#this is what happens when you fight the sleepy pills

[ruuinxs]

god nendo is so much taller than saiki. it would be a shame if saiki had to not-so-secretly use levitation to kiss him. it would be a shame if he let nendo get things off the shelf even though he is entirely capable of doing so on his own. it would be a shame if he felt small and comfortable in nendo’s hold. hmmm

[lav-bee]

Dr. Stone x Reader

Reader with Sleeping Troubles/ Nightmares

Character/s: Senku

💛❤️- Read as platonic or romantic (mostly platonic)

(A/N: I feel like I could have added more to this but my brain isn’t braining)

Senku

- Another sleepless night.

- They’ve been happening more recently.

- Sometimes you make yourself stay up in hopes you’ll have a full nights rest the next day. And sometimes you simply can’t stay sleeping, nightmares and thoughts plagued your mind.

- You didn’t think there was any reason to tell anyone since everyone had their own role to play; more important things to do.

- So the nightmares were pushed to the side while you continued to do your work.

- Of course, your lack of sleep showed in the quality of work you were producing.

- There have been times you were in the middle of making something and you slowly drifted off.

- Usually the people would just laugh it off and joke about it, but Senku… he could tell something was up.

- So he pulled you aside one night and asked what was going on. Partly because you can’t be half asleep while making fragile science stuff, and partly because he’s concerned for his friend.

- You come clean. About the horrid thoughts, and nightmares that would keep you paralyzed under your blanket for nights on end.

- The first thing he thought of was to pump you full of melatonin. Sleepy pill to make you tired enough that you can’t fight against it. But obviously that won’t completely solve your nightmare problems.

- You, Senku, and a small group spent a day to gather materials and the rest was up to Senku to create the melatonin.

- During the nights he worked, he let you rest in his lab and watch.

- There were a couple times you drifted off but not too long after you jumped awake.

- Senku tried his best to calm you down with soft words. He’s not very touchy but if you wanted a hug he’ll let you hug him.

- Might be stiff the first time but after seeing how badly these dreams affect you, he throws his own discomfort out the window; you’re more important.

- The melatonin works sometimes, you can actually get a full nights rest on occasion.

- But on nights when it’s bad Senku lets you sleep next to him in his hut.

- He’ll get grumpy sometimes if you keep waking him up. He knows it’s not your fault though so he’s patient ^_^

- There have been times when he’s had to wake you up himself because he sees you struggling in your sleep.

- During those times he’ll simply shake you awake and try to ground you. Hold your hand, keep you focused on him, and say things like: “It’s okay, you’re still here with me” or “It was just a dream, I’ve got you.”

- Senku will pull you into him as your hands grip onto his clothes for support. He might even run his fingers through your hair if he finds it calms you down.

- Over all, he’s very patient and tries to find a solution to your nightmares; even if it means giving you a hug or two :>

[juiles]

Hiding it: the aftermath.

Requested: yes

Summary: the aftermath of you not being medicated. the side effects hitting hard on all three of you.

Tags: fluff

Triggers: none!

Masterlist here.

Taglist here.

Requests here.

Part 1

When you woke up the next morning, it was to a searing pain in your shoulder and your knuckles. It took a few moments for you to realize where you were and a small moment of panic set in as you felt two pairs of arms wrapped around you gently. You tried to brush them off before gasping out in the shoot of severe pain radiating from your shoulder. A gasp that caused Natasha to shoot up from her sleep.

“Detka?” She asked her hands floating above your body as if not wanting to hurt you more but also wanting to help you in anyway she could. “What are you doing? You’re on bedrest from your shoulder injury.”

“I-I-I don’t know…” You muttered looking at the redhead confused. “You… you don’t like me… why am I in your bed?” Your question must have hurt Natasha because the flash of pure anguish in her eyes was noticed.

“Detka… we talked last night… you-you… what is happening?” Natasha asked, a look of pure confusion on her face. “Is this a side effect of your meds?”

Your eyes widened as flashes of last night came to you. “Oh fuck…” You muttered chewing on your lip. “You guys know…”

“We do but like we said last night darling, this doesn’t change how we feel about you. But we still have so much to make up to you for the last few days. We acted disgustingly.” You heard with the lilt of a soft sokovian accent, making you turn your head to face a sleepy looking Wanda. “Darling lay back down and I will go make your breakfast to take your meds with. Alright?”

You took a deep breath and looked down at your hands, more flashes of the previous night coming to you. “I didn’t hurt either of you did I?” The immediate response was a round of no’s. “Okay… I… I don’t know how to feel about you two right now… you really hurt me…”

“I know darling but you need to be taken care of and right now the safest place for you is with us so we know you are taking your meds and not stressing your shoulder. As soon as your healed you can go back to your room and never see us again if you want.” Natasha said with a tone of finality that made you nod and settle back down against Wanda. You were too tired to fight them at this moment anyways.

You felt her shift you gently over to be on Natasha as your eyes fluttered slowly. You felt yourself drift off again and before you knew it, Wanda was shaking you awake gently, a tray of food sitting on the bedside table. In her hands were a cup of 4 different pills and a bottle of water. You grimaced and buried yourself further into Natasha who chuckled soflty. “No detka… time to take your meds.”

“I’m to nauseous… I’ll just throw it up…” You muttered, hoping they took that at face value and allowed you to go back to sleep however it seemed to be your unlucky day.

“We did a little research last night darling. You’re nauseous because of withdrawal. You need to take your meds because itll help with it, I promise darling.” Wanda said, sitting on the bed beside you gently. You groaned and sniffled looking up at her with your classic puppy dog eyes that she usually gave into. “Nope. As much as I miss those adorable eyes of yours, you still have to take all these pills.

You groaned and shifted to be sitting more upright and sent a pouty glare at Wanda who smiled softly. Your eyes flittered down towards the small cup of pills as you sifted through them, unsure what the last one was. “Two painkillers, adhd meds and…?” You questioned looking up at the brunette sitting in front of you.

“Cho put you on some antibiotics as well for the infection in one of your cuts on your leg.” You nodded, holding your hand out for her to spill the pills into your open hand. After she did so, you tossed the pills into your open mouth then took the uncapped bottle and took a swig to swallow the pills making a face at the sour taste. You pushed the bottle back into Wandas hand with a small grunt. “Good job baby.”

You rolled your eyes and slouched back down, your body telling you, you had done enough for now. “We should try and shower later honey.” You scoffed with yet another roll of your eyes. You felt a surge of annoyance and anger roll through your body.

“You aren’t my parents. You are barely my girlfriends right now because I don’t know if you know this or not but you treated me like abslute crap the last week. You ignored me and then tried to fucking lecture me.” You said, tears of frustration threatening to roll out of your eyes. “I didn’t do anything wrong. We get put into deadly situations everyday and you two snapped at me over something that could have happened to anyone on the team. I’m sorry I’m not perfect enough-“ Your body finally couldn’t hold the sobs in anymore. “You really- fucking hurt me.” You said between sobs.

The two merely pulled you into their arms again and allowed you to sob to let out the emotions. “I hate this… I hate not having control of my fucking emotions…” You mumbled. “This is the worst…”

Wanda hummed, running her fingers through your hair which helped calm you down but also caused you to really settle into the fatigue you suddenly felt again. “Not yet darling… you need to eat something first or you will throw up.” Wanda said, holding out a piece of plain buttered toast. “Eat this then you can go to sleep alright?” You whined looking up at Natasha with your puppy dog eyes again.

“Oh wanda… maybe this one time she can skip it…” The redhead cooed, brushing hair out of your eyes. Wanda scoffed and shook her head.

“No absolutely not. Toast then you can sleep.” The brunette said causing you to pout again, your eyes welling up again. You shook your head looking back at the brunette sniffling. “Im sorry baby but it will help and you know it. Eat the toast then sleep.”

You opened your mouth to show you wanted to be fed. The witch helped you eat the toast before you curled back up into the assassin below you.

It was going to be a hard few days as your body readjusted to the meds but no matter how mean or grumpy you got, Natasha and Wanda took the abuse happily as it meant you were still alive and in their arms.

Taglist:

@asiangmrchk13 @boredandneedfanfics @mythixmagic @natashamaximoff-69 @grim-trans-witch

[chetchad]

Irresponsibly

(S.T.A.R.S.!Chris Redfield x S.T.A.R.S.!reader)

Summary: After an irresponsible night, Chris and the reader are loosely confused about their friendship.

Warning(s): Referenced sexual content, barely edited.

Words (1529)

Sunlight hazed through the blinds, the beams hitting your face and making you let out a scoff of annoyance. Wait. Blinds? You don't remember having blinds. You have curtains— your thoughts were cut off when you felt movement beside you; you heard shuffling against the sheets and a quiet groan.

You quickly sat up and looked around the room, the room was messy and cluttered, with clothes strewn about and a few posters of half-naked women on the walls, and one thing caught your attention.

