#i would let the pill dissolve my tongue

[heartfullofleeches]

yes please dear god smile reader is baby

[Very baby. Here's how Yan Scientist and their slime formally met]

"Subject 43? Payment for yesterday's efforts."

"An apple....but you said I could go home."

Feeding day - as if their headache couldn't get any worse. Like common livestock, their possessions squealed and whined about the most senseless things. Pleading for testing to cease; begging to be returned to their families when it was their love ones who sold them to begin with. The scientist would sooner snip out their tongues if it meant a moment of peace, but they were not a tyrant - plus verbal records of their subjects experiences was easier to stomach at night than written. The audio logs had lulled them to sleep better than any pill or liquid could.

"I said it was a possibility - if you did what I asked properly. You may have killed your cellmate, but you did not bring me their eyes. A shame really. I took the time out of my day to prepare your meal by hand. Ah - well, there's someone who will appreciate my efforts more. Tell me, tuna or ham?"

A wet gurgle sounds from the scientist's pocket."

"Both? You greedy devil. I suppose you do deserve something special for putting up with the same pains that I do."

The scientist picks up two sandwiches and smushes them together as the mass in their pocket becomes denser; gooey tendrils slithering up the length of their coat and crawling onto their shoulder as they lift their hand. The blob sucks up the sandwiches into its gelatinous body, wiggling with delight as they're broken down and absorbed into its structure. The scientist pats the gel with one finger causing it to vibrate more violently resulting in a breathy laugh from its owner.

"Alright, we have more subjects to feed. Come on, You - you too."

The scientist snaps their fingers at the Henchman wheeling the cart who closes the cell door as they both exit. The slime creeps down their shirt and through their sleeve as they walk, resting in the scientist's palm. A marvel their little companion was. They wished they had the honor of creating it, but it's origins were a mystery even to them. The scientist found the creature munching away on the undissolved bones of a past test subject. From numerous experiments, the scientist discovered their new lab partner could not only breakdown organic compounds, but most non living object too and had a choice on what it consumed. It made for the perfect little helper to get rid of all the dead bodies and those who oppose them. The best part about the slime was that it had no mouth and therefore the most tolerable member of the team.

The scientist's smile melts as they enter the next cell. The stress that had fled them by the usage of their slime as a stress toy skyrocketed seeing the act of utter betrayal pointed at them. A lackey, standing over a motionless subject - gun raised at their employer. The scientist sighs.

"Please remove your mask."

The Henchman does as told. Figures - there was only one other person the scientist trusted with the codes. They supposed trying to make this a family business was a poor decision.

"Emery - this has got to stop."

A chuckle. "Does it really?"

"You won, just let him go. I know you didn't have the best upbringing, but he still your -"

Emery grits their teeth, squirming the slime so hard it slithers out of their grip. "You don't know shit. If it makes you feel any better, I haven't actually done anything to him - yet. Just locked him down here, with all the others nobody would care to miss. There is no persuading me on this. If you have nothing else to say - do it."

Their Henchman reaches for his gun, Emery rests their hand over his. Through clouded view and reasoning, the figure steadies their gun. They look away, unable to look as they pull the trigger on the once innocent child they knew. Emery doesn't flinch as it fires - a teal web covering the entirety of their chest and dissolving the bullet as soon as it hits. Their attacker looks on in horror, but before they can do anything Emery takes their henchman's gun as their own and fires back, bullet piercing their heart. Emery's head falls, expressionless eyes gazing out at the person left alive - mouthing two words.

"Your fault."

Emery exhales, placing a hand over their chest and gathering the slime into one ball. "One thing after another. Now I have to fire a new head. Eat your meal and return to me when you're done."

They lower the slime to the ground who plops out on the smooth surface - spitting an apple out that rolls at the scientist feet. They pick it up as they walk off, wiping away tears.

-

A picture frame shatters.

"Why would you choose him and not me. Why!?"

The picture holds a smiling, bucktooth child in the arms of their butler as they show off their award for the camera and all to see. The person who taught them everything, the only one there when they had no one. Emery throws an empty bottle at the image, sinking down at the foot of their bed - cradling their arms to their chest.

"why....."

The sound of wet suction weaves into their cries as the slime wrigglies itself beneath the crack in their bedroom door. It inches towards them, shaking violently before spitting up as locket on the floor. Emery goes to grab it, but as they do the smile shoots up their arm and spreads out, and puffs up over their shoulder like a makeshift pillow. Emery cards their fingers their hair, climbing to their feet and pocketing the trinket.

"I guess I do need some rest. Thank you, You. You seem to be the only one I can't trust."

More gurgles.

"I guess I should give you an actual name eventually." They sight - broken body collapsible on their bed and crawling under their blankets with the help of their aid. The slime hops up on their pillow as they raise their head - solidifying as they rest. "Goodnight, You."

That night - Emery had the worse night's rest they ever had in their twenty-seven years of living.

"You are my sunshine. My only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are gray~"

Is someone ... singing?

"You'll never know, dear. How much I love you-"

The voice sounds so familiar....no... There's more than one. It's hard to remember something so sweet - when all those voices ever did was beg you to stop.

"Please don't take - my sunshine away."

Emery shoots up like a lightning bolt. Their hands search the bed for their glasses which had fallen - finding a squishy, but very real feeling hand beneath their grasp. Emery locates their glasses as the body's see through eyelids peel back.

"Goodnight, You!"

Emery screams - rolling out of the bed in a tanglement of their blankets and obscenities. The interior in the bed sits up, puzzled; bubbles floating through their translucent body as their anxiety peaks.

"Emery.....this you?" The figure points, noting the odd number of fingers on its hand as it looks at theirs. "Mmm wrong...."

Emery's eyes widen as the slime's sixth finger merges into the fifth. "Y-you?...."

The slime chirps. "Emery!"

Emery looks strength in their knees. "What? How?..."

"Ahhh.... You - eat meal... gr...ow better at shape. Too much at one time - hard to understand. Able to single out things Emery say - Emery is... the only one I can trust."

Emery clutches their head. "Ngh..."

"Help?" The slime lunges foward, reverting to its natural state as it crashes into the floor and forming back into its humanoid shell as it catches them before they stumble. It was hard to notice with half of them hanging off the bed, but the slime was massive - size their size if they had to estimate. They bury their face into their hands. "This can't be happy.

The smlie's droppy smile falters. "Wrong? Wanted to make you happy. I..will go back if it makes you happy. Sad Emery...makes me sad too."

Emery looks up at the slime. They raise out their hand, stroking the slime's cold cheek. It hums with a full body shutter - leaning into their palm until their fingers poke through the membrane. Emery retracts their hand, sliding it into their now empty pocket.

"It's fine. I guess we really need to pick a name for you now."

"Mm I pick?"

"Do you have something in mind?"

"Y/n!"

"Where'd you pick up that one?"

The slime points to their head. "Memories. I... like it the most out of them."

"I see... Y/n, it's cute. Alright, Y/n - let's go get some breakfast."

The slime spits a small bag from its stomach contents onto its hand, giving the trail mix too them. That's much more alarming when it's coming out a real mouth and tongue.

"Breakfast!"

Emery takes it with two fingers, holding the dripping bag away from their face. "Thank you, Y/n......at least I have you by my side."

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere scenarios #yandere blurb #yandere oc #yandere scenario #yandere drabble #monster reader #Slime reader

[yourgaeyisshowing]

Chronically Ill Truths

Fibromyalgia

Larissa x Wife!Reader

Chronically Ill Truths

Fibromyalgia - Larissa x Reader

Chronically Ill Truths

Fibromyalgia - Larissa x Reader

It was truly the worst time of year for you. The warm summer days that eased your joints in the early sun were fading and the chill of fall was setting in. You knew a flair was coming on when you went to bed the night before, but when you woke up it was so much worse. You kept a bin next to the bed for bad pain days, and today was no exception. Rolling over your joints ached and cracked as you're swollen hands quickly reached for the bin. Retching almost painfully, you felt your hair being moved from your face and a soft hand rubbing circles on your back. Once you were finished the bin was removed from your shaking hands and taken care of quickly. You could hear the water running in the tub and the smell tea followed.

“Come darling, let's try to get a head of this and ease the symptoms while the needs kick in.” Larissa said sweetly, handing you your purple cane and helping to steady you on your feet. This woman was your rock, and you loved her. When you first came to Nevermore as an English teacher you only had mild symptoms, now 5 years later you were happily married to Larissa and together you co-taught your classes allowing you to still work and enjoy your passion even with your disability. The worst of your symptoms started two years ago, it was just a lot of swelling and aches. Now it was full blown flair ups, that sometimes lasted for days and on the rare occasion a week or more.

When a bad flare would start, Larissa would help start an IV of fluids to help ease your symptoms and push Your meds if you needed them. She was insistent that she learned how to do it, so that you could have them at home instead of the hospital. After a soak in the hot epsom salt bath and a cup of ginger tea she helped you dress in something comfortable and settled you back in bed. Starting one of your IVs she asked if you wanted some pain meds to help, you nodded and were grateful for her help and dedication. “Riss, I think I'm going to need my compression wraps” you told her, admitting defeat to the hell they were. She handed them to you and prepped your meds before pushing them through your IV and flushing it. After getting one leg wrapped in the tight compression wrap, you were exhausted. Handing her the other she took it without complaint and wrapped your other leg for you. The relief was worth the trouble of these stupid things, but you didn't care right now. “Can I have some Zofran please?” You asked, still feeling nauseous. She gave you a quick kiss and retrieved the minty tasting pill for you before placing it on your tongue to dissolve. After she did she set the flow rate on your IV and climbed into bed next to you. It only took about 5 minutes before you were so tired you couldn't hold your eyes open anymore. The fatigue set in and you easily succumbed to it.

When you woke it was midday and Larissa was gently stroking your cheek. “Hello darling, I brought you something to eat. It's time for some more meds too. You noticed she replaced your IV bag with a new one and it was on a very slow drip. Smiling, you thanked her and ate as much as you could of the cheese on toast and tomato soup she made you. “I have your pain meds as well as some anti inflammation meds and some more Zofran for you if you want it. I noticed you were perking in your sleep a bit too so I grabbed your spasm medication too.” She set the different syringes of meds down on your nightstand as she sat on the edge of the bed. “What would I do without you? You could have fallen in love with someone normal, and instead here you are taking care of me.” She almost looked hurt at your words. “Darling I married you because I love you, that means all of you. Good, bad and ugly.” You leaned forwards and gave her a soft kiss before settling back on the pillows again as you watched her push your meds again and flush your IV for you.

The day went on with lots of love and patience from your wife. You were blessed that she was compassionate with you, always making sure if you needed her she was there for you. You dropped your mobility aids and she would pick them up without question. And even during the night she would feel you start to get up and would wordlessly come around to your side of the bed and help you to your feet. She never complained, you hated how much like a burden you felt. She would just scoff and give you a kiss and tell you how much she loved you and that you were never a burden to her.

One of the things you most loved was how much she came to bat for you with your doctors, none of them seemed to take you seriously thinking you were just another drug seeker. She would tear each one a new one and bring your medical binder to slam in their faces if need be. She kept a detailed record of everything for you, calming her own anxieties in doing so keeping it all put together as fine as her updo. One doctor made the mistake of telling you on one of your bad days that it was all in your head and to try meditation. That was a mistake. “You mean to tell me that the pain, tears, swelling of her joints and other various symptoms are just a figment of her imagination? Well if that’s the case I’d rather like to take my stiletto to your ass and see how you think that imagination feels!” you still giggle over the memory of that poor doctor's face when Larissa was done with him. She could be down right scary when it came to the ones she loved. She was your lover, protector, wife, and blessed caregiver, and you loved her with everything you had in you.

Your students were also very loving and compassionate to you, they were always eager to help around the classroom and stay after class to help you prep if you needed it. You and Larissa thought of them like your own and had become mother figures to most of them. Your disability and adversity to it was the reason one particular girl came to you and Larissa with her own issues showing signs of the same chronic disease that plagued you. When you found out she had worthless parents, Larissa and yourself were determined to make sure Amara got the care she needed so she could thrive. When the diagnosis came back true, she cried and cried. That was when she told you she had lived with the pain for six years, her parents accusing her of attention seeking. Larissa made sure her medicine was picked up like clockwork every month personally and she had your cell numbers if she needed you anytime day or night.

There were a few times she was unable to go to class and would spend time in Larissa’s office doing make up work or homework under a heated blanket with a cup of hot cocoa. The girl thrived after she was given the help she needed. Her grades improved and she graduated in the top of her class, that was two years ago now. She stayed at nevermore as a dark arts teacher, and when she got married to a lovely gorgon boy a few months ago, her own parents decided they wouldn’t be attending. She didn’t mind though, because she walked down the aisle with pride having both of you on her arms guiding her and giving her away. This is what love was. This was acceptance. She was so worried that she would have a flair the day of the celebration and wouldn’t be able to enjoy it, you remember it like it was yesterday. Kneeling down to her eyes where she sat, you spoke softly.

“Your disability doesn’t define you, anyone who thinks it does can go to hell. You are strong and just as able as any other girl, your mum and I will be there with you and will hold you up if we need to, just like we did when you walked the stage at your graduation. You will never be alone my love, you have us to lean on when your own feet can’t hold you up.”

