Hedgehog's gaping asshole. The post was a single photo of the symbol, written in thick marker on a scrap of looseleaf paper. Below it, the text read: place this symbol in your window to let passersby know it's unlocked, and you're ready to be taken advantage of.

You came when you saw that symbol. (You had been touching yourself for hours at that point, but still, the symbol is what pushed you over the edge.) You saved a screenshot of the symbol, and in the nights that followed you touched yourself to it again and again, daring yourself to do it, imagining the things strangers could do to you in your sleep. When your better judgement finally caved to that insatiable need, you touched yourself again. You sat there for an hour, edging and watching that symbol in the window, until your mind felt slow and stupid with fantasies.

You did that a few more times in the following nights. But the after a week the fantasies alone weren't doing it for you anymore, and you were increasingly realizing something that probably should have been obvious from the beginning: most people aren't into the same disgusting shit you're into. The people in those ugly little corners of the web lived all over the world. What were the odds one of them would just walk past your first-floor apartment one day?

So you forgot about it. Mostly. You left it there, of course, but the more time went by the less you believed anything would ever come of it. You turned to other places to make you cum. Lately you've been getting off on posting pictures of yourself, letting strangers describe the ways they'd like to use and abuse you.

And then this morning you found three polaroid pictures placed neatly on your kitchen table.

All three pictures are of you, naked and asleep in bed. You started sleeping naked ages ago, at the advice of a tumblr post detailing how to be more of a slut. You're glad you did now, because the feeling you get looking at these pictures is like nothing you've ever felt before. It's electric, a vibration in your brain and the pit of your stomach that makes your legs wobble and your knees press together. The first picture is of your body, undisturbed, sleeping on your stomach with your ass in the air. The second is a view from the foot of your bed, your pussy pressed against the sheets and your legs open. The third is of your face, an unfamiliar hand brushing back your hair and an unfamiliar cock resting on your cheek.

Before you can even think you're falling to your knees, masturbating desperately and furiously to those pictures. When you cum it's labored, almost painful, your breath catching in your chest, your moans short and agonized. You manage to stand long enough to take the pictures to your bed, where you're able to scrape together the self-control to edge for about five minutes before you cum for a second time.

The one you can't tear yourself away from his that cock on your face. The knowledge that someone was that close to you without your knowing. Touching you. Pleasuring himself to you. When you cum for the third time, it's to the thought that he didn't rape you, as far as you can tell. That means he intends to come back.

That night you feel like a kid waiting for Santa Clause to come. You toss and turn, too excited to sleep, but terrified that he won't follow through with it if he can tell you're awake. You close your eyes and stay as still as possible. If you can't be asleep, the best you can do is appear asleep.

You wake to sunlight streaming through your window, a little surprised to realize you fell asleep at all. You can feel immediately that something is different; you've been violated, you can feel it in your clit and in your cunt. You hurry to the kitchen and find three new polaroids. The first is a close up of your pussy, already swollen and wet. The second is taken from the same angle, but this time there's a hand in frame, three fingers pushed inside you, stretching you out. The third sends a thrill up your spine. In this picture, a man with a Halloween mask pulled up to his forehead has his head buried between your legs. His face isn't visible from this angle, but it's clear he's eating you out. What really excites you, though, is the out-of-focus smudge in the corner of the shot: you're certain it's the edge of someone's finger. There was a second person in the room with you last night, holding the camera. You wonder if he was there the night before too. You wonder if anyone else has been in your room without you knowing.

When you've cum twice, you're able to think clearly enough to wonder how you managed to sleep through all this. This isn't a cock brushing your face; this is penetration, stretching, clitoral stimulation. That isn't the kind of stuff you sleep through, is it? You get off for a while imagining you really are just that much of a whore, that you can have three fingers inside you and barely notice a thing, but then you spot the cylinder in the corner of the third picture. It's a metal canister, like an oxygen tank, connected at the top to the kind of plastic mask designed to cover your mouth and nose. They drugged you. That's why you didn't wake up. They put you into a deeper sleep so they could do what they wanted with you. Your clit is getting sore at this point, but when you come to this realization you can't help but cum one more time.