A jacket.

Not just any jacket.

No.

A leather one. A brown leather one.

With very familiar detailing on the back, one that made your heart sink, but also skip a beat at the same time.

You looked to your right and stared at the familiar tufts of brown hair that stuck out from under the blanket. You gently grabbed his shoulder and shook him awake.

"Chris? Wake up, it's time for work... I think." You mumbled softly, and resisted the urge to touch his soft, messy hair.

He let out a sleepy hum and turned his body to face you. Your eyes met blue ones, ones that made you feel warm on the inside. His eyes widened, and his cheeks turned a soft, rosy red.

"What are you doing here?" He asked quickly and sat up, the blanket uncovering his bare chest.

You looked down at yourself to make sure you weren't nude, and fortunately, you were in one of Chris's shirts. One of his S.T.A.R.S. shirts, with the logo on the sleeve and where a breast pocket would go, which was a soft white cotton. Chris squinted his eyes and looked around the room with confusion.

"Did we...?" He trailed off and felt his face heat up more at the thought of you and him together.

"I don't think so. God, I have a hangover." You muttered and rubbed your head, the throbbing headache clawing at you.

"Me too," Chris replied, and he stood up, only clad in a pair of boxers. "I'll go get us some medicine." He murmured and left the bedroom, leaving you with your thoughts.

After a few minutes and a few curses, Chris came back with some Tylenol and a bottle of water. He sat on his bed and handed you two of the white pills and the water. Chris opened the bottle of water for you and watched as you swallowed the pills with a mouthful of water. You handed him the bottle so he could take his, and you laid back on the bed. Chris took his and set the bottle of water on the bedside table.

Chris looked at the alarm clock and read the red numbers.

7:13....

"Oh shit. We've got to get ready for work." He huffed and stood up, walking to the mahogany dresser. He opened the middle drawer and pulled out a pair of tan pants. He clumsily pulled them on, buttoned them, and zipped them up. He looked over at you and gestured to the shirt you were wearing.

"What happened to your clothes?" He asked and tilted his head to the side, an adorable, confused expression on his face.

"I dunno. I woke up in this," You answered with a shrug, and you tried to bite back the smile fighting its way onto your lips.

"Do you need clothes to wear?" Chris inquired, and searched around in the drawer. He soon pulled out a pair of pants and tossed them to you. "They're the smallest pair I have. If you need a belt, you can use one."

You grabbed the pants and pulled them on over your underwear. You zipped and buttoned them. To your surprise, they fit. Chris glanced at you from the corner of his eyes, and felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of you in his clothes.

You looked over at the bedside table and noticed your keys, wallet, and S.T.A.R.S. badge. You grabbed them and put your keys and wallet into the deep pockets of the pants while hooking the badge on the waistband of the pants.

Chris just watched and admired you with a big, dumb grin on his face. You walked around the room and looked for your boots. You caught a glimpse of one of them from under his bed and looked.

You grabbed your boot and noticed quite the collection of porn magazines. You snorted and snickered, pulling away from under the bed, flashing Chris a cheeky grin.

"Someone's been busy." You teased and put your boot on, lacing it tightly after.

Chris blushed in embarrassment and nervously toyed with his badge. "I don't look at them often...." He mumbled shyly and mentally scolded himself for his shy behavior.

"It's fine. I'm just teasing." You reassured him and noticed your other boot next to the door. Chris let out a quiet sigh of relief and watched you put on your other boot.

You opened the door and walked into the small, also cluttered, living room. You sat on the couch and tried to ignore the still-pounding headache.

Chris walked out a few moments later and gestured to the front door. You got up and followed him out of the apartment. He slotted his key in the door and locked it. You guys walked to the elevator and went to the bottom floor.

The two of you walked towards the parking lot, and finally, after about five minutes of searching, you came across Chris's beat-up 1990 Honda Accord.

He unlocked the doors and climbed into the driver's seat. You got into the passenger seat. The car smelled like cigarettes and coconut air freshener, while CD cases were all over the floorboards and backseat.

Chris shoved the key in the ignition and started the car. He pulled out of the parking lot and began his route to the RPD. The silence was nice; it was just the sound of passing cars, which would just hum by.

Chris lit a cigarette out of habit, not realizing what he was doing until you rolled your window down passive aggressively.

"So, do you have any idea about what happened?" Chris asked, not taking his eyes off the road.

You tried to think about what might have happened the night before. You soon got a small snippet of the memory, a club.

"We went to the club last night with the team." You mumbled and groaned. "We went to a club last night and got hammered."

Chris cringed and pulled into the RPD parking garage. Chris parked and pulled the key out of the ignition, quietly sighing. He looked over at you with a small smile and opened his door. He took off his seatbelt and got out of the car, you did the same and closed the passenger-side door. The two of you walked into the RPD and began walking to the S.T.A.R.S. office.

Chris rubbed his temples and recoiled at the lights in the building. You and Chris eventually got to the office, and prepared yourselves for the scolding of a lifetime. You turned the doorknob slowly and pushed the door open.

"Where the hell were you guys?" Wesker sneered and rested his hands on his hips, glaring at you guys through his sunglasses.

"Umm...well.. we slept in...? Chris stuttered out and felt fear creep up on him.

"I don't want relations between my subordinates; do I make myself clear? Wesker replied, authority laced in his tone.

"Yes sir." You and Chris answered in unison, trying to hide the fear in your bodies.

Wesker gave you guys one last, icy stare and went into his office, slamming the door behind him. You and Chris let out sighs of relief and quiet giggles.

"I heard that if his shadow falls on you, your heart freezes and falls out of your butt." You whispered to Chris, which made him wheeze with laughter.

"That's amazing." He choked out between laughs, doubling over.

You laughed with him and walked over to your desk, you sat down and used your arms as pillows, trying to get rid of this headache. Chris patted your back and sat at his desk.

Everyone else in the office watched with annoyance, interest, amusement, or confusion.

"What happened last night after you guys went home?" Jill asked, and she swiveled her office chair to face Chris.

"We honestly don't remember," Chris answered honestly, shrugging his shoulders.

"Oh, no sex?" Jill added, sounding seemingly disappointed.

"No. No sex" You mumbled and felt your headache slowly dissipate.

"Damn, Brad, I owe you ten dollars," Jill called out, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Yes!"

"Shut up..." She mumbled and grabbed a roll of quarters from the drawer in her desk and handed it to Brad, who looked at her with confusion.

"What is this? He asked, sounding so sad, like someone had told him his puppy had died.

"Ten dollars in quarters," she answered with a smug grin.

"You just gave him forty quarters?" You asked in confusion, and lifted your head up to stare at them.

"Yeah, we made a bet. He bet that you guys wouldn't have sex, and I said that you two would have sex," Jill replied nonchalantly, which made you and Chris do a double-take.

"What." You hissed and narrowed your eyes at Brad and Jill, while Chris started laughing.

"Who knows, maybe I'll hit that tonight," Chris teased and pointed towards you, which made your cheeks heat up.

"I'm giving you five seconds to run, Redfield."

[gaybananabread]

@pocky-dragon Hello there! First of all I really enjoy your fics and headcannons and I was wondering if you have any headcannons/thoughts on Casey from rottmnt?

(I'm dumb and deleted the ask again-)

🏒Casey Jr Tkl Headcanons💚

~AN: Eergejehhesh my BOOOOOY! Pocky you have no idea how long I've been wanting to do something for this mans- Now that events are done, hopefully I can get back up and running! Thank you for requesting!~

Gen:

Things weren't totally serious, totally crazy all the time in his timeline

Before Raph and Donnie…moved on, everyone was fairly optimistic. I mean, sure, it was the apocalypse, but they had hope.

When Casey was little, all four brothers would take turns playing with him. While each one had very different interactions, they all universally loved doing one thing: tickling him.

After all the sadness, Big Leo still tried to keep things uplifting for the boy.

He rarely full-on tickled him, but a few light pokes or squeezes here and there were the perfect thing to put a smile on the teen’s face.

Big Mikey would abuse his powers and sneak up behind Casey, squeezing his sides or teasing his neck.

Occasionally, when the boy was really down in the dumps, holding his arms while Big Leo cheered him up with some tickles.

Lee:

Let's all be honest here: he's a lee. No matter how hard he tries, he always ends up getting his ass handed to him.

Not that he doesn't adore it, of course.

He sees it as a fun way to bond with his new family, even if they do tease the shell out of him.

Worst spots are his hips, belly button and armpits. He likes all of them, though his melt spot is his palms; the best snorty-giggles stem from there.

Bushiest boi, will turn red as fresh cherries if you tease him right~

While he loves tickles from the whole Hamato fam, his favorite lers would have to be Raph and Leo.