*********

My Groupies: @aemilia19 @lostmyotheraccount @shyladyfan @dingdongthetail @barbarasstar @maxfanartfan @no-phrogs-in-hats @weemssapphic @cissyenthusiast010155

#larissa weems #gwendoline christie #gwendolineuniverse #principal weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa x y/n #wednesday #larissa x wife!reader #chronically ill #chronic pain #chronic illness #fibromyalgia #Chronic ill truths

[seraphofthesimps]

Yandere! Shuji Hanma x Reader

TW: violent themes, kidnapping, drug use, guns, knives, non-consensual actions, mentions of murder, blood, female reader

Word count: 3918

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!" You heard his voice taunt you as you stumbled through the poorly lit room, trying to be as quiet as possible. You already tried crying, screaming, begging for him to stop this, but there was no reasoning with him. This was not the same Shuji you thought you knew. The only choice that remained: escape. Leave and never look back. That would be easier said than done though. Every door, every window was a dead end. Every route strategically blocked, locked, and a few even sealed off permanently, impossible to breach. Hanma had once taught you how to pick locks and force a door open, but that would not work in the slightest here. The locks on these doors were unlike any you had ever seen, resembling contraptions you thought possible only in horror films. The bars on the windows were reinforced, and the glass itself was frosted so that no one would be able to see in either. Hope all but disappeared when you opened one door, to find it blocked by a cement wall. It was obvious by now, help would not be coming for you. If you wanted to get out, you would have to find a way to do it yourself.

"Sweethearttt," the nickname now sounded anything but sweet, "it's no fun if you don't play with me. Make a noise and I'll come give you a kiss." The sound of his voice getting closer and closer heightened the panic that had long ago set in and you picked up your pace, making your way to another door. Taking a deep breath, you reached out and twisted the handle, praying that the door wouldn't creak as you pulled it open. It didn't. Finally, a stroke of luck in this hell house. Entering another dark room, you tried to make sense of your surroundings. Stumbling into the leg of a table, you heard the door behind you slam shut, freezing you where you stood.

"Caught ya!" He yelled as he took you by surprise from behind again. This time, taking you into a tight choke hold, one hand pried your mouth open. You felt a quick, harsh kiss to your temple as he placed something bitter on your tongue and forced your mouth shut. "Swallow it." Not trusting him, or the pill dissolving on your tongue, your jaw tightened and tried to resist, but he was prepared. His large hand tightened its grip and began to move, forcing the pill to naturally move about in your mouth until it was threatening to fall back. "I'm not asking, Sweetheart. Swallow my fucking candy." He tightened his chokehold on you with a growl of annoyance and you whimpered, gasping for air, and feeling your body betray you. The pill fell back causing you to choke. Coughing, trying your hardest to resist it, but to no avail. Hanma pulled your hair back until you were looking up at him, his expression as smug as ever, "Finally. I know you know how to swallow better than that."

Releasing the grip on your hair, he wrapped his arm around you, trapping you in an almost hugging position now. "Bet you're wondering what that was, aren't you? Too bad I don't know!" His maniacal laughter filled the room, as he excitedly explained the situation you were now in. "See I never quite know what each day with you is going to bring. You send me on a different trip every time we're near and I don't think you even realize it. So now it's your turn. Fair is fair. I'm going to show you exactly what that feels like. I’m going to make you understand how much I love you. You’re going to get addicted to me, crave every second we’re together. You’re finally going to love me as much as I love you if it’s the last thing we do.”

Not missing the fatal threat laced in his words, a new fear began to set in. Hanma had no intention of ever letting you go. He would do anything to die together. “I mixed up a nice bag of candy just for you. Some I found randomly - here and unfortunately, there,” a shiver shook through his body as if he was grossed out by his own thoughts. “Others I bought just for this little game. A few I even made myself! So, Sweetheart, which one do you think you just swallowed? Hm?" Your body went rigid as the realization that you were nothing short of a guinea pig in Hanma's new game set in. "You look scared. That's no fun. Let's get your blood pumping!" With that, an arm abandoned its grasp on you and reached deep into his pocket, jingling around the contents before retreating with a flick of his wrist. The sound of the flick couldn't be mistaken. Hanma had pulled out the pocket knife he kept on himself at all times.

"Ah Ah, I wouldn't get squirmy if I were you," he warned and you felt the blade come up to your jaw, dancing along your skin as his lips did the same on your neck. The sensation from his kisses mixed with the fear of the blade threatening to break the skin had your mind fuzzy, handing complete control over to your seemingly once sane boyfriend. His lips continued to trail their way up and the blade pressed ever so harder, resulting in a hiss from you that did nothing more than spur on his antics. "Do you know what I have always thought would look good on you?"

Your eyes shifted down the best they could, trying to recall what you were even wearing when you were trapped inside this prison. He caught the action and laughed lightly to himself. "I'm not talking about these, (Y/n)," he said as he simultaneously reached down to cut open your shirt while biting onto your ear and giving a light tug. "No, I'm thinking something much hotter than this." The knife teased it’s way down your torso and twisted, almost knicking your stomach. "How hard do you think I'll get seeing 'H.S.' carved into your side? What do you say we find out?" He asked with no real intention of hearing your opinion on the matter.

The sting you felt as the knife broke the skin had you writhing trying to escape his grasp, but his hold on you only tightened. A harsh tone replaced his playful one as he reprimanded you.

"Stand still and let me enjoy this," he threatened. "Do you really want a trail of blood leading me right to you during our little game of hide and seek? Be a doll and take the pain for a minute." Holding your breath, you had no choice but to let him finish, wincing as he ran a thumb over his handy work. Bucking his hips into you and leaning his head back into the wall, he groaned. "So fucking hot. I want you to wear my name forever. Let it remind us that you belong to me, and only me." His arm that had been holding you in place came down to grip your hip, pulling you further into his hips. The knife was trailing its way down until you felt it trace your ass, "What do you say I give you some more?" The hand holding the knife quickly moved up and smacked his carved initials, causing a tinge of pain. "Run," he instructed, catching you by surprise as he unexpectedly released you, pushing you forward slightly. Confusion from his actions made you hesitate, but quickly run away when you sensed him leaning off of the wall behind you.

The rooms were a blur as you quickly made your way through door after door, hoping to gain some distance between the two of you. It was dark, and you were noisy, but if you could get far enough away, you thought maybe you could search for a good place to hide for the time being. After a few minutes, you made it to a room you couldn't recall from before. Hanma didn't seem to be anywhere near you yet so this seemed like a good point to focus on being quiet again. In the corner of the room, there was a door. Maybe a closet? Deciding to chance it with the discovery, you made your way over and quickly turned the handle, pulling it towards yourself without a second thought.

"Miss me?!" Hanma yelled out, hanging against the doorway from the other side. Immediately he reached out, putting a hand on your throat and bringing his lips to yours. His tongue forced its way in as you felt your back slam against the nearest wall. His kiss was aggressive as he used his tongue to deliver another pill into your mouth. This one felt different and had no taste. Your hands tried to push him off but his free arm came up and pinned one to the wall. Leaning into you harder and pressing his knee in between your legs, his tongue wrestled with yours forcing the pill to the back of your throat. His lips still to yours, his hand on your throat angled your head up until the pill was so far back you had no choice but to swallow. Feeling him smirk against your lips, he let go of you again, this time running off on his own, purposefully smacking something glass off a table as he passed. "Don't trip on that. Would hate to see you get all cut up before I get to you!"

Just as fast as he had appeared, he was gone, leaving you with no choice but to follow after him the way you had come. Somehow this was worse than him chasing you. The fear that you were walking yourself into a trap, instead of running to safety, was all too real. Pressing forward, the pile of broken glass caught your eye as you passed it, showcasing the last thing you would expect in this predicament. Carefully picking up a picture you would recognize anywhere, your mind began to race with thoughts of a better time, a sweeter Shuji. Desperate to get through to that side of him again, you clutched onto the picture and the memories behind it as you raced after him. In your heart you knew he loved you, and this picture you hoped would be just the tool needed to remind him too. But that was a fool's dream, as you would soon see.

Room after room there seemed to be no trace of him yet again. Stopping at another dead end you were tempted to sit and wait, the exhaustion from the chase taking a toll on you. The doubt you couldn’t shake wouldn’t let you though. The ‘what ifs’ ate away at you subconsciously. What if he really wasn’t the Shuji you had loved all this time? Looking down at the picture held firmly in your hand, you let yourself get lost in his smile. The smile, you thought, had always been genuine despite it being the first time the two of you had ever met. Anyone else probably would have ignored your request to pretend to be your boyfriend just to get you off the radar of a creep you had caught the attention of a few streets back. Not your Shuji though. Without missing a beat he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as if it was routine for the two of you, hugging you like you had been the only thought on his mind all day. The way he told you he missed was so convincing you swore you could have fallen for it yourself. It might have been your plan but he was the one running the show. When your brain halted from the stress, and surprise, of the situation playing out before you, he was ready to lead the way. No one questioned the speed at which he pulled out his cell phone, telling you his mom was harassing him about you not making it for dinner the night before and how he needed to show her a picture of the two of you together asap to assure her he didn’t mess up the best relationship he ever had. You felt your face flush as you remembered just how the butterflies in your stomach felt as you saw the two of you on the front facing camera of his phone. The heat of your cheeks rose remembering how your face showed every bit of how taken aback you were by how good he was at this - too good. Even he noticed it as he snapped a photo, quickly pulling away just enough to look at you, “Well that face won’t do. She’s going to think you really did break up with me.”

Something about the way he looked at you in that moment lit a fire within you, snapping you back to reality with a new confidence - a confidence that was as eager to please him as it was determined to lose the almost forgotten creep.

“Sorry, you’re right! I got a little nervous thinking about your parents seeing this. You know your mother loves to post our pictures everywhere.” He let out a little chuckle and gave you a knowing smile, impressed by the way you were able to bounce back fast from your horrible acting a moment prior. Holding up the camera in front of the two of you again, he posed for the camera while you made a slightly out of character decision to kiss him. It was innocent really, on the cheek, but the fact that he was a complete stranger paired with the compromising way you were wrapped close around his body made it feel like so much more. Without missing a beat you heard him snap the photo. The image it captured could have fooled anyone into thinking it bore witness to a smitten young couple, both parties completely enamored with one another. If the two of you really intended to send a photo for the reasons you claimed, this would have more than sufficed, but being swept up in the moment led you to a slew of photos, each one more natural than the previous. Before you knew it you had 14 different pictures and no real reason for them. The creep in tow seemed to have bought the act and was turned around, leaving the scene at a quick pace.

“This is cute and all doll, but I could take care of him for you.. for good. Just give me the green light,” he whispered into your ear as the two of you watched him retreat, taking care to make sure any nosey onlookers wouldn’t take notice of his offer, “and you will never have to worry about dealing with him again.”

The way his eyes seemed to burn holes in the back of the creep made you uneasy, causing you to feel almost guilty that you had made him a target of some sort. His hand tattooed with the kanji for “punishment” across is gripped tighter at the phone in its grasp and the weight of the meaning ate away at you. With a less confident demeanor about you, you gave out a shaky response and pushed out of his grasp, “Uh, no thank you. I don’t really support that kind of thing, even if he was a perve.”

“You don’t support that kind of thing?” he repeated back to himself, as if it was a question rather than a statement, “Oh! You thought..? Listen, I meant by making you mine. I was trying to ask you out on a date.” His other hand, you now noticed to be tattooed with the kanji for “sin”, came to the back of his neck and rubbed at it, letting out a laugh shy and contrary to the personality you had witnessed up until this point. “Thought it would be a lot easier to ‘fake date’ if we were really dating.”

If the woman you were now could travel back in time and warn you from then, maybe you wouldn’t be in this mess. What’s worse, you thought, was that you don’t think you would have been able to believe even yourself while looking at the man in the photo smiling back at you.

“Reminiscing on the old times without me?” his voice broke you out of your trance but not quick enough to evade his hold on you. Holding you tight from behind, he leaned over and rested his head against yours, peering down onto the photo. “God, you don’t know how much I love you. This was the start of it all. I swore from that moment on I would kill anyone that hurt you. Of course, I couldn’t tell you that.” his arms wrapped around you tighter and he snuggled into your neck as he spoke. An outsider looking in would have thought the two of you were sharing an intimate moment. Not even you guessed the sinister memories he was confessing to you. “The way you turned down my offer to take care of him told me all I needed to know. You, sweetheart, would never let me murder someone. So I did what any real man would and took care of the dirty work behind your back. The gruesome things we do for love sometimes.” His face contorted into a mix of rage and distaste for the memories he reminisced, but his seeming polar opposite personality disappeared as quickly as it surfaced. His signature flirty smile took over as he squinted his eyes and pressed a finger to your nose, ”Ew.”

The giggle he let out nauseated you as you really let his words sink in. There was not a shred of doubt in you that Hanma had killed that man from the day you met. You began to feel faint as questions ate away at you. Did he kill anyone else? Who? Worst of all, how could you not notice? Surely there had to be signs - red flags that a live-in significant other would never be able to miss - right? Was there anything you could have done if only you had noticed sooner?

“Oh don’t be like that,” he pleaded. Squeezing you into a tight hug again, he focused back on the photo, “If I would have been honest, you would have stopped me. I couldn’t do that after you had come to me crying out for help. I did it for your sake.” His thoughts seemed to linger as his voice trailed off for a moment, but not long enough. “You will see it my way soon enough. With enough of these,” he pulled out the bag of pills again and chucked a handful into his own mouth. You tried with all your might to pull away, thinking he was distracted, but his strong arms kept you locked in place. He wasn’t distracted one bit. Pulling open your mouth, the forceful stretch burning at the sides of your false smile, he leans over and spits the pills into your mouth. Your head is tilted back until enough saliva forces you to swallow or choke to death. Mentally you wanted to just choke, end it right here and now, but your body unfortunately still had some natural fight in it.

Just like that, he’s up and running again, maniacal laughs getting further and further out of ear shot. Scurrying to your feet you try to think of a new plan, and quick. A rational thought was hard to find by now in the sea of fear, adrenaline, and drugs. ”Think, think,” you internally pleaded to no avail.