In your dreams that night someone is holding you down, kissing you, shoving his tongue down your throat. You're afraid and excited and wet, and you want to scream for help but you can't remember how to speak. Someone is saying something, but the words don't mean anything to you, and the relentless sucking on your clit is making it hard to focus on anything else. You want to moan, to arch your back, to press your legs shut, but your body isn't your own. Maybe you cum. Maybe you don't. It's hard to tell.

You come to slowly, blearily. You become aware of your surroundings one thing at a time, and out of order; first you notice the wetness, then the soreness, then the sunlight behind your closed eyelids. You stretch and rub the sleep out of your eyes, but your hands come away with more than the usual eye grit on them. With a jolt you realize your face is painted with cum, and looking down you can tell that it isn't just your face. There's cum on your tits, on your stomach, even your thighs and feet, and a hand between your legs confirms its inside you too. Hands shaking, you scoop it off your thighs and stomach, trying to get as much as you can into your pussy, fingering it deeper and deeper. You must have really taken a pounding last night, because your pussy is sore and your groin feels bruised, but the feeling of that cum inside you is worth every ounce of pain. You put a few pillows under your ass, trying to keep your hips elevated, keep it from spilling out for as long as possible. You imagine it taking root in your womb, changing your body, making your breasts and belly swell with motherhood. You imagine men you've never seen coming into you home while you're asleep and hungrily drinking your milk, squeezing and sucking so you wake up with your nipples sore. You wish one of them was here to fuck the cum deeper inside you, but you make do with your fingers. This time when you cum it's different. It isn't like the first orgasm of the day. It feels like maybe the fifth time you've cum in the last few hours; barely pleasure at all, just spine-tingling, mind-numbing sensation. Is it possible to cum in your sleep? It feels like it shouldn't be allowed, but you're having trouble thinking straight...

You need to stop touching yourself. You're sore and trembly and weirdly exhausted for someone who just woke up, but you can't stop thinking about those strangers in your bedroom, the cocks that must have been in your cunt and your asshole and your mouth. Your clit throbs, begging your fingers for just one more release. You make a compromise with yourself. You put on some panties to keep too much cum from leaking out, and you go to the kitchen to look at the pictures. But there are no polaroids on the kitchen table. Just a cheap plastic USB drive with your name in permanent marker on the side.

It shouldn't be a surprise that they know your name. They've been in your house, they can obviously find your name on your mail or your computer or your driver's license. But seeing it there in unfamiliar handwriting, one more tiny violation of privacy, makes your clit throb again, as if to remind you of its presence.

The voice of your elementary school librarian echoes in your head as you retrieve your laptop and return to bed. It is profoundly stupid, she reminds you, to plug an unfamiliar drive into your computer. There's no telling what kind of malware it could contain, and that kind of access could allow hackers to take complete control of your computer. But you've already done the most profoundly stupid thing. You've done it repeatedly, in fact, and you're in deep enough now that there may not be any going back. The drive contains a single folder, also with your name on it. The folder is full of pictures and videos, hundreds of them, from different cameras and different perspectives, every angle you could possibly want from the events of last night. Men in rubber masks, too many to count, taking turns raping your lifeless body. Stuffing their cocks down your throat and laughing as you choke reflexively. Squeezing your tits, pinching and biting your nipples. Playing with your pussy, intermittently fucking it and trying to shove ever-larger objects inside it. There's a closeup video of your face as one of the men ejaculates onto it. Another of your pussy as a cock pulls out, allowing a fat glob of cum to collect just at the entrance of your unresponsive hole. The last file in the folder is a .txt file, containing a single line of text: a string of numbers and letters that you recognize.

Right there on the first page of your favorite site is a picture of you, asleep and drenched in cum. Below it is your home address, and a short note:

Found this tasty slut by accident at the above address, just noticed the rapeme in her window and figured I'd come back that night. Good pussy, and she must like what we did to her because she hasn't taken it down yet. Stop by if you're in town; we like a limp body, but I bet she'd put up a nice fight if you'd rather forgo sedatives. Just make sure to gag her lol. don't want the neighbors complaining and ruining our fun. and remember to leave her a souvenir! She especially likes polaroids ; )

By the time you've finished reading you're in a daze. Your eyes can't seem to focus on anything. Your mind can't form a coherent thought. Your clit is no longer asking for your attention; it now demands it. As you begin to pull the panties back down, you notice something: the light next to your laptop camera is on.