He never really got to know Big Raph, but young him is a giant, compassionate teddy bear. A teddy bear that also happens to have a night job as a professional tickle monster!

As for Leo, he'd always felt close to the blue-themed turtle. Besides the obvious connections to his Leo, the guy’s just fun to be around.

The jokes get him giggling, and he feels safe around Leo.

Reigning loser of every tickle fight ever.

He's won maybe twice. Once against a very sleepy Leo, and again with a partner.

Self-conscious about his laugh, but the fam works daily to try and help him jump that hurdle! -♡

Little pill bug: his first response to anything tickly, from pokes to full-on tickled, is curling up into a tiny ball.

Adorable to watch, and even cuter to hear his little squeal when you get to his spots anyway!

Ler:

Rarely happens, but he's still not bad!

Really giggly ler, likes to laugh with his lee.

Definitely gets flustered when someone asks to be tickled by him.

Again, rare, but it does occasionally happen.

He's afraid of hurting them, so only the gentlest of tickles and little scritches unless/until they ask for more.

When he does tickle someone, it's usually Leo, Mikey or April.

Leo is a sorta-undercover angst lord, and Casey likes to hear him laugh when he's bummed or overthinking things.

Mikey is just playful. He'll annoy Casey, mostly on purpose, and get what's coming to him. Other times, he'll be attempting to help the artsy turtle with his makeup and tickle him with the brushes. Intentional or not, I'll let you decide…

With April, it's almost always circumstantial. Dragged into a random tickle fight, Raph asking for backup, Donnie needing someone to do his dirty work.

April tickles him more than he ever gets her. Very few times does it happen, but he's capable of giving revenge tickles.

Doesn't usually tease, but he will compliment his lee's laugh and/or reactions.

“I love your laugh, it's so happy!” “Hey, don't be ashamed of the blush. Red's a good color on you!” “Was that a snort? No, don't hide it, that's adorable!”

It took a while to get to that point, but with self confidence and a whole family of support, he can finally start putting himself out there. Even if it is with something as goofy as tickling.

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

Sleep Scare Speed Run- Teen Titans (2003) One-Shot

When an accident involving sleeping pills puts Y/N’s life in danger, someone’s going to have to act fast to save her.

To say that Y/N had been overworking herself had been an understatement of the year. Between fighting regular criminals and helping track down Slade, she barely made any time for herself. It was only when Starfire had asked how much sleep she had been getting that the severity of the situation really came to light.

“Uh,” Y/N paused, blinking slowly.

“You have been sleeping at least eight hours, right?” Starfire asked.

“Yes,” Y/N said, adding a quick, mumbled, “this week.”

“What?” Raven demanded, looking up from her book.

Raven fixed her with that cold, piercing stare that was only rivaled by someone like Killer Frost. It made Y/N shrink into herself.

“You’ve only slept eight hours, total? As in, the entire week only added up to eight hours?”

“You should be impressed I was able to keep track of it,” Y/N said, “usually I don’t know how much sleep I’m getting at all.”

“Dude, that’s not good,” Beast Boy added.

“This coming from the one who was up until 3am playing video games,” Y/N said.

“That’s different!” Beast Boy protested.

“You were up until 3am playing video games?” Raven asked, rounding on him.

Y/N took Beast Boy’s plight as an opportunity to leave the rec room. It wasn’t like she was staying up on purpose. The whole Slade thing was stressing her out- it was hard to sleep! She had sleeping pills in her room, maybe taking one wouldn’t be a bad idea.

She passed Robin and Kid Flash on the way out. Oh right, they were having him over today. She waved tiredly at them. She was almost to her room when- bump!

“You good, Y/N?” Cyborg asked.

“Alll good,” Y/N said.

She promptly bumped into him again before realizing she had to go around him. Cyborg watched her leave with a puzzled, concerned expression.

…

Two sleeping pills later, and Y/N still wasn’t asleep. She trudged back into the rec room, where her team was waiting for her.

Starfire smiled cheerfully.

“Friend Y/N!” she said, flying over to her, “we are just about to have some delightful milkshakes! Won’t you join us please?”

Y/N’s tired eyes brightened for just a moment. Milkshakes? Yes please!

Raven levitated a tall milkshake over to her. It had whipped cream and a cherry on top! Y/N took it eagerly, draining it in minutes.

“How do you feel?” Starfire asked with a smile.

“Tired,” Y/N admitted.

Starfire and Beast Boy nodded to each other with knowing winks.

“What?” Y/N asked.

“Nothing, Y/N,” Robin said, “do you want help getting to bed?”

How did he know she was sleepy?

“Yeah, that’s probably best,” Y/N admitted, “I already took two sleeping pills so…”

The entire team froze.

“Did you say… sleeping pills?” Raven asked.

“Mhm,” Y/N murmured drowsily.

The urge to sleep was growing quite strong. Y/M swayed on the spot. She barely registered Robin shouting something and a flash of lightning before everything went dark, and sleep sucked her down.

…

The sound of steady beeping roused Y/N. It was a fight to open her eyes. Worried voices babbled over her, sounding as though they were underwater.

“…and if you weren’t there, Wally, I don’t know what would’ve…”

“She’s waking up!”

Y/N’s vision cleared and saw Starfire inches from her face. She would’ve flinched if she weren’t so groggy.

“Friend Y/N! You are awake!”

“Yeah…”

“We were incredibly worried! Kid Flash had to rush you to the med bay. We did not know if you would… if anything had happened…”

Starfire trailed off.

“What did happen?” Y/N asked, trying to sit up.

Robin came over and pushed her back down.

“Easy, you’re recovering from an overdose of sleeping pills,” he said.

“Wha?”

“It’s our fault,” Beast Boy admitted, “we kinda spiked your milkshake.”

“You were not sleeping!” Starfire added, “we did not know what else to do!”

“But then when you said you had already taken two sleeping pills, we realized that there was too much in your system,” Raven finished.

“We are very sorry, Y/N,” Starfire said quietly.

“How… how long have I been out?”

“A couple days,” Cyborg said.

Y/N blinked in surprise.

“You should’ve woken up in a matter of hours,” Robin added, “seems like you really needed the sleep.”

Y/N looked away sheepishly.

“Hey uh, where is Kid Flash anyway?” she asked, “I wanna thank him.”

As if on cue, Kid Flash came in quicker than sound. He had a tall stack of pizzas in his hand.

“Okay, I’ve got selections from Jump City, Central City, Gotham City, and- oh, hey! You’re up! Just in time!"

Kid Flash put one of the pizza boxes in Y/N’s lap.

“It isn’t spiked or anything,” he added.

Y/N laughed, opening the box. Inside was her favorite type of pizza, it made her mouth water.

“Thanks man!” Y/N said with a grin.

“Um, Y/N?” Starfire asked.

Y/N already had a mouthful of pizza. She looked up at her with a sort of “what’s up?” expression.

“Are we still… friends?”

Y/N swallowed.

“That depends on one thing,” Y/N said.

The titans leaned in closer with bated breath.

“Can someone make me another milkshake? I didn’t really savor the last one.”

The team laughed with Y/N. Beast Boy brought her another milkshake, and she spent the entire day getting much-needed rest with her friends.

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Tags:

@mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog

@electrons2006

[ilovesjamesbb]

Please Don't Leave Me (Pt. 7)

Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Depression, suicide, depressing shit

“No. No no no no no no.” He grabbed my body pulling me out of the tub. He was struggling. What is happening? Our song, James. Our song is on. I feel sleepy. I feel good. All of a sudden there is a clatter and I feel something in my mouth. It's large and it makes its way down my throat. It's a terrible feeling. I feel myself starting to wake up. 

Bucky runs over to the tub pulling y/n out of the red water. The cuts aren't that deep but enough to bleed bad. He looks down and sees the pill bottle. He picks it up and it's empty. Fuck. 

What had she done? I left her alone. This is my fault. She needed me and I left her. I didn’t know what else to do but get those pills out. 

“You're not gonna like this, doll. I promise you will be okay. I’ll fix this.” I shove my fingers down her throat hoping to trigger her gag reflex. She’s barely conscious she's not really fighting back so I push further. 

“Come on. Come on!” Fuck this isn’t working. Right when I lost hope she started to gag and throw up. It's not enough. I keep my fingers down her throat. 

“There you go, doll. I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.” She vomits until there is nothing left. The bath water is starting to overflow and red water finds its way onto the floor. I grab her head and rock her back and forth. Crying. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” I harshly wiped her hair out of her face. 

“Our song is on, James.” She smiles but never opens her eyes. Thank god.

“Yes doll our song is on.” I say sweetly but I can hear the sadness in my voice as it cracks. 

“I wish this was real, James. I wish this is how it could've been.” She hums sadly. She thinks this isn’t real?

“This IS real doll. I’m right here.” I cry. The floor covered in vomit and bloody water is something I'll never forget. I rip the towel off the wall and cover her in it. I need to call someone but I don’t want to leave her. 