That was when you noticed a light. Had it been there before? Was it flashing? Your vision had long been playing tricks on you from the exhaustion and what was assumed to be side-effects of whatever drugs he force fed you and now you weren’t sure what you were seeing. Real or not, you fixated on it. The light put you in a trance and you made your way straight for it. A corner of your conscience told you not to, but it was a lost cause. The next thing you knew, you were surrounded in the brightness of the next room, looking down at it - hope - in the form of a little black handgun laying on a chair. Everything about it screamed to you that it was a trap, but what other choice did you have? Picking it up without another thought you turned around to make your way back into the darkness.

This time through Hanma's lovesick torture maze, you had a new confidence about you. Trying to keep your guard up, you checked both directions as you entered each room, gun gripped tight in hand. It was quiet and the rooms were already thrashed from previous struggles so nothing seemed to be out of place to you. Your grip on reality was fading further and further the more you searched for your captive, determined to end this as fast as possible. The gun gave you one last plan of attack, but deep down you knew Hanma would always outsmart you.

And that he did.

"What do you have there?" He casually called out as he stepped out from a doorway to the left. The gun didn't seem to phase him in the slightest. He almost sounded cocky even.

"Shhhh, calm down," he coos as he kisses a tear running down your cheek. His free hand smoothed back against your hair, rubbing your head as he continued his attempts to calm you. "Calm down, calm down. Why are you getting so worked up, babe? It's not like I did this," he whispered and your eyes snapped open as you heard the click of the trigger. The next second seemed like a lifetime as you waited for everything to stop. It was bittersweet in a way that it never did. The relief you felt when you realized the gun might not be loaded began to trigger a laughter rumbling through your chest, almost too unreal to believe. As soon as it started Hanma's laugh rang out loud and he loosened his hold around you just a bit. "That's it, that's IT! You feel it now - the excitement you give me every day. THAT is what it feels like to be in love with you. Never knowing what's next," he spins you to face him and his hand is around your throat instantly pinning you to the nearest wall. "Never knowing if I might just," click the trigger sounds off against your jaw as he grins down upon your shaking form, "DIE from loving you."

Just like that, there it was again - that uncontrollable laugh encouraging him to continue toying with you. His grip on your throat tightened as he got excited and he kissed the barrel of the gun before placing his forehead against yours to look you right in your eyes. All your laughter ceased almost as fast as it started, replaced with intense cries as you felt yourself melting under his gaze. This was the look you once swore you needed to fall asleep to every night, that you needed so much you could dream of it, but this wasn't the same Hanma at all behind those eyes.

"Please, stop this."

#yandere hanma shuji #yandere Tokyo revengers #yandere Hanma x reader #yandere Tokyo revengers x reader #Tokyo revengers x reader #Hanma shuji x reader

[idontplaytrack]

Backfired

Capri Donahue x fem!reader(college/living together AU)

Warnings: accidental consumption of prescribed medication, smut- kissing, fingering(both receiving), spanking(reader receiving), use of pet names(both receiving), a bit of degradation(reader receiving). Reader discretion is advised.

In which Capri’s prank on reader backfires when reader accidentally grabs the wrong water bottle on her way out one morning

Requested? Yes / No

Capri’s curiosity was piqued a couple weeks ago when she passed by a rowdy group of guys saying a whole bunch of shit about their friend who couldn’t get it up. And how that guy used Viagra. That guy, was in one of her classes. Before Capri knew it, she was looking up facts about said medication to see how it works, but more so how and if it would work on women. And if it could work on women. After a week of scouring the internet, Capri went up to the guy to ask to buy one off him. Capri thought the money would keep him from saying anything- it did. Besides, it’s not like anyone knew Capri was dating someone.

While you were still sound asleep, Capri woke up early to work out- but also to put her plan into action. The guy told her this was a sublingual type, which she could dissolve in water. Though it wasn’t a sure-thing that it’d even work, Capri still decided to go for it, she drops half a pill into her water bottle after flavouring her water to help with the supposed bitterness. She screwed the bottle shut and gave it a bit of a shake, then Capri drank some of it before putting the bottle down. Awhile later, you were up to get ready for class. And before she knew it, you were ready to go. “Babe, I can’t find my bottle. Can I just take yours?”

She heard while she was on the toilet. Her eyes widened in shock as she scrambled outside to stop you but it was too late. You’d already drank the water. Typically of course, she wouldn’t mind if you used her water bottle. And you wouldn’t mind of she’d used use yours. But of course right now, it may pose you a bit of a problem if it worked on you. “Sure.” She tries to answer as calmly as possible. “Hey, how long’s your class again?”

“Three hours but we usually get to go early. I just have the one class today.” You told her.

“Okay.” Capri nodded, “I don’t have class today so I’ll be home catching up on some sleep.”

“Good for you.” You giggled, “See you in a few hours, babe.” Capri smiles, pressing a kiss to your cheek before you left.

Capri could only hope that you could get through your class, feeling the way she does right now, she felt bad she subjected you to the effects of the medication when she was the one supposed to be getting all of it, so that it would come in handy for after you got back from class. She didn’t hear anything from you for the full three hours so she assumed it went by alright. Until you came home and she saw you. “What the hell do you have in your water, Capri?”

Uh oh.

“I was supposed to be at the library for at least two hours after class to study. I couldn’t because I’m feeling like horny fucking bastard.”

“I didn’t expect you to already take a sip out of my bottle. I was supposed to be the one drinking all of that to prank you by hopefully being clingy.” She explained, “I’m sorry. You have every right to be mad at me. That was too much.”

“Actually, it’s about time I let myself relax.” You shushed her.

She arched a brow, squinting at you, “Are you saying-”

“Aren’t you?” You looked at her the same way.

“Alright, baby.” She motions for you to sit on her lap, and you complied. “Do you think I can make you come just with my hands, y/n?”

“I dunno, let’s try.” You shrug while cupping her face and kissing her softly. Capri practically attacks you with a rough kiss and invaded your mouth with her tongue. The intensity of it makes you moan already, since you have been feeling the effects of the water all morning. It wasn’t hard for you to make you feel like you needed a lot more, a lot faster. In fact, her kisses alone had you grinding on nothing as your ass sat on her lap.

Capri laughs, shifting you onto the couch as she instantly sat in a butterfly stretch pose. Holy fuck does she know how to make you feel like a touched-starve little slut. You saw the look in her eyes as she reached down the front of your shorts and started to stimulate your clit. She was very gentle, so as much as it felt good, it wasn’t nearly enough stimulation to make you get closer to your high. However, she was now having her legs wide open to give her own clit some attention while you watched. Seeing Capri biting her lip drove you nuts and you soon found yourself doing the same to take a bit of the edge off. “No, no, no.” She smacked your hand and you whined, “I’ll do that for you. So why don’t you do that for me instead?”

You nodded desperately, giving her a quick ‘okay’ while you reached for her. Her simple gesture had you whining unendingly as your body reacted to let you know you needed more than that. “My god, y/n. You’re so needy, you know that?” She laughs lowly, her hand smacks your cunt causing a yelp to erupt. Which…quickly turned into a cry. The ache you felt while your arousal skyrocketed was terrible- you needed Capri to stop it. To give you the relief your body has been begging for since early this morning. Your actions on her, matched hers for you. But seems to be more in control of herself than you were due to the amount of that specific water that she’d consumed.

“Hear that, love?” She grins, “You’re so wet, aren’t you? Take a look at yourself.” And so your eyes looked down at yourself, feeling more slick forming in that forsaken area. “Don’t stop, baby.” She looked at your fingers that were rubbing her clit as it swelled. You intentionally went harder for a second or two, drawing out a gasp from her mouth. Which sounded like she was teasing you to make her be more noisy, but either way, you picked up your pace and she begins to match up your speed. “Fuck, yeah. That feels so fucking good.” You pursed your lips together. Capri stops suddenly, and you smacked her cunt, displeased. An absolutely obscene moan flew out from her lips, making you smirk. “Who said you could stop.” You locked eyes with her, your actions slowing down. “Do you want me to stop too, Capri? Because…I sure can. And then I can make you watch me fuck myself while you can’t touch anywhere, at all.”

Capri bit onto her lower lit to stop herself from moaning, to not show you that she needed your touch as much as you needed hers. But, she kept teasing your folds, which allowed you find her answer to your demand. “Good girl.” You flashed a smug smile, bucking against her hand. That movement of yours made her moan, like actually- she’d nodded in approval asking you to keep doing that. Well, you did. Anything to get the two of you over the edge at this point. By basically riding her hand, her fingers were pushed way deeper into you and you were having a fucking good time hearing her whining and also the stimulation you were getting. Shockingly, right as you pulled your finger out of her, Capri unravels. She unravels first, whining your name repeatedly. You kept pushing your finger in and pulling it out though, to see just how much she could take before becoming an overstimulated, squirming mess right in front your eyes. When it became harder and harder for her to keep her fingers on your cunt, you take it as your cue to stop while she continues to bring you closer to the edge. Your clit was throbbing, and you beg her for more. “Capri, oh fuck, oh my God- please I-”

“Please, what, honey?” She licked her lips, looking at you up and down, “Use your words.”

“Please…” Tears brim at yours eyes, feeling yourself growing wetter and wetter. “Please, Capri I need your fingers inside me. Please…?”

“That’s my girl.” She got up, kneeling now so she could kiss you while her busy hand stayed working. She dips a finger into you and you gasped, “Fuck. Oh, God. That feels so good, Capri.”

“Does it, baby? That feels good?” She practically spoke into the never ending kiss, as her action became rougher and every time her finger poked your g-spot, a whine would fall from your lips without fail. “You close, princess?” She asks as you feel her finger retreating. You nodded eagerly, bucking your hips so her finger would return to its spot. “Woah, you’re feeling a little bit too eager today, aren’t you?” She teases, biting onto her lower lip yet again.

“All thanks to you.” You rolled your eyes.

“Fine, fuck yourself with my hand then.” She arched a brow, her eyes darkened along with her attitude.

“Fuck. That’s not what I-”

“Say that again?” She held onto your face by the chin, “What’d you mean then? Tell me, or are you just gonna be a needy, angry little slut?”

You shook your head at her last few words, “I already had a fucking bad day, Capri. Please, please- make me come. I need it.”

Giving you a little shrug, her fingers enter you in a pair. “You should’ve just told me that, sweet girl. Now I’ve made you sad.” Capri kisses the crook of your neck, then biting and sucking to leave some marks which drew blood. You seethed, she soothed the areas with her tongue. Then, she trails back down to lap at your cunt, to make you come. She’s decided to give you a little treat after only making use of her hands. With your head thrown back, you felt your climax approach at a steady pace. “Why are you-?” You panted.

“Shh.” She shushed you, “Just let go, babe. It’s okay, I know what I said, but I just wanted to do a little something to make it up to you.” She vigorously rubbed your clit, causing to nearly scream as you reached your peak. You nearly fell onto your back but she caught you. “Shit, shit, shit.” You cursed, “We did not lay a towel-” She didn’t care, simply attacking your lips once again, wanting to hear you cry for her as you continued to ride out your orgasm.

“Oh, that’s so hot, baby.”

“I- oh, god. Okay, okay. That’s enough for today, yeah.” You managed to say, laying down completely now.

“Okay.” Capri presses a kiss to your cheek, “Okay, honey. You’re alright, you’re alright.”

#auli’i cravalho #darby and the dead #capri donahue #fanfiction #wlw fanfic #wlw post #smut #prank #lgbtqia #queer #reader insert #x reader #female reader

[blueicequeen19]

Funhouse

Warnings: DUB-CON, drugging, loss of virginity, virginity kink, all the triggers

“Rafe—please—.” His hand tightens on my throat as he pins me against the outside of the abandoned funhouse.

“Save your begging for when my cock is inside you.” Rafe growls, eyes red and skin glistening with sweat.

“J-just give me some time. I’m not ready, Rafe.”

“You’re lying. You’d spread your legs for Maybank in a heartbeat.” My heart skipped a beat at the mention of JJ’s name.

“I know something that’ll make you want me.” Rafe licks his lips and pulls a baggy from his pocket.

“This is a little something special. Your senses will all be heightened and you’ll feel really good. You’ll be dying for me to fuck you.”

“Rafe! No!” He shoves the pill in my mouth and clamps my mouth shut with his hand. I couldn’t spit it out even if I wanted to. It dissolves on my tongue too fast, leaving a bitter taste behind. My heart was beating so hard it felt like I was having a panic attack.

“Now, if you can make it through the funhouse without getting caught, I’ll let you go. But if not, you’re mine. I don’t care if I have to fuck you on the cold, hard ground. I will. I catch you, I fuck you. Now run.”

My eyes fall closed as a feeling of calm washes over me and my skin starts to buzz. Why am I not panicking? Rafe has wanted my virginity for as long as I can remember and he’s not going to stop. I was his prize. My teeth and tongue feel weird as I try to swallow my own saliva. When I open my eyes again, Rafe is gone.

I wet my numb lips and turn to face the funhouse. It was terrifying. The opening was the mouth of a gruesome looking clown. I remember the mouth used to spin. It would make you so dizzy you’d fall down before even getting inside. I couldn’t imagine trying to maneuver that on my unsteady legs as I move up the steps. The old metal creaks under every step I take as I climb through the mouth and into the dark. Plastic panels hang from floor to ceiling, making you walk through a maze.

“You know, once that stuff really kicks in, it’ll be you searching me out.” I gasp at the sound of Rafe’s voice. It sounds like he’s right behind me but there’s no one there when I spin around.

There’s a pulse in my clit and every step was painful. My body was slowly being consumed by a fire. My nipples were so hard they practically poked through my tiny costume. The adrenaline and the fear mixed with the drugs was driving me insane.