You place the laptop on the bed between your legs, and begin stuffing the panties into your cunt.

[noxtivagus]

hdalkfjsldf i miss my friends :c

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic idea: Rude Kryptonian

Danny Fenton is prepared for a lot of things when Vlad calls his parents and asks to take his godson for a summer. Things would have gone differently if Danny's hero business hadn't made him a "troubled" kid. He was failing a lot of his classes, sleeping or ditching most classes and not to mention all the random injuries.

They were worried he was becoming some kind of gang member. (It hurt a little they assumed the worst of him and not worried that something bad was happening).

His dad was convinced that Vlad could somehow set him on the correct path.

Now Vlad had moved on from trying to be his stepdad and forced Danny to be his son, but that didn't mean Danny liked him. Or that he could forget what he put him through.

So he was less than happy to pack his bags and be driven to the airport to board Vlad's private jet. His parents lectured him the whole time, warning him to not be a bother to his uncle Vlad, and to behave. Jazz just looked anxious, practically begging her parents to change their mind.

They did not listen, and Danny was thrown onto the jet after getting past security. He was not surprised the plane went off course due to "mysterious" wealther a hour into the trip.

It was like they purposely flew into a thunderstorm, complete with harsh winds and rain. His plane crashed landed in the middle of nowhere thirty minutes later.

He was less surprised he was the only human on board - Vlad had tricked him once before with a ghost pilot. Why not again?- But at least no one, but Danny was hurt.

Jeez, couldn't Vlad think of anything more original? Then again, the definition of insanity is doing something over and over again, expecting different results.

Danny sat in his chair, having escaped the crash with only a few scrapes thanks to his powers, fuming at his parents and Vlad. He was so distracted he did not notice the hurried rescue team that surrounded the broken metal.

He did however notice the man who ripped off the top part of the jet, floating in the air in the most ridiculous outfit he's ever seen.

"Are you alright, son?"

"Are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Look at you. Look at what you're wearing." Danny gestures to the stranger. He ignores how the stranger's blue eyes start to glow. "You can't honestly tell me you're alright in the head looking like that. "

The man frowns "You're not human"

"How dare you! I have rights!"

The stranger fumbles, looking suprised "no. No, I meant you're like me- a alien"

"I'm not illegal! I have papers!"

"Not that kind of alien-! I'm Kryptonian!" The man floats down to Stanford beside Danny's seat. He reaches out to carefully ripe away the metal trapping him. "I think you may be as well, based on your biology"

Danny squints "How do you know my biology?"

"I used my x-ray vision to-!" Danny gasps, reaching out to slap the man across the face before covering his body with his hands. The man seems more startled by the fact that he was able to push his face to the side and then the actual slap.

"Stanger danger! Creep! Fruit loop!" Danny cries, turning intangible and flying out of the wreckage. "Stay away from me!"

He flies at his top speed, ignoring the call from the man. He can feel him following, and yes, he may be faster than Danny, but he's also solid and visible. Danny uses his powers to his advantage, losing him after a twenty minute chase.

It's only after three days of trying to get home that Danny realizes he's futher away from home than he originally planned. As in an entirely different world? It feels like it since Amity Park doesn't exist, much less, his friends and family.

Thankfully, he finds a nice little city that reminds him of the ghost zone for him to rest in. His new neighbor is filled with colorful characters, and there always seems to ve something happening keeping him on his toes.

Maybe this summer won't be so bad after all.

Meanwhile, Clark is panicking that a new Kryptonian had fallen from the sky, crashing landing near Ma and Pa's place only to have the boy disrespect him and escape. Now it's a race against time to find him before it's too late.

Also he was a little mean.

But where would he go?

Gotham. Danny is in Gotham, and he's yelling at people who keep trying to spray chemicals at him. He's having the time of his life.