“I love you. I never wanted you to hate me for trying to kill myself. I thought I was doing the right thing. All I could see in that moment was your reaction to watching the tape the scientists would send you and I didn’t want you to end up how I am now.” She whispers. Still clearly not with it. 

“I wish you were real right now. I wish we got to have the future I dreamt of.”

“Tell me about it, doll.” I said trying to keep it together.

“We would live in a white house with a red door. There would be a white fence and flowers on the front lawn. A huge willow tree in the back where maybe we could put a swing. The paperboy would drop off the paper every morning and I would make you coffee and bring it to you in bed. We would read the paper together. Our favorite song is playing on one of the many record players we have in the house. You would wake me up with a kiss every day. We would talk about what we wanted to name our future baby. We would get to have kids and they would grow up to love the music we like almost as much as they would love you…” She trailed off. God I wanted that too. 

“What else? Tell me more.” I urged her on. I wanted to make her regain full consciousness. 

“I’m tired James. I can see it, can't you? I see the dog running in the backyard. You always throw his ball too far…he can’t find it. I can’t find you… James, where are you…” I can feel her start to slip again. She was panicking. 

“Y/n. Y/n!” I yell, shaking her.

“JARVIS. Call Steve, call Tony, call someone!” I screamed. The fear in my voice evident. 

“They are coming, Sergeant Barnes. I alerted Dr. Cho as well.” I held her in my arms whispering sweet nothings into her hair. I couldn't lose her for a third time. 

[i-cant-sing]

I feel like platonic yandere theodere would be even more of an ass when reader gets sick

HE IS! And so condescending too! Always signing to you "If you'd just listened to me and stayed in doors, this wouldn't have happened." Or narrowing his eyes at you when you refuse to take the sour, sleepy medicine, telepathically communicating to knock it off and take the pill.

Rolls his eyes when you leave your bed, standing in front of you with his arms crossed against his chest, nodding his head at you to go back to bed or fight him. And by "fight" he means try to get past him and he'll still pick you up and throw you back in bed, perhaps with a couple more heavy blankets.

Super super concerned when you're puking your guts out over the toilet seat, he's holding your hair back (and your head), afraid that you'll doze off and dunk your head into the toilet bowl. May gave you a light shake by the hair to get your eyes to focus on him so that he could both examine your face for ill health signs and also make you see what he's signing to you.

He might even get his enemy (low key bestie) Dr Eros to check you and prescribe you some medicine. But he's sure to swat Eros's hands away for any unnecessary touches, narrowing his eyes at you when you complain to Eros about Theodore being a persisting pain.

Helps you to the bath, sitting outside just in case you need help or you slip and bleed to death. Or if you need a towel. After you come out, he sits you between his legs to comb your hair, does your skincare routine for you (even if u didn't have one, you do now) and tucks you in the bed that has now fresh clean sheets in it.

If you sneeze on him, get snot on him, or even a little bit of vomit, he gives you a death stare and if he finds out u did it on purpose, he scoops your snot/puke up and flings it back on you.

Teases you to no end as he feeds you soup and takes care of you, but the moment he sees those tears of frustration, he drops the ass hat and tries to comfort you by spending money on whatever you have in your online shopping basket (yes, he totally has access to your Internet history, even if u use incognito mode)

When you finally do sleep, he'd gently bring your head into his lap and pet your hair, kissing your cheek (and grimacing at how warm you are) before boring holes into you because obviously, he has to make sure you don't stop breathing.

I also think that Theodore's reaction would vary greatly on what type of disease reader is suffering. If its fever or food poisoning, then he's a major ass and will piss you off to no end. But if its something more serious like idk, migraines or arthritis or epilepsy, then he's not a jerk. No, no. He'd be so concerned and understating of your pain and will do anything you want to relieve any discomfort.

[bts-0t-7]

Tonight | KSJ | Chapter 7

Pair: Seokjin x Hamster Hybrid Reader 

Summary: Dedicating his life to never having another person to count on, to be strong, Seokjin finds himself in the middle of an illegal fighting ring. The person he wanted to erase was just at his fingertips but he was slipping. No, he was leaving. He was accepting a change and he was afraid. 

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hybrid, non-idol au, detective, smut, abuse (sensitive topic)

Warnings: abuse, self-harm, self-degration, lots of lying and miscommunications, angst angst and angst

WC: 2.2K

The next few days passed by like clockwork - sleep, work, eat, sleep, work, eat. There wasn’t much going on but you could feel the tension in everybody at the headquarters after the breakout incident. You weren’t sure who was the prisoner but Mr Park was fuming. 

“What do you mean by he’s not responding? Ur telling me that they anticipated our moves and are now what - Already moving forward?”

You couldn’t hear much from where you were and your groggy mind was still processing that you are trying to be awake. But you could make out Mr Park’s fast and nervous movements and the frantic voices over the phone. 

“You’ve got to be kidding with me right?”

“Hyung, nobody’s kidding. They’re on the move and right now, all the plans are scratched. We are trying to locate them and predict their next move but it’s as if they’ve gone dark. Even with Esther in the dark web, there is no movement from them.” 

A baritone voice sounded, “They refuse to negotiate and in this state - if we move, we are dead. He wasn’t wrong when he said that they knew who we were. I do not doubt that they have already figured it out long ago and we were just playing with puppets these few weeks.”

You registered the dip at the side of the bed before Mr Park reached over to rub your ears. You let out a sleepy mumble, crawling over to hug his waist. “What happened?” You peeked open your eyes. 

“It’s alright, darling. But I probably won’t be coming home for dinner these few days. You won’t be cooking to work with me for now either. I’ll cook lunch and dinner - Do you think you can handle yourself alone at home?”

You nodded. You didn’t want to put more stress on Mr Park. With the incident a few days ago and the ongoing phone call, you knew that he was only going to get busier - and you didn’t want to be one of his worries. 

Mr Park left soon after his calls, but not before ensuring that you had everything. It was fine at first but it got too overbearing when he was double, triple, quadruple checking things every morning and night. While it was sweet at first, you were grown and have your own capability. His coworkers calling him that he was late was also a reason for you to drag him away from the cabinets and refrigerator. 

“Mr Park,” You stopped him. “You’ve double checked this every morning and I am capable of taking care of myself.” You pulled him away from the cabinets of food and medications to the living room where his bags and shoes were ready. “You’re going to be late. Again.”

Mr Park sucked in a deep breath. “Okay, okay. Just make sure you -”

“Eat your meals, 2 supplements every day, and one pill after every food.” You sighed. “Yes, I know.”

He bit his lip and started again before you held out your hand, stopping his words.

“Please, your coworkers downstairs have ben honking for fifteen minutes now. Any more and our neighbours are going to file a noise complaint.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll be going then.” You waved back at him. 

These few days you spent most of your time catching up on the dramas and social medias, understanding how things work in the house. But that one room that you had never entered out of respect was Mr Park’s office. In the earlier days, he had told you to keep out of the room. But recently, he mentioned that you could explore any part of the house - even the office. 

Bu tout of respect for his and his clients privacy, you never did. But it would be lying if you said that the suspense of walking past that door multiple times a day and eventually staring at it from the sofa wasn’t killing you. You wanted to know what was in there. Are there pictures? Is it messy? Are there any food or drinks in the room? What is the style and environment he works in?

It got so much that you were - once again - outside the door, staring at it. Deciding to bite the bullet and enter today, your hand shakily reached for the door handle. 

You thought that there was nothing much to worry - that it would be just like any office that you have seen over the years. Cabinets full of books and bottles of alcohol, trophies of all sorts lined up against the wall as a form of pride, cigars and weapons lying around ceaselessly. But no, it was cabinets full of books but no alcohol, the trophies were not heads of tusks but simple metals and pictures, and the room was clean. Not cigars, no weapons. 

But those pictures hanging on the walls, those pictures at the table and cabinets. You swiped two fingers over the frame. It may have been a long time since you saw him but his face and those eyes - you will never forget. 

“Mr Park, you had a hybrid?”

His eyes turned downcast. “Yes, once. But he passed away four years ago in an accident.”

You tilted your head. “May I ask what happened?”

He looked up at you with a sad smile. “Wrong time, wrong place.” 

The only person who you could count as family, is gone. You didn’t want to believe it. You had all the proof even without entering the room but you were in denial. You knew you were in denial. But knowing this - 

Is this how it feels like to have a broken heart?

Does it hurt so bad you feel as if your whole body was aching?

Looking around the room, you found pictures of Mr Park. Name tags, badges, medals. But they were all given to Kim Seokjin. 

“Hyung, they weren’t lying when they said that they knew who we are.”

It couldn’t be…Right?

Ploughing through the cabinets, you found stacks and stacks of paper. You bidding paper, your legal adoption papers, and bills after bills of your medical checkups, food, and essentially everything.