I keep walking, careful not to touch the plastic so he doesn’t find my location. Suddenly, something smacks against the plastic beside me and I scream, taking off into a run. More smacks land against the plastic behind me as I run. A set of stairs catch my attention off to my right but I know they won’t lead to an exit. So I go left.

I spot the outline of a door in the dark but at the last second, I duck into a prop door for the funhouse for actors to jump out and scare people. It’s only big enough for one, maybe two people. I suck in a breath and hold it as I hear Rafe’s footsteps get closer. Then they stop.

“Come out, come out, little slut.” Rafe’s voice taunts. I put my hand over my mouth as my heart races. It was so hot, I suddenly wanted to take my costume off.

“Does your pussy hurt? I could take care of it for you.” Rafe calls. I hear more smacks against the plastic like he’s retracing his steps. I press my other hand over my mound, pressing my palm against my pulsing clit. I almost moan. It was starting to hurt more and tears were forming in my eyes.

“I bet you’re nice and wet for me. Your pussy practically begging to be filled.” I unbutton my bodysuit at the crotch, the fabric soaked. I push past my fishnets and thong, pressing hard against my clit. A soft whimper leaves my lips. I needed a release. I was going to die.

“I’m not sure which of your holes I want to fuck first.” I squeeze my eyes shut as I sink two fingers inside myself. My orgasm was close. So close. I’m panting, rocking into my fingers as the pressure builds rapidly. I could feel my wetness running down my legs. My hand was soaked. My toes started to curl in my boots and my eyes started to roll back.

“Gotcha!” The door suddenly flies open and Rafe yanks my hand away. I scream as he grabs me by my throat and yanks me out of my hiding spot.

“I don’t think so, little slut. The only relief you’ll get will be from me.” Rafe snarls, shoving my front to the wall and binding my wrists together with cuffs.

“Rafe. Please.” I beg, chanting it over and over again as my legs threaten to give out. He turns me back around and rips my fishnets as he drops to his knees.

“Poor baby. Look how desperate this cunt is.” His tongue finds my clit and I buck against his face, crying out as he licks me lazily.

I didn’t think it could get any worse but now I think I really will combust. The teasing is too much. I feel his tongue circle my clit slowly then move down to lap at my entrance then back.

Over and over again.

Keeping me right on the edge. Tears fall freely as he lifts my legs over his shoulders to continue his feast. My hands hurt from being crushed behind me and my head rests against the wall as I sob. I just wanted to cum.

“Please, Rafe, please. Let me cum. Please.” My body tenses again just for him to slow and deny me again.

“Tell me you want me to be your first.” Rafe sucks my clit into his mouth and sparks shoot through my body, my back arching as I cry out.

“Rafe!” I’m borderline screaming now as he slows again. I scream his name again and he chuckles, teasing my hole with his tongue.

“Tell me. Tell me and it’s yours.” Rafe rasps. My restraint dissolves and I find myself nodding.

“Fuck me, Rafe. Please.” I whisper in defeat, my body trembling with need. Rafe sits me down immediately and stands, turning me so I’m facing the wall. I don’t get to see his cock before it’s pushing inside me, splitting me in two.

It’s too big. Bigger than I ever thought possible. Who would enjoy this? Even with how wet I am, he still has to work his way in. We’re both moaning and groaning by the time he’s full seated, stretching me too much.

“Rafe, it’s too big.” I whimper, biting my bottom lip hard. He chuckles.

“Fuck, this pussy.” Rafe’s hold on my waist becomes painful as he slides in and out slowly. I’m right there. I can feel it. If I could touch my clit, I would cum. My cheek rests against the dirty steel wall as he fights pants hard. Then he starts fucking me.

The orgasm hits me so hard my knees would give out if not for the hold he has on me. The sounds leaving my mouth would make a pornstar blush but I can’t help it. Words like:

Don’t stop.

Harder.

Fly out of my mouth. I can’t stop cumming. My body won’t stop shaking and the wave of euphoria doesn’t fade. I feel like I’m floating and I’m tingling everywhere. Rafe yanks me against his chest, smashing my hands between us as he drives up into me. His hand tight on my throat as his mouth finds my ear.

“Beg me to pull out.” Rafe growls, fucking me harder than I thought possible. My whole body hurt but the need to cum again was too strong. But I wasn’t on anything and I never even thought about a condom.

“P-please, pull out. You have to pull out, Rafe.” I whimper. A moment later he’s shoving me to my knees. I’m too delirious to realize what’s going on when something warm hits my face. I blink as he jerks himself hard and his cum coats my face. I taste it on my lips. Rafe groans loudly as he drops his head back, giving himself one last pull before he stops.

I fall back on my ass, thoroughly fucked and in need of a shower. And coming down hard.

I don’t realize I’ve blacked out until my eyes flutter open and I’m being carried, my arms no longer pinned behind my back. My eyes can’t focus on anything. Nothing looks familiar.

My eyes open again and my wrist is being cuffed to something. I try to stay awake as I lock eyes with Rafe but he smiles, caressing my face. His smile is even more sinister when it’s not dark. I try to speak but I can’t. My tongue is so heavy.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m going to take good care of you, Mrs Cameron.”

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #tw dubious consent #dark!rafe cameron #tw drugs #dark!fic #tw dark content

[comfortjoonie]

MOONCHILD: THE JOURNEY CHAPTER TWO

ok so i've officially decided to make Namjoon's pregnancy a series! here's chapter one: chapter one

I hope you guys enjoy!!

TW: Pregnancy, hospitals, emeto

The whole car ride, Namjoon is silent and far too pale.  He’s holding his stomach with his head resting against the window.  Yoongi’s hand is on his shoulder, telling him how much longer it’ll be until they’re at the hospital every few minutes.  When they pull up in the parking lot, Yoongi has to help his husband out of the car and into the waiting room where he sits down.  Yoongi checks him in, and only five minutes later they’re given a private room and told the doctor will be in shortly.

Namjoon looks exhausted in his hospital bed.  The fatigue is no joke during his first trimester, and all the vomiting makes it worse.

A male doctor walks in with a bright smile at the two of them.  “What brings you here today?” he asks.

“It’s my husband,” Yoongi says.  “He’s nine weeks pregnant now and he’s just been vomiting every day.”

“Alright.  So morning sickness is pretty typical for pregnancy,” the doctor says.

“He’s been sick all day, every day,” Yoongi says.  “It’s more than just morning sickness.”

“Namjoon, how bad would you say the nausea is when you’re not vomiting?” the doctor asks.

“Bad,” Namjoon says.

“He’s been losing a lot of weight.  He hasn’t been able to work out at all,” Yoongi says.

“It sounds like hyperemesis to me.  I can give you some medication and if you’d like, we can keep him here today for IV fluids.  But I believe that the medication will bring him enough comfort to drink and eat.  Besides that, I’d just try to wait the sickness out until the second trimester starts.”  The doctor smiles.  “Would you like to stay and have fluids today?”

Namjoon shakes his head before Yoongi can say anything.  “No, thank you.  I’d like to go home.”

“Great.  I’ll get some medicine from the pharmacy, then.”  The doctor leaves, and Namjoon sighs.

“Namjoonie, why would you refuse?”

“Hyung, I hate hospitals.  I don’t want to stay here any longer.  The medicine should help, anyways, right?”  Namjoon asks.

“I…yes, Joonie, but I’m still worried about you.  I know I wasn’t born with the ability to carry and I don’t know much about pregnancy, but this really doesn’t seem normal to me.”

“It’ll all work out in the end, hyung,” Namjoon says, but he doesn’t sound so sure.  The doctor returns with two boxes of medicine.

“I’ll give you one of these now.  Just take one whenever you start to feel like you might be sick.  Put it under your tongue and let it dissolve.”  Namjoon sighs in relief.  He’s been terrible at swallowing pills this pregnancy.  It makes him so much more nauseous.  A tablet like this is much better.  “Now, I don’t recommend taking these first thing in the morning.  They probably won’t be able to stop morning sickness, but later in the day, like after lunch, you can start taking them,” the doctor instructs.

“Thank you,” Yoongi says, grabbing the boxes bowing to him.

“No problem.  If this continues, talk to your regular doctor and see what she can do to help.  You’re free to go home now.”

—-------

When Namjoon and Yoongi arrive at the dorms, the others are waiting by the front door for them.  Namjoon brushes past them and goes to his room.  He still feels nauseous, but not like he’s going to throw up instantly.

“What happened, hyung?” Hoseok asks while Yoongi sets down his stuff.  Yoongi said he wouldn’t tell the others, but he’s having a hard time lying to them.

“We went to the hospital.  Joon hasn’t been able to keep barely anything down these past couple of days.”

“Oh, no.  Poor Joonie,” Jimin says softly.

“The doctor gave us some medicine, but I’m not sure it’ll work.  I think for today I’ll just let him rest.  What time is the photoshoot tomorrow?”

“10 AM,” Jin says.  “Do you think he can make it?”

“I’ll talk to him in the morning,” Yoongi says.  “He’ll probably want to push through, but I’m not sure that it’s what’s best.  His hiatus is announced tomorrow, so it’s not that big of a deal if he misses the photoshoot.”

“We don’t want to leave him here all by himself, though, do we?” Jin asks, and Yoongi sighs.

“I don’t know.  I mean, the fans don’t know anything yet.  They don’t even know Namjoon and I are married.  They didn’t even know we started dating five years ago.  So it’s not like I can stay back with him.  They’d get suspicious if two of us were missing again.”  Yoongi sighs.  “We’ll just take this one step at a time.  For now, we should have lunch.”

All the members nod and resume whatever they were doing before they realized Namjoon and Yoongi were gone – Jungkook and Taehyung playing a video game, Jin cooking lunch, and Hoseok and Jimin reading books on the chairs.

Yoongi goes to his and Namjoon’s room to check on the younger.  Namjoon is curled up on his side of the bed, looking way better than before but still a little pale.

“How are you feeling, Joonie?” Yoongi asks.

“A little better,” Namjoon responds.  Yoongi gives Namjoon a kiss on the forehead.

“You look better than before, honey.  Your face isn’t so pale.”  Namjoon nods a little.

“I still feel a little nauseous.  Just not like I’m going to throw up anymore.”

“That’s better.  Seokjin-hyung is making lunch for us.  He’s almost done.  Are you gonna come out or do you want me to bring the food in here for you?”

“I’ll come out.  I don’t want anyone to be worried,” Namjoon says.

“Do you need help standing up?” Yoongi asks.

Namjoon stands up by himself in response.  Together, the two of them walk back to the dining room, where Seokjin is putting out the bowls of soup.  Namjoon’s nose wrinkles at the smell.

He sits down and takes a bite.  As always, Seokjin’s cooking is delicious.  “Thank you, hyung,” he says, and Seokjin smiles back at him.

A conversation starts between the six members that aren’t Namjoon, and he listens attentively as he eats his soup more.  He hadn’t realized how hungry he was, and he eats it all too fast before it starts to hurt his stomach.  It cramps, and he hisses and grimaces.  “Hyung?” Jungkook asks.  “Everything okay?”

“It’s fine – my stomach is just bothering me,” he responds, putting a hand over the small bump.

“Do you need to throw up?” Seokjin asks.  He’s seen plenty of Namjoon being sick these past weeks, and he’s ready to take the younger to the bathroom at any time necessary.

“No.  It’s fine.”

“We heard you had to go to the hospital, Joonie.  Are you feeling a little better now?” Hoseok asks.  Yoongi curses under his breath.  He’d forgotten to tell the others not to tell Namjoon they knew about the hospital.

“You told them?” Namjoon asks his husband, betrayal in his eyes.

“I…had to, Joonie.  I wasn’t going to lie to them.”

“I hate you!” Namjoon shouts, getting up and leaving the table.  Yoongi sighs.  He knows Namjoon doesn’t mean it.  It’s just the hormones.  But he still hates making his husband feel upset.

Namjoon already has tears in his eyes as he’s running back to the bedroom, but he doesn’t pay attention to the clothes that Jungkook left on the ground in the hallway.  Before he can get around them, he slips, twisting his ankle harshly.  He hears a loud cracking sound and cries out in pain, silently wishing for Yoongi to come help him up.  He already feels terrible for lashing out.  The pain shoots up his leg.  It’s worse than the last time he sprained his ankle.  He pulls up his pant leg and nearly vomits at the sight.  His ankle is twisted to the side and already swelling up.  He wants Yoongi.  The pain is just getting worse by the second.  He can’t walk all the way back down the stairs and to the dining room now.  Then he realizes Yoongi probably doesn’t even want to talk to him right now.  He drags himself to their bedroom and is able to get on the bed through the pain.

Yoongi feels awful.  He knows he shouldn’t have said anything.  But he couldn’t lie to his members.  Not even for Namjoon.  He needs to go check on him.

“I’m gonna go check on Namjoonie,” Yoongi says, standing up.  He walks up the stairs and avoids Jungkook’s clothes on the ground.  The door to their bedroom is wide open and he can instantly tell something is wrong.  Namjoon is lying on the bed, breathing heavily.  He’s in pain.  “Joon?” Yoongi asks softly.

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon cries.  “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok, Joonie.  I know it’s just the hormones.  What’s wrong?”  Namjoon points down to his left ankle.  Yoongi gasps.  “Joonie, we need to go to the hospital.”  Namjoon’s ankle is misshapen, swollen, and bruised.  Namjoon shakes his head.

Jungkook appears in the doorway.  “I heard Namjoon crying.  What’s wrong?” he asks, then sees Namjoon’s ankle.  “Oh, crap.  Hyung, we need to get him to the hospital,” he says.

“Can you carry him?”

“On my back?  I don’t want to press against his stomach too much.  I don’t want to hurt the baby,” Jungkook says.

“It’ll be fine,” Yoongi says.  Jungkook comes over to the bed and stands in front of it, Yoongi lifting Namjoon onto the maknae’s back.

“I’m going to go slowly, hyung,” Jungkook says, holding Namjoon’s legs.  He walks down the stairs as carefully as possible, Yoongi following him.  They pass through the dining room, and Seokjin stands up.

“What’s going on?”

“He broke his ankle,” Yoongi says. “We’re going to the emergency room.”

“I’ll come,” Seokjin says, starting to follow them.

“Let me come, too,” Jimin says.

“Sorry, Jiminie.  Only three visitors at a time are allowed.

With that, the four leave and go to Jungkook’s car.  Yoongi and Namjoon sit in the back, Namjoon resting his foot on the older’s lap.  Jungkook speeds through several red lights to get to the hospital.  Every bump jolts Namjoon’s ankle and sends a sharp pain through it.  As soon as they pull up, Seokjin runs into the ER and comes back with a wheelchair and a nurse, who helps Namjoon into it.

Namjoon tries not to pass out from the pain as they wheel him into a room and lift him onto the bed.  Getting into the X-ray machine is hard on Namjoon.  But he does it.  When they get back into the room, he feels badly nauseous again.

“Hyung…” Namjoon says.

“What?” Yoongi and Seokjin say in unison.

“I need a bag…” Yoongi quickly grabs an emesis bag and hands it to Namjoon, who starts throwing up harshly.  Yoongi rubs his back.

“It’s okay, Joonie.  You’re okay,” he says comfortingly.  “You’re gonna be ok.”  Namjoon hands the bag to Yoongi when he’s done, who ties it off and brings it out to throw it away.  When he comes back in, the female doctor is already there.

“Namjoon has a very seriously broken ankle.”  Yoongi presses his lips together.  “When was the last time he ate?”

“Just 30 minutes ago.  But he just threw up.”

“And he’s how far along?”

“Nine weeks.”

“I hate to inform you of this, but if Namjoon wants to dance again…”

Yoongi’s heart pounds.

“He needs surgery.”

#sick!namjoon #sickfic #bts #caretaker!seokjin #caretaker!yoongi #caretaker!jungkook #btssickfic #kpop sickfic #mpreg #pregnant!namjoon #bts angst

[forthedancingandthethriving]

Mia: Who hurt you?

Tulip, giggling wryly: What, do you want a list?

Mia: ...Yes, actually.

----

Lil Coding: Hey.

Lil Coding: Everyone's bones are wet.

Boopkins: Why would you say that?

Lil Coding: No one said hi back.

----

Arle: What if a cast a silly spell?

Shantae: 6 dead 21 injured.

Arle: Sorry.

Tulip: Not silly enough. Do it again.

----

Mario: Just lie down on the sidewalk with your tongue against the concrete till the whole world dissolves like an uncoated pill.

Luigi: I want to know if you were okay when you were thinking that..

Mario: One day you'll be face to face with whatever saw fit to let you exist in the universe and you'll have to justify the space you've filled.

Luigi: What.

----

SMG4: Where are the kids?

Plurality: Oh, they went out with the others.

SMG4: But they’re grounded!

Plurality, genuinely confused: Are they not allowed out when grounded?

----

Juliano: I made coffee with an energy drink instead of water.

Mario: And how do you feel?

Juliano: My heart stopped beating two hours ago.

----

SMG4: Okay, new rule. No more animals in the castle.

Lily: Wow, you’re really gonna throw LC out like that?

Lil Coding: *whacks her on the head*

----

Bob: Whoops..

Meggy: Whoops? WHOOPS? “Whoops” is a thing of the past, a small speck in the windshield. We are crossing into “oh fuck” territory and I expect you to act like it.

----

SMG3: I keep a picture of the everyone in my wallet. Whenever things get tough, I take it out and stare at the picture.

SMG4: Aww!

SMG3: And I tell myself "If I can deal with these idiots, then I can deal with anything."

SMG4: Oh.

----

Vitality: Reminder; I’m not a doctor, I'm a medic.

CPU: What’s the difference then?

Vitality: Doctors actually save lives. Medics just make you feel more comfortable as you die.

Umbra: Note to self; never get hurt again.

----

Abyssal: Do I even weigh anything to you?

Antivirus, holding her by the back of her cloak with one hand: NO. IT'S LIKE HOLDING A COUPLE OF GRAPES.

----

Meggy: Bob is no longer allowed to take out the trash. You know why? Because I’ve caught him trying to train the raccoons to fight.

Bob: You’ll be grateful when my raccoon army saves your life.

----

Lil Coding: Hey, do you want to see a butterfly?

Root: Sure!

Cody: NO-

Lil Coding: *chucks a stick of butter across the kitchen*

Lily: MAJESTIC.

#oc: mia #avatar: tulip #code: lil coding #fishy boopkins #arle nadja #shantae #smg4 mario #smg4 luigi #smg4 #code: plurality #avatar: juliano #oc: lily #bob bobowski #meggy spletzer #smg3 #virus: root #oc: cody #incorrect quotes

[obsessedwithegos]

👀 Forced to watch and/or 💊 Drugged with Swap AU Tael (i love girlboss Emil)

CWs: Mouth whump, Whumpee forced to watch their own harm, Drugging, Creepy/Touchy whumper, Strangulation, Enhanced pain, Burning

The forced to watch isn’t used much in this, but it’s there!!! :D and the drug is a pain enhancing one! ~~~~

“What’s that for?” Tael asked, glaring as he watched the priest set the mirror up directly in front of him.

“It’s so you can see yourself. Is that not what mirrors are for?” Emil asked

“You said the preparation was finished for today.”

“Correct! The preparation is! This is just for my own fun.” She chimed. “What’s wrong, are you tired? It sounds like you’re losing your fight, demon.”

“Fuck you.” He snapped

“There it is.” She hums, walking closer to him. “Open your mouth.” 

He holds his mouth shut, not breaking his glare.

She kneels down, cupping his jaw in her hand before jamming a thumb into his mouth and right into a spot where a tooth once was. She then digs her thumb into the gum, just enough to force him to open his mouth. 

His attempts to try to pull out of her grip were unsuccessful, and soon he felt her jam her fingers into his mouth and under his tongue.

“Relax, I’ll take my fingers out once it dissolves. I would let go of your jaw but then you’d just bite me. Would you?” She asked, earning an angry snort in reply.

She hums as she looks him over. “You know.. You sort of looked like a hooked fish right now. Your helplessness is almost endearing.” 

The sounds he let out she could also assume was another curse directed towards her.

When the pill started to dissolve, his face visibly cringed and he started to try to pull away again as if trying to get away from the taste instead of getting out of the grip.

But as it continued to dissolve, slowly it’d become just a bit harder to move, not by a significant amount but just enough that he’d struggle with sudden and quick reactions. 

As promised, once the pill was at least mostly dissolved, Emil pulled her fingers out of his mouth. “There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Tael gathered some spit in his mouth to spit out any remnants of the pills while she walked off to grab something. 

Soon she walked over behind him and looked at the mirror to make sure he was properly lined up in it. “Tell me, what do you see in the mirror?” 

“Not you.” He answered, trying to figure out a way to annoy her by not directly answering.

“Good.” She grinned, securing a rosary in her hands and leaving some slack in the middle. 

All Tael saw was the rosary suddenly go over his head and wrap around his neck before it was yanked back.

Pain suddenly flares out from his throat, burning and pressure from the burns caused by the religious item. The pain was so so much worse than it had been any other time, causing him to attempt to struggle, to try to kick his legs out which caused the rope to yank on his already damaged tail. 

The mirror in front of him displayed all of his writhing, as his back arches and he tries to toss himself in a struggle to try to break the rosary so he could breath. He could see tears building in his eyes and the burns worsening and the rosary burying into his neck.

But despite all of his moving, he couldn’t move fast or strong enough to break or damage any of his restraints. Emil carefully moves the rosary to tie it around the demon’s neck so it can continue to strangle and burn him as she goes to get something else. “I quite like this, I might use that more often just to see you squirm.” 

Though Tael’s desperate gasps for air would prevent him from hearing her words and her warning.