Why would Mr Park keep these?

You found recorders in a box, specifically labelled, from the front of the box to the back. You ignored them first, deciding to pick up the papers and read them through. They didn’t seem like much to you until you reached the end of the file, labelling sections of recordings. Picking up the box you left on the table, you compared the names and numbers before picking them out. 

Laying them in order wasn’t too hard but nothing could prepare you for what you heard. 

Recording 1: “Testing, testing. Min Yoongi.” 

“Sir, I would advice that you do not touch him.”

“Hyung, you clearly know this isn’t a good idea. What if they found out?”

“$1.45 Million Won.”

“I knew that you want her so I just thought to give you a push. Heh.”

Recording 2: “Testing, testing. Kim Namjoon.”

“Jungkook ah, can you not do that? It’s so gross, oh my gosh-”

“Yes sir!”

“Hyung, I will be heading up to the rooms to find more information. They seem to have weakened the surrounding security there.”

“Move, son of a bitch.”

“Hyung, they are moving at a slower pace an anticipated. It’s too easy that we should re-think our plans. We may be playing into a trap if we do not think rationally.”

Recording 3: “Testing, testing. Jeon Jungkook.”

“Yo, yo, yo. Hehehehe.”

“Proceed with it. Let’s move in. Be alert at all times, we may have the blueprints, studied the layouts, does not mean we can slack off. This is enemy territory, we do not show mercy.”

“Go around the corner, back each other up.”

“All clear, let’s go.”

“What did I miss?”

“Nothing much, disabled and hacked.”

“Are you seriously -”

Recording 4: “Testing, testing. Jung Hoseok.”

“Hyung, Namjoon is in.”

“Orders are meant to be followed or are you telling me that my orders mean nothing to you?”

“Bring me a doctor. Now!”

Recording 5: “Testing, testing. Kim Taehyung.”

“I know, I know. All I need to do is insert the kill chip and keep silent as the sturdy and emotionless bodyguard.”

“Holy shi -” 

“I cannot understand why hyung would bid for that girl.”

“I thought he would never have another hybrid after Jimin.”

“Stop it. Jimin was my everything.”

Who was this Kim Taehyung? Jiminie? His everything? Perhaps…were they mates?

Your hands shook as you played the last recording.

Recording 6: “Testing, testing. Kim Seokjin.”

No. 

No, no, no. 

You sank down on the floor as the recording continued on.

“Move in.”

“Taehyung-ah, be careful okay?”

“Shut it. How dare you disrespect me - youngest son of Park Si-Jung?”

“Tsk.”

“$1.57 Million Won.”

“She is mine now.”

“We still need her, she can be our ticket in.”

“Enough. I do not want to hear you telling me what I should’ve done.”

If clearly lying about his name and hiding your best friend from you wasn’t enough, this felt like your breaking point. 

But was it? 

Are you able to hang on longer?

Is this where you end? Were you finally break after all these years of fighting and training your mind and body?

You weren’t sure of how to feel. You collapsed onto the carpenter floors as the papers stared back at you. You did not want to believe it, you did not want to even think that its was a possibility. But all these pictures and all these time, it just solidifies what you have expected. You could no longer dismiss the fact of his scent around the house, on that cat, in that room. The study that Mr Park - no, Seokjin - forbade you to enter was full of his pictures. 

You childhood friend, Jimin.

Your only friend. One so close you regarded him as a brother - was gone. And he had been gone for more than four years. 

And those deceiving letters and recordings, your owner did not buy you out of pity. He bought you cause he needed you. You had been used, beaten, and betrayed your entire life. You had though that you’ll meet your end in the ring. You didn’t have life in you every time you fought. You knew that you were only kept like a well-oiled machine just waiting for your depreciation to increase before becoming of no more use. 

But when Seokjin had brought you home and took care of you, you thought that perhaps you could live like your peers, be more carefree and have fun. You thought that he cared for you. 

You thought. 

And you were clearly wrong. 

Looking at the floor filled with papers, you were filled with the emotion of the unknown. You were betrayed but you have never felt this betrayed. You gave your heart to him - gave your all to him - just for him to let it slide through like any random puddle of sand. Your heart hurt, your head hurt, and you didn’t know what to do. 

There were many times that you have lived that you didn’t know what to do. But this was much beyond your speciality. Many times, you just had to ensure that you played the part of a pretty girl, a strong soldier, a hardworking student. All you had to do was wait it out and it will play nicely. Life was certainly much easier back then - and much less painful compared to what you go through now. 

Constantly being beat up in the ring, spending days and weeks and months in the hospital doing rehabilitation; constantly being scolded and shoved outside to sleep like a dog, certainly did not feel as bad as it did now.

This sense of betrayal… it felt like your whole body was burning inside out. You felt as if you were placed on a stake and it was a bonfire surrounding you. It hurts but your hands were tied. You didn’t know what to do. You truly didn’t. 

You looked up at the mounted clock just above the door. 

It read, 04 00. 

Slowly standing up, you packed the papers back into the drawer, adjusted the picture frames, turned off the lights, and left. Looking back into the room one last time, ensuring that it looked the way it did when you entered, and walked back to the bedroom. Entering the room with heavy feet, you looked past the drawn curtains, and to the moon that shone its borrowed light into the room. You had always thought the moon was pretty, being able to play with the stars, to shine so brightly even when its so lonely. Nobody plays in the night and everybody worships the sun. 

But the moon does not complain. It shines bright every night, giving light to those who need it. 

And whenever you asked, it answered. 

And you knew what you should do. 

[that-one-odd-shipper]

🪼. New Fic . 🪼

(To the little Junichro and Tachihara anon, yours is getting started now :) I prioritized this one first.)

❤️‍🔥- A little Chuuya fic! This one actually made me very happy to write since I got inspo off my nieces actions for this one when she was over.

♦- This takes place right after my previous little Dazai fan fiction, let's say about a week later. I don't see many agere fics with Chuuya as the regressor, so I figured I'd feed the fandom with this one.

📣- I don't exactly have a picked out age for Chuuya in this, I wouldn't say younger than Dazai but definitely a not very talkative, sleepy yet excited kid. Also extremely clingy, skk is really alike when they are little in odd ways. This is the first time he's ever regressed, he doesn't even know he does.

❗- I'll attach the first few paragraphs for you to get a feel of the fic! Link to my ao3 and the fic itself will be at the end! Please enjoy, comment and like! Ps. This isn't the first sentences like I usually do. There's backstory at the start, so I figured I'd start further down.

Back to the current situation, Chuuya had a morbidly bad headache. He felt like tearing his skin off, that's how bad it was. Nothing worked, no pills, the rest of the sort.

Overwhelming, that's how it all felt. He had been granted permission to leave early that day because of it despite his paperwork. Another factor in his stress.

Although originally putting up a fight against it because the work would pile up, they insisted. So now he was here in his apartment.

God what he would give to just pass out in a warm bath, not have to worry about anything for hours and hours on end. But of course that couldn't happen..

When he turned the bend into the living room he found Dazai staring at a certain picture. Of course, of fucking course the bastard decided to be a nusince today.

When noticing Chuuya, he shot around taking the picture in his grasp. "Aw, the Hatrack's back! Do you really keep pictures like these up?"

Dazai held up the picture for him to see now, it was of Chuuya and the sheep. A picture he had taken ages ago that he refused to take down for reasons he doesn't wish to share.

The red-head stalked forward and tried to reach for the frame, cursing at Dazai. Now he held it far above Chuuya, taunting him. Can't he just get a break?

"Fucking bitch! Leave my shit alone, asshat!" Yea he cursed like eight times in that sentence, but he's stressed alright?

The brunette only laughed as a response, throwing it down for Chuuya to grab with his ability. And that he did, clutching it in his hands immediately.

"...Why are you here?" He sighed out, rubbing his temple. This was giving him a headache.

"Can't an owner check up on his dog?" Sang the man, plopping down on the couch.

"I'm not your dog-" Chuuya attempted to say, but his brain cut out in the middle aggravatingly. Static formed in his head making it increasingly difficult to focus.

If he slipped up that much Dazai didn't notice, starting to ramble about something stupid like slobber. Chuuya could care less at the moment.

He opted to move towards the kitchen, sitting down at the island and ignoring Dazai. Maybe be should cook? It would probably help the static and headache.

Dazai followed him over, continuing to speak. The words faded out without his control as he sat there. Was everything usual so loud? Because it was ear bleeding.

The red head doesn't trust himself to cook like this, he'll probably burn himself. Just another thing for Dazai to make fun of him for and my god why can't he just shut up?!

Chuuya couldn't do it. Too much, too loud. His limbs felt stuffy and his mind was covered in clouds so thick he couldn't think. Static noise in his head at all times, preventing him from even getting a thought in.