[Emoji prompts]

~~~~~~~~~

general: @emmettnet @blackberry-bloody

Emil: @pikanyachu

#more below the cut! :3 #I planned to do more but head empy #owe answers #prompted writing tag #ask game #whump ask game #emil tag #tael tag #unholy swap au #vampire whumper #demon whumpee #forced to watch #drugging #strangulation #burning #ask to tag

[whoslaurapalmer]

ooooooo it's time for a lulu makes her way through therapy update 🪅

- yesterday was psychiatrist day and my brother had to drive me which was very thrilling for all involved, because the psychiatrist was initially my brother's and has known my brother since he was a teenager and saw us both in the waiting room and got so excited and went '!!!!!! is this a switch?? am I seeing both of you??? Or are you here just for the purposes of transportation' and I said HE'S JUST TRANSPORTATION TODAY

- what's nice about him is that even if he was the one who prescribed the prozac he doesn't push me on it at ALL. EVERYONE keeps saying 'why wont you take it?' and He's like, 'no lulu, you don't have to. It's okay if it's just there. Quite frankly. I don't know if you need it right now?' Which was very nice!! because I've been doing very well lately!!!!! not super focused if at all on my breathing or anxiety or panic!!!!!! And it's nice to hear SOMEONE ELSE say 'you sound like you're doing really good!!' but also acknowledge that that doesn't mean the end of talking to people about my problems or not trying to do different things!!

- it's so fucking stupid every damn time when most of my problems are in fact solved by drinking more water. that's what I really focused on this month. And trying to eat a good amount. And trying to be more like. It sounds so STUPID to say mindful but that's what it is!! When I start to panic I started saying hello to everything in the room. and myself more frequently in mirrors. I get so stuck in my head and can't get out of it and give anxiety and panic so much weight that trying to refocus outside of me helped a lot. I also started a gratitude app and I do it twice a day and that's nice too!!!! For really appreciating little things about my town and my house and the things I interact with and the people I know. It's helpful to make myself notice more about where I always am and that's not bad.

- BUT MEANWHILE so I told him, I am trying to placebo effect myself.

- my psychiatrist: ..........explain 🤔

- so I wanted to take SOMETHING for my anxiety. But I cannot do side effects. But I figured, the brain can be tricked and rerouted, right?? because it's silly like that!!! so I just have to reroute it a specific way!! And I can PRETEND I'm taking something for anxiety!! so I was looking for something that like. Idk, would 1) look like a pill 2) be something that I could take like a pill but also WHENEVER, whenever I was anxious too. I tried to do it with like things I already take, like sinus stuff and vitamins, but I might switch sinus meds again depending on how this month's ENT goes, and I figured it'd be better to have something that I registered as SPECIFICALLY for anxiety, and not multiple things.

- I picked altoids!!!!! I really wanted a mint bc mint is distracting on its own being so potent. I let them dissolve under my tongue for maximum vibes and so the mint experience lasts as long as possible. I have one in the morning and one in the afternoon at vaguely the same time and started out thinking each time 'I'm taking this to help with my anxiety' and within a few weeks my brain morphed it into 'don't forget to take your anxiety medication :) ' which we both found FASCINATING.

-I don't know if it IS helping??? Especially bc at the same time i DID up the eating and water. But it is a Thing!!!! and I like it a lot!!!!!! So maybe it is helping too!!!!!!

- my psychiatrist: we should tell altoids. they're missing out on a marketing angle. anyway this is very exciting! The placebo effect is so intriguing.

#anyway. try some altoids.

[sunnydaze03]

4/3/24- week one

i totally neglected updating this when i should’ve, but this first week has been breathtaking. i’ll get to the point- this is the absolute best decision i’ve ever made. for the past week, i’ve lived in this unwavering sensation of shock and awe. i got an email saying my package had delivered, and i sprinted to the mailbox, and i picked it up and it was tangible. like, physically there. my heart started pounding and i ran back to my room and cut open each box, and my hormones were there. and there i went, panic texting my friends because this is *fucking* real now and i can’t even process it. i waited about 10 minutes to take it all in before i put the first pill underneath my tongue and let it dissolve for the first time. and with that, it began. now, i do want to list off the things i’ve noticed physically, emotionally, and mentally because things have certainly changed, but please keep in mind i am only a week in on a relatively low dose; everything has been quite minor.

physically, i don’t feel too different, but i notice my body changing minutely. my skin is definitely softer than it was a few days ago, and my acne seems to have calmed down. the downside of that is how dry my skin seems to get now, and i feel itchy if i haven’t moisturized. i feel like my eyes appear brighter, but that has more to do with feeling a bit happier than before. besides that, my nipples seem slightly darker and it definitely feels like there’s some fat behind them that wasn’t there. it isn’t significant!! i can just tell something is happening. they hurt just the tiniest amount, but you can tell something is off.

emotionally! wow, this one is the biggest, i think. the night that i started hormones, my mind was just so quiet for what felt like the first time since i was a kid- or even just ever. it’s indescribable, and that is the best thing i could’ve asked for. it’s hard to say whether that came from me being on hormones for literally 8 hours or the relief of finally starting my transition. regardless, it was just bliss. i was giddy the next day. colors look brighter, problem-solving is easier, i feel alive and it’s a pleasure to exist inside my mind, generally speaking. now, i haven’t felt any uncontrollable emotions yet, though i can still get quite angry if i let myself, which i was hoping would not be the case. june lore, though- i perform music in our local circuit (vague on purpose!!), and i was really struggling to pull out the emotions from our show, but the first time i performed it for a crowd since starting hrt, i almost cried, and it felt amazing. i haven’t felt it since, though, and i wish i have, but i’m confident it’ll come back. emotions are one of those things that unfold at a different pace for everyone on hrt, and i won’t worry about it. all in all, it’s like this sparkly pink filter is constantly overlaying my life. it’s bliss.

finally, mentally. i’ve made a few revelations while being on hormones. the biggest is what i already figured would be the case: many of my problems regarding myself have improved significantly, partially because of the emotional aspect of hrt, and partially because i know i’m no longer fighting against testosterone further developing the things i couldn’t stand against myself. but my external problems haven’t gone. they feel so much easier to face, but they’re still there, and those problems are up to me to fix. i feel less prone to giving up, within the parameters of what hrt will allow. i have noticed that my depression isn’t just gone. it’s so much better, but it’s still there. i still know i can give up if ever i chose to, but now i feel even more obligated to hold on. it’s weird, last night was something of a dark one, but never did my mind stray too far- it’s weird.

i guess to conclude, the only thing i really have to add is that hrt is lifesaving. i’m not even sure i’d be here to type this right now without it’s intervention. i decided this myself, and i made it happen myself. i know now since i made it this far that i can’t stop moving. this is my life now, and no person or government on the planet can *ever* make me give it up.

#transfem #transgender #hrt

[bloatedandalone04]

Wrapped Around Your Finger - Part 0.8

Series Masterlist | Original Fic

➪in which anakin spirals more and more and you debate on whether or not you’re truly happy with where your life is going.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 3.9k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

The flashing lights made Anakin’s head spin as he gripped the glass tightly in his hand. 

He had no idea how much he had to drink tonight, but he knew it was well past his limit. Still, the more he drank the more free he felt. 

Gone was the stress of not being able to write, gone was the constant ache he felt whenever he thought of you, gone were his worries. 

He guessed he had Liz to thank for that since she had found this bar that looked a lot more like a club. She had heard of this place in Warsaw that was apparently pretty popular, and that turned out to be very true since Anakin could barely move with all the people around him. 

He also had no idea what they were saying as they chatted and sang amongst themselves, and clearly Liz didn’t either as she shook her head at a guy who offered her something in a plastic bag. “I have no idea what you’re saying,” she yelled over the music as she took a small pill from him, making Anakin raise a brow in concern. “But I’ll have one.”

She smirked and placed the pill on her tongue, and it dissolved slowly as she winked at the man before patting him on the back and sending him on his way. She turned back to face Anakin with a grin as he eyed her cautiously. “Do you know that guy?” He asked and looked behind her as the man offered one of the pills to another girl. 

“Nope,” she answered, stealing his drink from his hand while he was distracted and finishing it off for him. 

He looked back at her and she rolled her eyes when he said, “Do you think it’s  a good idea to take pills from random men at bars?”

“Who are you, my dad?” She laughed, taking his wrist in her hand. “Just because you don’t do drugs doesn’t mean you can judge those who do.” 

Anakin followed her as she pulled him to the middle of the room, and he had to squeeze uncomfortably in between more than one intoxicated girl who ran her nails down his body on his way past. “I’m not judging,” he said. “Just want to make sure you’re being safe.”

She smirked up at him as she tried to wrap her arms around his shoulders. “I’m with you, aren’t I?” She asked, slurring her words and pushing herself up so her face was close to his. “I’m the safest I could be.”

“Okay,” he took her wrists in his hands and dropped her arms to her sides. “I think you’ve consumed more than enough tonight. Let’s just go.”

Liz pulled back when he tried to guide her towards the door, shaking her head like a kid even though she was nearing her thirties. “You go if you want to so badly,” she scoffed. “Call your little girlfriend and go to bed. I’m staying.”

He watched as she began dancing with the guy she got the pill from and sighed as he pulled out his phone to check the time. 

2:43 AM.

Fuck, he was going to be exhausted during the band meeting tomorrow and he probably will only get an hour or two of sleep at the most if he left now, but he knew he couldn’t leave her alone this time. She was far too intoxicated and he would feel awful if something were to happen to her after he left. 

So, with a huff, he pocketed his nearly dead phone and leaned against a pillar, keeping an eye on her for a few more hours after that. He ended up pretty much carrying her back to where the bus parked was at nearly six in the morning, his body aching and his eyes sore from lack of sleep. 

He felt like he had been sleeping for five minutes when Vinny shook him awake and pointed towards the couch. “Morning, Anakin,” he greeted. “Why is Liz sleeping on our couch?”

Anakin groaned as he got out of his bunk and looked at the couch, too. “She got completely wasted last night,” he told Vinny. “I couldn’t get her to leave until, like, five in the morning and I let her sleep there since nothing else was open and she didn’t make any reservations at a hotel.”

Vinny nodded as he tucked his phone and wallet into his jean pockets. “Uh huh,” he muttered, heading towards the door. “Well, have fun dealing with her hangover.”

“Wait,” Anakin called after him, walking over to Vinny quickly despite his head begging him to stop moving right now. “Where are you going? I thought Helena said there was a band meeting today.”

Vinny shook his head and opened the bus door. “No? Pretty sure that was her way of getting you to talk to her without you thinking something is up,” he answered, stepping off the bus. “With that being said, if you don’t show up to that meeting, I’ll personally kick your ass.”

Then he was gone and Anakin was left holding his stomach as he felt nausea wash over him. He passed by Liz and headed for his bunk again, picking out black jeans and a hoodie he’s had since his first year of college before he dropped out to go on tour. 

He felt around in the pockets of the jeans he wore last night and pulled out his phone, a deep sigh leaving his mouth when he saw that it was at 2%. He also saw that you had texted him, and he typed out a response as he walked by Liz again. He debated on whether or not he should wake her up, but decided not to as he left the bus. 

She could sleep there for now until she was scheduled to take their pictures later tonight. And she could deal with her own hangover.

Princess: Hey..miss you. Can we call later today?

Miss you, too. Yeah, call me when you’re able to. 

He sent it before pulling up the directions to the coffee shop Helena sent him. 

Anakin barely made it there before his phone died, and as soon as he entered the shop and met Helena’s eye, it powered off. He shoved it into his pocket and sat down across from her at the table. “Hey, sorry, I had a hard time finding this place,” he said as he looked around the small shop. 

Helena hummed as she brought her cup of coffee up to her mouth, pushing another one towards him with her free hand. “That’s alright,” she trailed off, sipping on her drink as she observed him with a raised brow before leaning forward. “Permission to be blunt, Anakin?”

Anakin laughed as he sipped his own drink, grimacing at the hot liquid before swallowing quickly. “Permission granted, like always,” he answered, setting the cup aside. “You know that.”

Helena gave him a tight lipped smile as she leaned back again. “You look like shit,” she stated, crossing her arms while still holding her coffee. “Like, awful. Anakin, you look bad.”

Anakin laughed unexpectedly and looked around again. He wasn’t sure what he thought she was going to say, but it certainly wasn’t that. “Uh…thanks for that, Hel. You sure know how to make a guy feel good about himself,”

When he met her eyes again, he could see the concern in them. “I’m serious, Anakin,” she said, much quieter now as her gaze flickered all over his face. “How much sleep have you been getting? You’ve got circles under your eyes, you’re hungover all the time, you’ve lost weight…I’m worried about you, Anakin.”

He shifted uncomfortably in the chair before leaning back and avoiding eye contact with his manager. He knew he wasn’t doing very well at the moment, but there wasn’t much he could do about some of her concerns. 

He knew his sleep schedule would become fucked when he left you behind in London, and he gave her a warning about that in advance. The drinking and hangovers were on him, though, and he really didn’t have an excuse for that. 

Still, he felt like he was being called out by one of his high school teachers, and he wasn’t the biggest fan of that feeling. 

Helena sighed at his lack of response and set her drink aside as she thought over her next words. “Is it Y/n? I haven’t heard you talk about her much lately,” she cautiously asked. 

Anakin looked over, glaring at her for a second before shaking his head. “No, it’s not Y/n. She’s doing great all by herself in London,” he bitterly answered, making Helena raise a brow. 

“Okay…” She sat back again, knowing better than to push that topic any further because of his hostile answer. “How’s the song writing coming along?”

He laughed quietly at that one. “Amazing,” he said and watched as she perked up at that. Too bad he was about to ruin her brief moment of happiness. “I’ve written one whole sentence. Not a lyric, but a sentence.” 

She raised both brows and pressed her lips together at that, nodding in a way that told him she was holding back. “Okay…um…alright,” she dropped her gaze and focused on the table, and Anakin felt bad about his inability to be a decent fucking guy nowadays. “Okay….as your manager, I’m responsible for you, so, I have to ask….what’s with all the partying? All the hangovers?”

Anakin gave her a look that begged her to just drop it, but she just gave him an unreadable expression. He sighed as he crossed his own arms. “I don’t know, I thought all musicians went out and partied in their prime,”

Helena nodded and grabbed her drink again. “Most do…but I see you’ve gotten pretty close with Elizabeth. What’s that all about?” 

“I thought you wanted us to be nice to her,” he pointed out and Helena nodded again. 

“I do want that, but you’ve been spending more and more time with her at all these bars and clubs,” she trailed off, shrugging afterwards. “Just worried about you, is all.”

Anakin slouches back and nods. “Well, I’m fine,” he mumbled, giving her a half-assed thumbs up as if it would help her believe his words. “Really. Just missing my other half, that’s it.” 

Helena gave him a sad smile. “You sure that’s it?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “That’s it. I’m working on the song, I promise. It’s just taking longer than normal, but I’ll get it done.”

She nodded and sat up straighter. “Good to hear,”

He smiled back at her as he looked at the empty seats next to them in the booth. “So, why did you say this was a band meeting when you only wanted to talk to me?”

Helena gave him a pointed look, “Would you have actually shown up if I told you that I wanted to meet with you to call you out on your shit?”

Anakin let out a genuine laugh at that, running his hand through his messy hair as he shook his head. “No, probably not,”

-

“Before you all run out of here and get drunk or whatever it is that college students do on weekends nowadays, I have a little announcement,” Kenneth said just as you and the rest of the class started packing up. “There’s an orientation event happening this weekend. Just something to encourage first time students to put themselves out there, be creative..things like that.”

You shove your books in your bag as you stand up, never looking away from your instructor as his gaze flickers all around the room. 

“After reading the assignments you’ve all submitted, I’ve decided I want one of you to tag along with me to the orientation, just as long as you’re not booked and busy for the weekend like I’m sure you all are,” he said, earning a few scattered laughs before he met your gaze. “Miss Y/l/n, I think you will learn a thing or two if you were to attend the orientation. If you are able to.”

Your face heats up as everyone looks at you, making you shift a bit and glance up at Evan, who didn’t look too happy but still did a decent job at hiding it. “Me?”

Kenneth nodded, “Yeah, you. I think spending a few hours with the young writers would do you well,”

You swallow harshly as you avoid eye contact with every single student that was looking at you. “Yeah, sure, I….sounds fun,”

“Great,” Kenneth nodded, standing up as well. “And don’t worry, there will be many other opportunities like this for everyone else. Have a good weekend, guys.”

Evan shook his head and shoved his notebook in his bag as he headed for the door, pausing when he realized that you weren’t following him. “Hey,” he called out to you, making you look over at him from where you stood by the table. “You coming?”

Holding up your index finger, you give him a shy and embarrassed smile. “One sec,” you answer before quickly walking over to Kenneth’s desk. “Hi, sorry, but are you sure I’m the right fit for this? There’s a lot of talent in this class.”

You look over at Evan, who just shakes his head again and leaves the room with everyone else. Kenneth looked down at you with a raised brow. “It’s just an orientation, Miss Y/l/n, not a showcase,” he said. “That happens much later.”

You nod and place your bag over your shoulder. “Right, okay, sorry. Thank you for, you know, picking me, I…I appreciate it,” you trail off. “Where is it happening? Will I need to wear something specific?”

Kenneth shook his head as he packed his own bag. “No, nothing specific. They’ll give you a name tag so people will know you’re part of the event, which is happening on campus,” he answered. “In the Quad.”

“The Quad, right,” you nod. “Time?”

“One in the afternoon,”

“Okay, great,” you say and back away from him, hoping Evan waited for you in the hall. You also hoped he wasn’t mad at you like you think he might be. “Thanks again.”

Kenneth gave you a nod. “See you tomorrow, Miss Y/l/n,” 

“See you tomorrow,” you say back before leaving the classroom and meeting Evan’s eye as you enter the hallway. “Jesus.”

Evan laughs and it sounds a bit forced as you and he walk down the hall. “What? Upset that the instructors got a soft spot for you?”

His question caught you off guard and you stumble a bit as you near the exit. “He does not,” you scoff. “He said everyone will get an opportunity like this.”

Evan holds the door open for you. “Yeah, only because he had to,” he said, making you glare up at him for a few seconds. “Oh, come on, the man basically just said you’re the best in the class, he’s gotta keep the rest of our hopes up so we don’t drop out.”

You shake your head. “You and your threats to drop out,” you mutter, walking a few steps ahead of him. “I didn’t ask him to choose me, okay? It just happened.”

Evan stopped walking, making you stop as well and turn to face him. “And you agreed,”

“What was I supposed to do? Tell him no?” You raise your voice a bit before promptly shutting up and looking down. He was making you feel bad about being chosen by Kenneth, but you still didn’t want there to be tension between you and the only person you actually talk to in class. “There’s that reading assignment we got earlier today…do you want to work on it together? Maybe we can order in, too.”

Evan looked away and shook his head. “No, I think I’ll have an early night tonight,” he said as he began walking in the opposite direction. 

“Ev,” you call out after him but he just continues walking. 

“I’ll see you on Monday,” he said back and then he was halfway across the campus, leaving you all by yourself. 

You curse under your breath, frustration seeping into you as you pull out your phone and click on Anakin’s contact. He was probably the only person in the whole world you wanted to talk to right now. “Hey, princess,” he greets you when the call connects. 

“Hi, Ani,” you say as you begin walking again. “How are you?”

“Could be better,” he answered and you could hear him fidgeting with something in the background. “What about you? How was your day?”

You look back in the direction Evan took off in, but he was long gone now. “It was going well until about five minutes ago,” you say as you walk towards your dorm. “I accidentally pissed Evan off and now he’s all mad at me.”

“Why is he mad at you?” Even on the phone you could still hear the protectiveness in Anakin’s voice, and it provided you with the smallest amount of comfort. 

“He thinks Kenneth has a soft spot for me since he asked me to go to this orientation thing with him this weekend,” you mumble and after saying it out loud, you were kind of starting to agree with Evan. “I don’t know, it’s just…I don’t know.”

Anakin scoffs. “Sounds like Evan is just jealous of you,” 

You bite down on your lip and take out your keys. “He’s got nothing to be jealous of, though,”

“I think he does,” Anakin says and you raise a brow as you drop your bag onto your bed. “You’re clearly one of the best students there. You write better than all of them, and that’s pretty obvious by the feedback you’re getting. He’s probably just pissed you’re getting all the attention.”

He almost sounded annoyed, and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was being petty. “You say that with such pride,” you say back.

The line goes quiet for a few seconds before he says in a monotone voice, “You know how proud of you I am,”

He says that, yet he wasn’t doing a very good job at showing it at all lately, but you didn’t want to call him out on it and have both him and Evan mad at you. “Yeah,” you trail off as you pull out your laptop. “Anyway, I miss your face. Can you video call me?”

“I can’t right now, baby, I’m heading to the venue soon,” he replied and you felt your heart deflate a bit. 

“Oh, okay,” you mumble and sit down at your small desk. You open your laptop and pull up the word document you’ve been working on for a week or so now as you add, “Have a good show then, Ani. I love you.”

“I love you, too, princess,” he said back then ended the call. 

You set your phone down with a sigh as you look around your empty room. Bailey had gone home for the weekend and Evan rejected your offer to hang out, and you were left to sit by yourself and forced to also have an early night. 

The next day you make it to campus for twelve thirty and stand by Kenneth as the fresh out of high school graduates walk around the Quad. You smile at the possible new students and hand out the sheets you were given that have the programs listed on them, your mind far away from where your body currently is. 

After a while of doing that, Kenneth turns to you with a small smile. “You doing okay?” He asked, making you look up at him. “You seem a bit quiet today.”

“Do I?” You ask back and look around the campus again. “I’m sorry, I’m just…I’m sorry.”

He laughs and takes the papers from you, setting them down on the table you were standing in front of before leaning against it. “That’s alright, Miss Y/l/n,” 

You look over at him and cross your arms. “I have a first name, you know,” you joke, leaning against the table as well. “Why do you always call me by my last name?” 

Kenneth shrugged as he smiled at one of the students. “Sounds more professional that way, doesn’t it?”

You also shrug as you look down at the grass. “Makes me feel old,”

“You are nowhere near being old,” he said and you laugh under your breath. “I just want to treat my students like the adults you all are. That doesn’t mean you’re old.”

Nodding, you gaze around at the teens who all seemed so excited to start the next chapter of their lives. You remembered when that was you, fresh out of high school with Anakin by your side as you tried to figure out what you wanted to do. Anakin had it all planned out, and it wasn’t long after that when he had managed to get himself a manager and secure a world tour at the age of twenty. 

Your eyes burned as you tried not to reminisce about those times. “Yeah, I guess,” 

Kenneth narrows his eyes at you and leans over a bit, “What’s going on with you, huh? What’s got you so quiet?”

You press your lips together and shrug, “I don’t know, I just…” you stutter and let out a frustrated sigh. “I guess I just feel left out…with my boyfriend. He’s out there living his life with some of the best guys I know by his side, and I….I’m just here. Alone.”

You weren’t sure why you were telling your instructor, out of all people, this, but you were quickly realizing that you needed an outlet. You needed someone to listen and needed a way to get your feelings out instead of bottling them up all the time. 

You give him an embarrassed smile and look away, not wanting him to think that you were just some weak girl who can’t function without her boyfriend. “I’m sorry, you…you don’t need to know about all that,” 

Kenneth shrugged. “I don’t mind being the person you vent to,” he said, surprising you a bit. “People think college is the worst time of their lives; you’re lonely, broke most of the time, stressed beyond belief. It shouldn’t be that way, at least I don’t think it should. And as for you, I think you’re doing great for someone who is supposedly alone. You have a really…real way with words, Miss Y/l/n. I think you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

You take in his words and realize that they’re probably the most supportive ones you’ve heard since you got here, and the fact that it was from your instructor and not your friends or boyfriend was a bit eye opening. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly, feeling your confidence deflate a bit as you begin to question if you were doing the right thing at this point in your life. 

“It’s okay,” he replied and stood up. “Come on, we have thirty graduates to inspire.”

You smile before following after him, still stuck in your own head about whether or not you are happy with how your life is going at the moment and also a bit worried that you had made a mistake.

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen edit #hayden christensen gif #anakin skywalker #hayden christensen icons #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin smut #anakin star wars #anakin skywalker smut #sw anakin #anakin skywalker imagines #anakin skywalker headcanons #anakin x reader #star wars anakin #anakin fanfiction #tcw anakin #wrapped around your finger au #wrapped around your finger #screaming whispers au #rocker anakin skywalker #rocker anakin

[write-and-buried]

The Thirteenth Step

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Summary; The first time you meet Frankie, he trades you Xanax for cocaine Word Count; ~2.2k Content & Warnings; DEAD DOVE. DO NOT EAT. heavy drug use, illicit drug use, graphic description of an overdose, Reader & Frankie are in active addiction, co-dependent relationship, explicit sexual content, heavy angst, takes place before TF, ambiguous, unsatisfying ending. Author Note; I've had this idea kicking around in my head for a while. It's extremely angsty, and I feel the need to stress that if you are at all triggered by the content listed above, skip this work and i'll see you on the next one

This work contains explicit adult content and is intended for audiences over the age of eighteen. By continuing to read you agree that you are 18 or older, have read the content and warnings and wish to proceed

The first time you meet Frankie, he trades you Xanax for cocaine. You trade pills for powder in the corner of a Wal-Mart parking lot and try not to blurt out an explanation of why you’re there. He doesn’t ask, you don’t offer. But you see him around, cap pulled low over his hair, curling over his ears.

He’s at the bar you frequent, laughing loudly with a group of just as rowdy men. They don’t notice him slipping to the bathroom, returning with eyes rimmed red. Nobody notices you slip two more beneath your tongue and feel the acrid taste dissolve into a warmth across your skin.

He catches up to you in the carpark, asks if he can drive you home. It’s an offer you refuse, you give him a knowing look when he asks why. The way he scrubs a hand across his jaw makes your chest ache. Instead, he buys you a cab, crawls in beside you and never leaves.

It’s easy, easier than you would have thought, to have him near you. He’s so soft, his voice so low and soothing it reminds you of the pills you spend half your paycheck on, just as addicting as the smile that creases the corner of his eyes. He makes you laugh until it hurts, that wicked sense of humor delivered almost deadpan. You like the way he looks at you when your laughing, like the sun lit his face in the winter.

He likes that you don’t judge him. That there are mirrors and razors on your coffee table, and you don’t say anything. He smokes a joint with you before you go to bed. You suppose you are friends. A part of you wonders if it’s just because you’re both addicted. A bigger part knows it’s because you won’t ask him why.

He tells you.

It takes too many lines, so many that he can’t sit still and you’re watching him through a hazy cloud of Valium and Xanax and something that might have been Oxy. You’re past the pride of calling yourself a junkie. The claws are in to deep now, mornings too shaky, stomach rolling like the tide as he explains.

It chases the nightmares for him. It’s a shield against the memory of bullets, the click of razor on mirror the sound of weapons dropping useless to the desert floor. It’s the quiet roar of a helicopter, beating heavy inside his head. It’s making his heart race in a way he can control, because his life is out of control, and this is something he has power over.

That makes you laugh, syrup and slow as you hold your hand out to him. Explain that none of it is in your control, none of it is in his. You pull him into an embrace, let his head rest on your shoulder as you try and gift him some of the quiet the pills have gifted you.

You gain weight, then lose it. He becomes wiry muscle and paper skin. You still think he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. You’re already ignoring calls from friends and family when he starts to copy you, switching his phone to silent when he sees the name Miller or Garcia on the screen. He silences them to do another line, to stay in this bubble with you.

It’s the worst kind of day when it turns. You’re both dry, barely coping, smoking weed and staying quiet, each locked in your own misery as you watch something neither of you can focus on, a nature documentary, maybe. Something that’s supposed to soothe your itching skin, calm his shaking nerves, make you both feel like you can lie about how deep you’re in a little longer.

He says it’s for work, you tell yourself it’s just to function, that the active prescription is enough of a justification for buying Oxy off the street, picking up bags of cocaine for him at the same time. Your dealer gives you a two-for-one special and that’s something that makes you both laugh over day old pizza.

You watch the curve of his chest instead of the tv. Watch the way he breathes through the ache in his skin and realize he’s never gotten angry with you. It’s been weeks of this now, some kind of hazy cloud of companionship, of take-out and wrapping yourself inside a nest with someone who wouldn’t judge you. He’s never tried anything, sleeping on your couch when he crashes, calling a cab home. He’s your friend. He’s your friend in the same fucked up mess you’re in and for that you love him.

It feels like the abyss is getting closer. Like one of these days, you’ll have to admit you have a problem. That you need help. But there’s still food in your belly, there’s still money in your bank account, and you wonder from time to time what you’ll do when those both run empty. If that hunger will come close to comparing to what you’re feeling right now.

He’s surprised when you kiss him. His eyebrows raise to disappear beneath the hat you’ve never seen him without. You straddle his waist without thinking as his hands move to your hips. Its empty pizza boxes being kicked to the floor, the soft drone of a voice telling you about the ocean as soundtrack as you take off his shirt, he takes off your pants, his hat knocked loose so you can finger the curls of his hair.

It's fast and messy and matches the chaos you feel inside your skin, spit slicked fingers opening you for him, the blunt press of his hard cock inside you, a desperate mewl escaping your lips as he bites your neck with a groan. He finds the time to clasp your hands together, squeeze your knuckles in a rhythm that matches the insect wings of your lungs and makes you shatter around him. Follows you into oblivion with a hushed cry of your name.

Distraction, that’s what you call it. When you’re both bored or both low or both too fucked up to know better. You wake up cradled in his arms more often than not now. You’re high more often than your sober now. So is he.

You lose your job first. A random drug test that makes your cheeks pink when you realize it’s not that random. That they know, and this is their reason. You’re out without an offer of help, not that you would have accepted it.

You fuck Frankie in the back of his truck in that same Wal-Mart you met him. It sends shivers up your spine; makes you feel some kind of alive.

It takes eight weeks for it to change again. You’re living in rooms with blacked out windows. Your house smells fetid, like rotting from the inside. You’re half convinced that smell is your soul, blacked out and wasting away. You’re not willing to face it yet.

Frankie maintains your supply. He stretches his paycheck to cover both of you and a large pizza most nights and you sit on your couch and watch TV in some fucked up painting of romance. You love him. It’s easier and simpler than you would have thought to admit it. That his smile is a source of comfort, his huffed breathing at your back a safety blanket. That he’s warm and strong and everything you were looking for in little white pills.

That he fills gaps you were already trying to plug with prescriptions long before you knew him. You keep that part a secret. You whisper it to him when he falls asleep, his body winning out over chemicals for the first time in days, sweaty on your sheets as he paws for you in dreams.