Chuuya's head pounded as if it was being hit by a baseball bat over and over and over. Everything was sticky, hot, and constricting.

___________________________________

Hope you liked the snippet :) the links to my ao3 and the story and bellow!

Story: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57034897

My ao3!: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_One_Odd_Shipper/pseuds/That_One_Odd_Shipper

[chickwiththepurpleguitar]

I’ve seen that your thinking about taking some request so… I’d love to read a Bobby/Alex with suicidal!Alex written by you, I’m really in love with your writing style. In any case, I hope you manage to reach your 100 fic goal! 🥰🥰🥰

Hello!! SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. I am now actually trying to reach my 150 fic goal.... but at least I was finally able to put your awesome prompt into words! Hope you enjoy :)

TW: depression, talk of suicide attempt/ideation (nothing graphic, no one dies or is even hurt). take care of yourselves folks

Bobby’s not asleep when the phone rings, but he is a level and a half away from finally beating Zelda’s Adventure, so the annoyance in his voice is entirely legitimate when he answers with a simple, “Dude.”

He doesn’t need to bother asking who it is. Only his dumbass friends call him in the middle of the night.

It’s Alex on the other end, and his voice comes out quiet and dull, more so than just the late hour would usually warrant. “Hi.”

Bobby sits up straighter, pausing his game and putting the controller aside. “Alex? You all right, man?”

Alex gives a soft, sleepy hum. Bobby starts looking for his shoes.

“Bad night?” He fights to keep his voice calm and casual even as his heart threatens to beat right out of his chest. He doesn’t know the whole situation yet—there’s no point in getting all up in arms about something that might not even be happening, especially if his panic ends up being the very thing to push Alex over the edge.

“Yeah,” Alex whispers, voice a little teary now. “I didn’t—I haven’t—”

“Okay,” Bobby steps in so he doesn’t have to say it, even as he goes practically faint with relief. He holds the phone in one hand so he can pull his shoes on with the other. “I’m coming over anyway, okay? Be there in ten minutes.”

“It’s so late,” Alex whispers. “Shit, I shouldn’t have bothered you. Fuck.”

Fuck is right. Bobby’s mind races—he’s gotta hang up the phone if he’s gonna leave the house, but if he leaves Alex spiraling like this…

He’d call Luke or Reggie, middle of the night be damned, and ask them to stay on the phone with Alex until Bobby can get over there, if he hadn’t promised himself—promised Alex—that he wouldn’t tell their friends how bad this gets sometimes.

So he cuts off Alex’s rambly apologies with a quick, “Hey, hey, hey, where are you right now?”

A pause, and then: “Bathroom.”

Bobby mentally curses. The only worse place for Alex to be when he gets like this than the bathroom is the kitchen—and pills are a lot easier to swallow, pun morbidly intended, than putting a knife to your skin. The temptation is harder to resist when he’s on his own.

But he takes a breath, keeps his voice calm. “Okay. That’s a good place to be, yeah? Nice and quiet in the bathroom.” He rubs a hand over his mouth, thinking. “Listen, Lex, I want you to look up at the ceiling for me, all right? How many grains are in the tile?”

Alex scoffs. “I don’t fucking know, like a million?”

“Right, but I gotta know how many exactly, see, so I can… so I can get the same design at my new place!”

He’s got his keys, his coat—shit, pants would probably be helpful. After a moment of hesitation, Alex says, “The fuck you talking about? What new place?”

“The place… that I’m gonna get for us. After high school. All right, you hear me? I want those same damn tiles for the ceiling of our bathroom when I get you out of that fucking house and someplace safe, so I need you to count the grains for me, so I know how to get ‘em exactly right.”

He’s dressed now, one hand on the front door—all he needs now is for Alex to be okay, and then he can go make sure Alex is okay.

“What about Luke and Reggie?”

“Oh, those two doofuses? They can live with us too, I guess. If they want.”

Alex snorts, and it’s enough. Enough to tell Bobby he’s still got some humor left in him, despite the bad night. Enough to let Bobby’s heart drop out of his throat, to let him believe Alex is out of the danger zone. It’s gonna take a lot to get him totally back in the green, to convince his brain to shut up for a minute and let Alex believe Bobby when he says he deserves to live.

They’ve got a long night ahead of them, but everything will look brighter in the morning.

Alex starts to count, low but out loud, and Bobby breathes through so much love for him it hurts. “Good job, buddy,” he whispers. “Wait right there for me. I’m on my way.”

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

sad trauma dump but idk where else to say it and its lowkey relevant

daddy all along was a solution to my having alcoholic parents trauma, but that last drabble was me slapping a bandaid over one of the worst events in my life (maybe)

so, basically, i had a long term bf, and he used to guilt me into sex essentially like he would be like 'why are you not attracted to me anymore?' and then i would be like 'no it's literally that i have recent and past trauma about things being put in vagina' (reignited by the obgyn unintentionally) and he would be like 'it's been months, you're over that by now, i wish i had a normal gf etc.'

so then i would be like (in my mind) 'alright well, he'll love me and not argue with me and ill get cuddled if i have sex w him so ill just take my sleepy time pills (klonopin) early so i'm a lil more relaxed and there's no pain' (i thought this was normal behavior for a really long time btw)

and then, sometimes (often) i would try so hard to 'do it' but it was too painful (... happens when you have trauma and don't know you are actually gay whoops) and then i would feel so bad and apologize

and one time, we were at a hotel and i tried so hard multiple times and i couldn't it was just too painful and so we had a room w multiple beds (i prefer to have sex in one bed and sleep in another it's an ocd thing) and he went and slept in the other bed - just turned out the light, rolled over and went to bed without a word - while i sat there (after putting my pajama pants back on) and cried myself to sleep

and basically, that's my roman empire.

funnily enough (not haha funny) the fight to end all fights was about SA. he was like 'not that many women experience it' and 'a lot of women lie' and i was like 'did you not believe me when i told you five years ago that it happened to me when i was 16?' and he was like 'no i believe you' and i was like 'i have more friends who've gone through it, than friends who haven't - do you not believe them?' and he was like 'i don't know, maybe they're lying bc girls have never told me about stuff happening to them' and i was like 'can you see why girls don't tell guys about that stuff? especially guys like you?' and i literally broke up with him (he had already cheated on me multiple times and we were "trying again to repair our relationship") i just straight up said 'i can't do this anymore' and hung up the phone.

and now, maybe if you've read through this, you can see where i'm going... he knew about me taking the klonopin before sex and that i needed it to relax and he still thought it was a good idea to just go ahead and do it (and then get mad at me when i was crying in pain)... that's a little dubcon to me

my other (semi-related) roman empire is that whenever i cried, my bf was nice to me, but he would also get hard whenever i cried (and i'm not typically a 'crying out of pleasure' type of girl' even if i'm having a decent time during sex) like he would get an erection when i was sad crying. and he would apologize, but like still laugh off the situation and i always felt weird about it (more annoyed at the time, but not like :0, but not i'm like :0)

i don't know where else to put all these thoughts bc my therapist kind of brushed this stuff off (when i used to go to one) honestly the only person who's been helpful is like one friend and a girl i dated for a lil while, so if anyone read this whole thing, im sorry, and idk what else to say

[ashlingnarcos]

take it

Javier Peña/gender neutral!Reader: informant x javi, reader knows him all too well, hurt/comfort, angst

length: 2.1k, can read on ao3 here instead if you like

inspiration from @narcolini

warnings: referenced kidnapping of reader, tiny bit of kinda sorta choking, also no actual smut

comments & fandom-related asks welcome!

Smell comes to you first: the threatening undertone of shitty apartment mildew, the warm human smell of rumpled sheets, coffee floating on top rich and strong. Then comes sound, a defective air conditioner not fighting the hot air so much as just moving it around. Then comes pain. 

Most of the pain is a few days old, dulled to ache, but your hand, that's new. Tiny, negligible, but new. There's something holding you down, your shoulder, pressing you into the mattress, but no urge to fight it. No urge to fight it. Why? You blink, glance up. 

Javi’s sitting at the edge of the bed, to your left, legs dangling over the side. The motel room is his, and the hand is his too. He’s leaning on your shoulder, holding you down in earnest, but his attention is elsewhere, on some papers in his free hand. He’s squinting.

He should really see about getting some glasses, but he won't. Just keeps claiming he's tired, he doesn't need them, but he is always tired and he still needs glasses. So tired. Look at him. 

If he didn't have his work occupying both his hands, he'd probably scrub them over his face in that way that always serves as prelude to drinking, fucking, sleeping, or bad decisions—sometimes all four, though not in that order. But he's got work in both hands, so he sits steady beside you. God.

You look down at your own hurt hand, discover that someone's put a band-aid on it. Javi has. Can't be anyone else; nobody else knows you're here. It doesn’t feel so bad, maybe a small bruise, a nick. Couple spots of blood on the hem of his long-sleeve t-shirt. A little nick.

In any other bed, upon waking with fresh injuries, you'd be out of your mind with fear. Here, you're just sleepy.

You look down at Javi's hand securing you, the spread fingers. You've seen what this hand can do. Each knuckle different. Two scars, minor, light lines across the back of his hand, maybe an inch and a half long, negligible but for how straight they are, and how parallel. That's ominous. Still could be an accident, but possibly not. What happened, Javi? Accidental scars or not, had to be someone. Many of them, you think. Had to be many of them. He's too stubborn a man to be brought this low by just the one. 

Or maybe you're mythologizing again. That's a bad habit of yours. Can't fucking help it, though, can you? If men continually refuse to let you turn on the light, the shadows will come alive with possibilities.

When you put your hand over his, feeling his knuckles against your open palm, you can't resist tracing the raised lines of his scars with your thumb.  

Javi startles as though at a buzzing fly, knocked out of whatever world those papers had constructed around him, knocking out of your reverie, and suddenly you're both back in the world. 

He closes the file and throws it on the nightstand, tries to take his hand back, but you tighten your grip and he lets you keep it. You interlace your fingers. God, it feels good. Mostly for the way he looks at you, affectionately searching.

“You okay?” he says, soft.

“You tell me.” Still holding onto him, you angle your hand up, indicate the band-aid with your thumb.

Something stirs behind his eyes. “You roll around a lot when you’re dreaming. Nicked it on the windowsill.”

Do you want to ask him whether you talked in your sleep, too? Maybe you didn’t. Maybe you got lucky, and only fought. No wonder he was holding you down. 

Those sleeping pills are no joke, you're about to say. But before you can, Javi strokes your hair with his free hand. 

He doesn't even try to camouflage it with purpose, doesn’t push your hair back from your face or pick out invisible lint. Just his fingertips, honest, and a face that makes him look both younger and older than he is at once.

Jesus, Javi, if I'd known that climbing into your bed was all it took to melt you, I'd have done this two months ago.

“How are you feeling?” he says.

Last night, it was his stash of bandages laid carefully on your skin, then cold cans of his beer pressed to your bruises. Now you're wearing his shirt, a pair of his boxers, underneath his sheets—his hand is in yours, his hand is in your hair—his eyes are on you, he's fucking everywhere. He's all over you. He's all over you, and you want more. 

"Come here,” you say.

"Hm?" he says, like he doesn't know what you mean, smiling a half-smile that gives himself away. 

You let go, sit up till your hip is pressed to his, and lean in until your foreheads touch, until he’s all you can see. Every little detail. 

Up close, his brown eyes aren’t the way you imagined them, not self-satisfied or lust-darkened or even excited. You’ve never seen this expression on his face before. The closest you’ve ever seen was a caution appropriate to having a gun pressed to his temple. This, though, is something tentative.

"Come here,” you say again, and he does, presses a dry close-mouthed kiss to the corner of your lips, almost chaste. 

For that, you turn your head and bite his bottom lip. Not hard, just enough so his lips part, so you can slip your tongue inside, and oh, oh, when he takes your face in his hands and fucking commits, it’s so good. You sigh a sound into his mouth that you didn’t even know you were going to make. 

There’s that smile of his, that satisfaction, but then he angles his head and whatever comment you were going to make gets lost. You get lost. 

One of his hands slides up your back, underneath your shirt, and there’s something obscene in the sheer span of his spread fingers, the way they flex against your skin, his fingertips digging in. Then there’s his other hand, fingertips slipping under the waistband of your boxers. You stop that hand, put it on your ass instead, and brace yourself for the inevitable.

But the inevitable never comes. No questions, no protests, just Javi grabbing your ass, pulling you in, shifting you till you’re straddling his thigh and he can press his open mouth to your neck. Teeth, too, slow and filthy. You tangle your hands in his sweat-damp hair and keep waiting for him to pull back and ask, but he never does. As you grind down on his thigh, the words just happen. 

“You’re so perfect, you make me sick,” you murmur. “How’d I get so lucky?”

He pauses only long enough to get out one syllable, barely audible: “Don’t.”

Then he’s back to your neck, kissing his way up to the sensitive spot just behind the corner of your jaw, like nothing happened.

“What?” you say, barely able to think, but vaguely, disturbingly aware that something did just happen. 

“Nothing,” he murmurs in your ear, and you feel a pinprick of alarm: he’s trying to make it sound sexy. Trying. “Come here.” 

And now you’re getting exactly what you wanted; he’s all over you. He lowers you onto the mattress and follows, kissing the other side of your neck as his whole body presses you down. Not his whole body weight—he’s holding himself up a bit with one arm. He’s so careful, so intent, so inescapable, for a second you almost give yourself up to it. But then you remember.

“Wait.” You angle your head, try to catch his eyes, and fail. “What?”

Javi picks himself up, so now he’s got one hand planted on either side of your head, leaning over you, panting a little, hair a mess.

“What?” you say. Your voice sounds smaller than you wanted it to be.

“You don’t have to—” He smiles, and fuck he’s so beautiful, but something in that smile makes him look drained down to the last dregs. “Can we not talk?” 

Oh. Goddamn him. 

A memory rises up, sharp and sudden, searing as staring at the sun: you rubbing your wrists where the handcuffs had been, looking down at the red marks, Javi beside you, pressing the first of many cold beers to the bruise on your forehead because he didn’t have an ice pack. And his voice, as if from far away, saying I’m sorry, over and over. 

It wasn’t that bad, really, you would have said, if you’d been paying attention to him. But in that moment you were mostly trying to decide whether to stay or run.

I’m so sorry.

Javi’s eyes contain those echoes now, as his smile fades. 

A fierce protectiveness surges up in you: you want to shake him, you want to fuck him, you want to make him say all the shit he won’t ever say. 

You take his throat in your hand, instead. His Adam’s apple fits so good in the V between your thumb and forefinger. 

“You don’t have to talk,” you say. “But I do.”

Who does he think he is? He doesn’t get a monopoly on guilt because he never had a monopoly on power. It’s that simple. He carries the weight of the world on his back because his ego lets him think the world is his to carry. Come the fuck on. 

Somebody needs to teach him how to surrender, and it’s gonna be you.

“Javi,” you say, low.

He’s not looking at you properly, so you let go of his throat and then take hold of his jaw, surge up off the bed till he finally looks at you. In that moment, he looks almost frightened of you, in a way that has nothing to do with your hand. 

“You found me,” you say. “You saved me. You, and no one else. Fucking take it.” 

Oh, but he's always been a fighter. 

He lunges at you as if you’d said something else, something filthy, and you let him think he’s won for a second, let him think it’s only sex, let him press you into the mattress, opening your mouth to him and kissing him back fiercely. 

When he pulls away to get air, your hand is on his jaw again, your forehead against his once more, relentless. 

“I knew it would be you,” you say, “I knew you’d come for me. I held onto that for the fucking whole car ride. All night in the basement, handcuffed, with a bag over my head, waiting to see what would happen. I had nothing else, but I had that. Don’t tell me that’s nothing.”

Javi bursts out, like you’re hurting him, “If I hadn’t asked you—”

“I made my own choices. I make my own choices. Yes or no?”

“Yes,” he says, but defiant, face set like you’re in an interrogation room and he’s on the wrong side of the table. 

Jesus Christ, this man is so fucking stubborn. You’ve never been angrier with him, never cared for him more. 

“You think your cock is that good, Javier? Please. I would do a lot of shit for you, but I would never let a man override my own judgment, whether or not I—whether I gave a damn if he lived or died.” 

Ah, shit. The first part came out so good, and then that last part, that last part slipped out all by itself. You may as well have said you love him, which, maybe you do, so what if you do? It doesn’t need saying.

Up until that last part, Javi had been stonefaced, but when you cut yourself off and took a breath, something shifted. He’s listening to you now, properly.

You set yourself right and say, more steadily, “Anything I do, that’s on me. I make my own choices, yes or no?”

“Yes.” He says it quieter this time, quieter and truer. Close enough. You'll take it.

“Good.” You lift your hand to cup his sweat-damp cheek. His lashes dip, but he leans into it. When you press your finger just under his jaw, you can feel his carotid artery thumping away, and for a moment, that’s all there is, his heartbeat.

“And now,” you say evenly, so he won’t suspect how the sentence ends, “I’m going to make you come so hard, you won’t even dream afterwards. Yeah?”

Javi bursts out laughing, at you and at himself, but his pulse quickens in anticipation just the same. You’re back. When he grins, he shows teeth, a challenge you're only too happy to take. You'll show him. You kiss it into him, first, right into his parted lips: no guilt, no shame, we can be good, baby. We can be so fucking good.

And you are.

[iamadart]

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ʀᴇᴏ x ɢɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ Warning- Yandere behavior, blood, kidnapping and used of special drugs.

You, Reo and Nagi were bestfriend nothing could separate you guy but that was what you thought Reo always have a feeling for you even tho he denied it but over some time he became somewhat obsessed with you that was when you guy's perfect friendship start to crack

"Reo is an ass" Nagi say Reo was no where to be seen it was just the two of you "What happened?" you asked Nagi you're first thought was that they fight again in a playful manner "Reo, it's about him" Nagi say as he sit beside you

"What did he do this time?" you asked Nagi who was playing game's "Can't say" he simply say "Oh c'mon aren't we bestfriend, no keeping secrets" you say as you shake him playfully making sure you didn't disturb his important game "There are something I can't say to you" he simply say as Reo finally decided to show himself "Are you two having fun?" Reo asked as you just sight annoyed "What happened did you two argue again?" he asked "Not that Nagi would not just tell me something" you complain as Reo laugh at you're silly behavior

"You know..." Reo say as you look at him "Curiosity kill the cat...." Reo say out the blue as you just shrug "Nah, Reo what's with you and killing now a day?" you asked as he chuckled sitting beside you

you were sitting in the middle have a nice chat with Reo but because you didn't pay attention much you didn't know that Nagi was somewhat feeling uncomfortable was it because he was getting left out more or was the couch not big enough for the three of you that can not be the couch was really big it could handle 8 people

"Nagi are you ok?" you asked Nagi who was visibly upset with something "No I'm good" he simply reply as you just give him all the attention making a certain purple head man jelouse

It was always Nagi...

Nagi Nagi Nagi NAGI NAGI NAGI NAGI!!!

You never give him attention! and it was making him anger he was boiling with anger

How many time did he tell Nagi to stop taking all you're attention. But Nagi only took Reo warning slightly

Now Nagi have to face consequences...

"Ah Reo are you ok?" you asked as you wave you're hand infront of Reo he look at you than to Nagi with a glare "I'm fine, you know do you want some drink?" Reo asked you two "What kind?" you asked as Reo chuckled "You're favorite one" he say as he pat you're head

"I want some" Nagi say as you nod Reo smile as he get up you look at him confused "Huh? Reo where are you going?" you asked "to make you're favorite drink" he say

"That's strange you only let your servant do it, you would always say that you dont want to leave our side?" you look at him confused

"I change" he say as he walk into the kitchen "strange" you say as you look at Nagi play his game's

Reo was making you're favorite drink like he promised but this time he took out two different pill a special pill indeed as he smile he add the A pill to Nagi drink and add the B to your's but he add nothing to his drink he mix the pill well making sure you and Nagi could not see the difference

he add some ice to everyone drink as he bring the drink in the living room seeing you being so clost to Nagi piss him off but he always manage to calm himself

"Drink is here, Enjoy" he say as he drink his first "Wah it taste strange" you say as Reo became a little nervous

"Well it's my first time making one so... no judgement" he simply say as you drink you're favorite drink Nagi didn't drink much "Mine taste like rubber" Nagi complains making Reo mad

"Mine tastes like lotion" you say as you drink it you were only drinking because you didn't want Reo to feel bad so you guys drink it

Not even an hour pass you start to feel sleepy but Nagi was complaining about how much his stomach hurt until

Nagi cough dropping his Nintendo he hold his stomach as he fell to the ground you try to get up but you're leg give up on you making you fall tight to the hard ground

Blood pour down Nagi mouth he was still alive but he was coughing out so much blood only Reo remained

"Ah, I see it finally work" Reo say as he pick you up sitting you on the couch again "What did you do?!" you asked as he just stare at Nagi who was suffering

"It will only take an hour" he say calmly "What will?!" you asked you try to move you're hand but you could not control it "The poison, his inside organs are slowly disappearing" he say as you try to wake you're self up you were feeling extremely sleepy "Good night love" he say as you clost you're eyes

[darp123]

We had a thing going, although you wouldn't know would you? How we fucked, how i spent hours late at night devouring your body. And how when your alarm was about to go off id finish inside you, tell you I love you, and go back to my room.

This had been going on ever since I found out you were on heavy sleeping medications, although it started out as any fumbling relationship would. Tentative hands running on your body, making sure you were asleep. That was good enough for a time. But touches turned to grope, the meat of my hand digging into your bald little slit.

And you moaned, didn't you kitten? Your back arched into me as I could feel you start to leak all over my hand.

From there, I had to have you.

The first time you were almost too tight to get it in. You gave a yelp in pain as I forcefully entered you. But the little sleepy moans never stopped. That was our first time, the start of our thing.

The next day, you looked at me weirdly, but not as if you knew what had happened. You just complained about some aches, about a weird dream, and went about your day. Thats how I knew I owned you.

Of course I continued, how could I not? You were the perfect woman to me. Sometimes I'd talk to you, confess before I entered you. Sometimes I'd even go down if you looked like it hurt too much. But each night finished the same way, with you leaking my cum.

I never even considered you'd be off the pill. I guess it didn't play well with the sleeping pills. I didn't know what had happened until I overheard you on the phone. Dont worry pet, ill take responsibility for it.

Thats how I started weaning you off the pill. Those dirty dream looks started happening more and more. Until finally one day you woke up with me in you. You didn't even fight, did you kitten? You couldn't. All you could do is moan for me. It was, after all, like you had imagined it every night. What you rubbed your slit too every day. Your dream come true.

[iamvegorott]

For the random prompts could you maybe do #20 with Danti, Anti having some weird headache or stressed out

20. “My head is killing me.”

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“I’m dying.”

“You’re not dying.” 

“Death is coming for me.” 

“Stop it.” Dark rolled his eyes as he placed several bottles of water on the bedside table, along with a medicine bottle. 

“My head is killing me.” Anti’s groan got muffled by the pillow he had his face pressed into. 

“It’s called a headache. They usually tend to happen when you’ve been awake for three days and only consuming energy drinks.” Dark was annoyed that he got put in charge of helping Anti. Henrik and Edward were busy with others, and no one else wanted to put up with it, and Dark was now understanding why. 

Anti was the biggest baby when he was sick. 

“I was working,” Anti grumbled, whining when Dark grabbed his shoulder and made him flip over to his back. 

“Working is not the word I would use.” Dark took one of the water bottles, opened it, and placed it in Anti’s hand. “Nonsense is one of the many words I’d call your mess.” He opened the medicine bottle and poured two pills into his hand. 

“You know you love it~” Anti sang. Dark just made a face and slapped his hand over Anti’s mouth, forcing the pills to go in there. 

“Shut up and swallow,” Dark said, moving his hand back since he knew if he kept it there too long; Anti would lick his palm.

“Oh, Darky, I always imagined you telling me to swallow something else~” Anti had tucked the pulls into his cheek to tease and then pulled them back out with his tongue as he lifted the bottle to his lips and downed half the bottle as he swallowed the pills. 

“You’re so immature.” Dark huffed before sitting on the end of the bed. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be nice to the dying?” 

“Again. You are not dying.” 

“Darky,” Anti whined the nickname. 

“Keep pouting, and I’m leaving you to suffer alone.” Dark had been told to wait after Anti took the pills. Henrik said they were special-made for him but needed him watched over until the effect kicked in. Sometimes it only took a minute. Sometimes it took thirty. Dark hoped for the shortest length. 

“I know you’re not allowed to.” Anti giggled, moving himself to his knees and still facing Dark. “Henrik and Edward would give you hell if you did.” 

“It’s sounding more and more worth it.” Dark watched as Anti moved his blanket so it was behind him. “What are you doing?” 

“Getting comfortable,” Anti stated before plopping over and placing his head on Dark’s lap. 

“What are you doing?” Dark asked again. 

“Sleepy,” Anti mumbled, wiggling and then sighing happily as he got nice and cozy. 

“Really?” Dark huffed, figuring that Anti would be out in a few minutes and he could move him and leave. Might as well let him be his usual little shit self and not fight. He stared down at Anti, waiting for the signs of him being asleep, humming when he noticed Anti’s hair in his eyes. “Comfortable, my ass,” Dark muttered and used his hand to brush Anti’s hair back, pausing when that got Anti to nearly purr and nuzzle his head against Dark’s hand unconsciously. The pause lasted for another moment before Dark decided to run his hand through Anti’s hair again, telling himself he was doing this because it would likely get him to fall asleep sooner, and he could finally leave. 

Anti was dead asleep within a few minutes, but Dark ended up staying way past that. He played with Anti’s hair long enough that his own eyes were growing heavy. Dark tried to fight off sleep but soon caved and laid back against the bed, falling asleep with his legs hanging over the edge of the bed with Anti dozing in his lap. 

It was an interesting time explaining everything when Wilford barged in later that day. 

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Random Prompts: Link