It’s toxic. You can’t untangle him from the fantasy life you’ve created. Technicolor wonderings of a future together, kids and a white picket fence that’s not overgrown, flowers blooming in the spring that he would pick, and you would scold, and you’d laugh anyway as he tucked one behind your ear.

You’re drowning in it, drowning in the scent of him. Motor oil and sugar free gum and sweet words he whispers into your neck. He says them in the morning. He doesn’t say them when you’re high. When you ask him, he says it’s because it means more sober. It’s the first hint you get he feels it too.

It’s seven months and everything gets worse. It’s night shift and you miss him, so you keep taking pills to cope with the loneliness until everything goes white at the edges. He shakes you conscious in a puddle of vomit, stale bread and undigested pills sticky on your cheek. He gets you in the shower and trembles as he holds you. The clean sheets on the bed are a band aid.

He makes lazy, slow love to you in the days coming, hands cradling your hips like you’re something precious, like you have this luxury, like you’re not both taming a snarling beast in your gut that’s ripping you open from the inside. He kisses you slow, syrup thick words on his tongue as he tells you how much he loves you.

“You’re the only good thing in my life” he whispers into your neck.

There’s pills and liquor on the nightstand. The room smells like weed and sex and the rot of human misery.

You leave two days later. He understands. Frankie understands when you cut contact, sitting in a white bedroom of a clinic your sister got you into. But you think about him enough that it’s like needles in your skin. Like each session is a love letter written just for him. That you’re going to get better, and he’s going to get better and you’re doing it for each other, because Frankie deserves the best of you.

It takes months. Its painful, like flaying bits of skin. But those little chips of plastic that show your progress start to mean more than him. He feels like a dream now, like something you imagined. You move out of state. You find a new job; you go to meetings. When that beast scratches at your insides, you have people you can call. And you call them.

You’d call it easy, but it isn’t. Each day feels like a battle, but you’re winning most of the time.

Its eighteen months before you head home. The house you own has changed renters; you need to clean it out. The town feels itchy under your skin, like it’s watching you. You drive past the Wal-Mart with white knuckles on the steering wheel and wonder if this town is still in the Opioid death grip. You wonder how you were possibly one of the lucky ones.

You stay in a shitty motel. It takes you a day and a phone call before you seek them out, the notices tacked on a public library corkboard, advertising the meeting taking place at a community center. They always smell like the same cheap coffee and sugary doughnuts and the minute you walk in you feel better. There’s nobody here that will judge you.

You leave the meeting in better spirits, a leash on your beast for the time being and debate walking to the all-night pizza place a few blocks down. You used to order from there with Frankie, the grease making your lips slippery when he kissed you breathless.

“Hey sunshine” You jump.

He looks better than you’ve ever seen him. Thicker and stronger, his beard grown in patchy, his hair long enough to curl around his ears, begging to be tucked away. The word unlocks a memory of a sober Sunday, laying in your backyard in summer, itchy from the grass with him, stains on both your knees.

“Hey”

He gives you a smile that makes your insides melt. It makes your skin hum in a way pills didn’t, its kinder, its edges rounder and softer. He shows you his chip as he walks with you to the pizza place. He got a year after you did. His cheeks pink when he shows you a photo of the fat cheeked baby in his wallet, he thumbs its edge with a grin.

He looks happy, he sounds happy. He tells you half a story about the guys whose calls he used to ignore and your heart sings for him. He’s still got that tinge of sadness. It makes you want to kiss him.

You share a slice of pepperoni, and you tell him about your new job. You both skirt the eight months neither of you remember well enough. It’s still easy, it’s still familiar. It takes you half an hour to work up the courage to ask him, knowing the answers going to hurt.

“Frankie? Was it real?”

He sucks a lip between his teeth and nods. Scratches the back of his neck and meets your eyes.

“Course it was, sunshine. Chasing you and chasing high became the same thing after a while. Woulda sold my soul to the devil just to make you laugh”

“Didn’t you?” you ask.

Frankie doesn’t answer.

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #tw drug use #tw drugs #tw addiction #tw overdose #this is dark and angsty #dont ask me why i wrote it #i just did

[keilemlucent]

if you are interested, i would like to present my dear salem with hero hawks and his little horny crush on his innocent assistant bc man’s corruption kink go brrrrrr😇

okay look LOOK i have... such a thing for hawks getting a h*rd on for his sweet, far-too kind PA.

(NSFW)

word count: 2.5k

warnings: dubcon, coersion, (a little bit of) yandere hawks, reader wears lingerie, reader is sorta oblivious,  sugar daddy hawks, scumbag hawks, power imbalance, hawks is a manipulative bastard but its hot so who cares <3

...

“Are you sure this is... appropriate, sir?” 

No, no, definitely not, not at all. Taking his sweet, desperately-in-need-of-a-break PA out on a little shopping spree was definitely crossing a lot of professional lines, but how could he care? He was far more focused on the wobbly way ‘sir’ had dripped off your tongue.

It wasn’t sin, but he’d get you there, he was quite persuasive. 

The little shopping trip (literally) landed you at a luxury mall across Fukuoka, many-floored and lavishing decorated with twinkling, bright bulbs and crystal on every fixture. The stores were expensive, too expensive for you to afford on your own but Keigo knew how hard you’d been working! All that extra paperwork (he’d been purposefully giving you because it kept you around the office later and more often) had been getting done beautifully, and you deserved a treat. Many of them. 

Consider it an early bonus.

You already had quite a few bags dangling off your arms, the cords and ribbons digging into your arms (god, he wished he could make some marks of his own--). And Keigo had decided to treat you to one, final stop. He guided you to the store entrance with a hand on your lower back.

God help you, a lingerie store.

Nothing cheap, only custom-made and designer pieces. It was more of a boutique, some places private where no one would bother the two of you. 

He watched your expression, the pull of your brows and the way your pupils dilated. It might’ve been from a bit of ill-placed stress, but he’s sure he can get your eyes just as inky other ways, if given the opportunity. 

“This is remarkably appropriate, dove,” He hummed and ushered you inside the store entrance, flashing a grin to the starry-eyed salesclerk. His hand drifted downward, just over the upper curves of your ass, just to watch you squirm. “Consider it a reward! You’ve been doing so much good for me and the agency, you deserve a treat or two, don’t you think?”

You shifted the bags on your arms and dared to meet his gaze with your own, meek and wide, “I-I think this is more than ‘a treat or two’--”

“Then shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, thanking me for my generosity then?” Keigo smirked as your expression faltered. You were way too easy and god, he fucking loved it.

Before you had a chance to fret anymore, he assured you quietly that everything was alright. A bit of praise to ice the pinpricks he left behind. He shooed you into the fitting rooms, pointing a beaming smile at a clerk and getting to work. 

He’d have you spoiled, whether you liked it or not.

...

You sat on the plush bench of the fitting room, hands in fist and lip tucked between your teeth. You chewed on it, swallowing around your dry throat. Hawks’ voice drifted back from the salesfloor, though you couldn’t tell what he was saying. You could pick up words like ‘sweet’ and ‘cute’ and you could only assume the words were about the bright-eyed, big-titted employee you saw when you walked in.

You squeeze the fabric of your skirt and tried to let some of the tension in your shoulders dissipate. 

“Oh, wow, dove, the selection they have here is amazing!” Hawks whistled as he returned to the fitting room, alone, carrying an armful of padded, velvet hangers. 

“I can imagine,” You wished you could have looked around a bit yourself, but Hawks had a much better eye for these things than you did. You were very fortunate to have him around. 

He arranged them on a gold railing nearby, wings tucked to his back as to not crowd the small space of the dressing room.

It was truly just a single room, though it was large enough. Six-sided, each wall complete with a well-padded, velvet bench seat to idle on. The middle of the room had a little raised platform, leading to three, angled mirrors. They were massive and felt a bit too revealing as Hawks hummed to himself nearby.

The only thing separating you from the rest of the store was a heavy, velvet draping. 

Hawks plopped onto the cushion next to you, letting out a deep sigh and leaning back. You watched him, gaze flickering from the garments on the rack and the exposed patch of his chest visible from the unpopped buttons of his shirt. 

His feathers brushed up against your arm and you shuddered.

“Now, sweet thing,” He clicked his tongue, jerking his gaze to the hangers. “I picked out some pretty sweet pieces for you. Why don’t you try them on and let me know what you think, hm?”

You nodded, though your stomach felt like there was suddenly lead in it. From the looks of the lace and silks, those pieces weren't going to cover much of anything. You mentally sparred with yourself.

It’s not... that bad. It’s not like he’s going to see anything more than he would if you were wearing a swimsuit. 

Besides, this a gift, right? You should at least show him what he’d paid for on an actual body. 

He had you so well-trained--

You stood, moving to the rack on shaking legs and examining the pieces.

They’re all... a bit whorish. None of those soft babydolls and teddies that folks wore in those softcore pornos that you definitely never watched. The pieces Hawks picked for you aren’t the least bit modest. They’re all lace, mesh, and ribbons. Stockings and garters that looked like they might be a tich too snug. You grab the least garish-looking piece. 

And Hawks was still in the room, body lax and slumped against the cushions.

His eyes lazily opened, a bushy brow-raising, “You good, dove?” 

“... Aren’t you gonna step out?” 

He chuckled and you knew you were fucked. Just not literally, not yet. 

“Why the hell would I do that?” Hawks laughed and righted himself. His vibrant gold eyes bore into yours, though they looked more black than topaz by that point. 

You swallowed. 

“I would prefer if you d-did.”

“And if I don’t?” His voice oozed something that made your knees weak. “What then? I know you don’t like disappointing me.”

You didn’t, but this was a bit far. ‘A bit’. 

“... s-sir, please,” You begged, albeit quietly. 

This was crossing lines. As much as Hawks gave you special treatment at the agency, literally and figuratively taking you under his wing and tending to your needs as he saw them and has he saw fit, stripping and playing dress-up in expensive lingerie definitely was too far.

As much as part of you adored the attention, you tried to keep that quiet. Stuffed down and hidden. Hawks was your boss, and you had to keep yourself occupied with his busy schedule and mountains of paperwork, lest you allow yourself to dissolve into thinking his attentions were anything other than favoritism. 

Oh my god, you really were that dense

“’Please’?” Hawks cocked his head to the side, the corners of his lips curling. “‘Please’ what, dovey? Tell me.”

You let out a shaking breath, “Hawks, this is remarkably inappropriate--” 

“Maybe,” He cuts you off swiftly, a flap of his wings pushing him to his feet and directly in front of you. “You just need some help? That’s it?”

Your mouth went dry. He wasn’t wrong, not really. 

“That’s all, huh?” Hawks ran a hand through his hair, his wings curling around the room, too-wide and fluffed for the small space. “Should’ve just said something. I imagine you don’t do this kind of thing often.”

“N-no, I don’t.”

Does anyone? 

“That’s alright, I know you try your best and just need that extra push, hm?” Hawks sighed, deep in his chest. 

With the scarlet swallowing your peripheral vision, you feel like you’re suffocating. Maybe in a good way. You nodded, pliant.

He always knows you. What you want, what you crave, what you need. 

Nimble fingers untucked your blouse from your waist, and you yipped at the chill of his fingers. He was undeterred, loosening the garment and immediately going for the buttons.

One by one, they came undone and you wrap your arms tighter around your middle. Hawks ogled, openly and without a care. It made something in you writhe, but you still wanted more of it. His attention, overt affections that supposedly mean nothing-- you want it.

He slid the blouse from your shoulder, letting it fall to the ground. You watched as his feather shuddered, rippling as he let out a few harsh breaths. You knew how you must look, hot and flushed to the touch. Bare on your upper half, sans a cheap bra that had seen better. 

“Are you sure--” You weren’t sure what you were going to ask, but Hawks didn’t let you say it besides.

“Yes, of course, obviously,’” He licked his goddamn lips. A taloned-finger caught the pilling strap of your bra, snapping it against your shoulder. “Besides, look at this! Can’t have you representing the agency, me, and my brand wearing shit like this.”

Something burned in your gut, some mix of shame and arousal that was threatening to spill from the wet corners of your eyes. 

Hawks dropped to his knees, so fast you hardly could register it. His hands hooked in your skirt by the first two knuckles and tugged and he went down. The sound of splitting fabric cracked in the air, and your skirt fell to the floor in tatters.

And Hawks, the fucker, hovered just inches away from your covered cunt. The cheap cotton of your panties did nothing to shield you from the hot breath that he fanned over you.

“H-Hawks!” You cried out, attempting to push at his shoulders with sweaty palms. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“Just taking a closer look,” He gave you no time to protest as those quick fingers of his pulled the elastic of your panties, tugging them down your thighs. He had the decency to tap your ankles, one at a time, so you could step out of the garment. “You don’t mind, do you?”

You let him. 

Perhaps you should’ve protested a bit more. Maybe. But it wasn’t like this wasn’t your wildest fantasy. Your sweet, too-kind boss, spoiling you. You weren’t sure if you’d thought about Hawks that way at first, but he had gotten to you at some point. The impromptu lunches, the late nights together, the walks and flights home. There was even that one he’d managed to wrestle a guy getting too handsy at a club with (how had he known you’d even been there?)

Hawks unclipped your bra, throwing the thing to the side with a  look akin to disgust. He snatched the hanger and garment from your hand and nodded toward the platform.

“Stand over there like a good girl for me, okay? Don’t take your eyes off yourself.”

You couldn’t disobey him, could you?

You’d seen what he did to people who crossed him, when it really mattered. He didn’t put his heart or energy into something unless he really, actually cared. And the handful of times you’d seen that go to shit had left memories of sharpened feathers and terror-filled eyes in their wake.

But you were good for him. His assistant who always made sure his meetings lined up with his patrols, and that everything was brief unless entirely necessary otherwise. You were the one who made sure he had caffeine nearby and a full belly, even on his most busy of days. 

He’d never do anything other than be kind, right?

You didn’t want to find out otherwise. 

He approached you from behind, the silk of the garment tucked over his arm. His eyes looked predatory, gleaming and inky. 

He only stopped when his chest is flush to your back, hands finding their home just above your hips with a squeeze. You shuddered at the feeling, new and raw and you couldn’t tell if you hated or loved it. 

“I want to see how this looks on you, god,” Hawks groaned, nails biting into your skin. “Hold still for me, dove.”

You did.

You didn’t dare move an inch as Hawks took his sweet time dressing you up. The garment is silken straps, the lace wrapping around the curves of your hips and chest, securely with expert bows that he pats into place after each one.

It was impossible to ignore the bulge pressing into your ass. Even as he pulled the pair of panties between your cheeks, stroking the lace and the fat with a wide palm, you were far more focused on the heat and hardness slowly grinding at the other cheek.

He tied you up expertly, and you watched in the mirrors, seeing each angle of it. The way his hands squeezed and pulled at your flesh along the way. The hungry glint in his eyes as he traced your figure. The way his wings seemed to shake and flutter in tandem with your short, quick breaths.

You were truly at his mercy. 

“Look at that,” He whistled low, grabbing your jaw and pulling your gaze just where he’d like. “Tied up like a pretty present I told you this would be good, didn’t I?”

“Y-You did.”

Hawks sighed, draping himself over your shoulders and nuzzling into your neck. You could feel the part of his plush lips, the way they drag over your skin. You swore you a nip or two.

His gaze met yours in the mirror. One of his hands trailed low, very low, sliding over top of the lace panties and cupping your sex. His index fingers lazily traced your lips through the fabric, idle. His other went to grope your chest, more insistent as he palmed at you, pinching a nipple as you began to sputter. 

A warbled moan cracked from your lips as Hawks fingers dipped below the seams of the pretty garment, rubbing at just the rights parts of you, tugging your body flush to his. 

“W-Wait, Hawks!” You wrapped a hand around on his wrist, begging your breath to stay somewhat even. “What if someone hears? Or one of the employees comes back? What if--”

“Do you think I care?” Hawks groaned, grunting as he ground into your ass. The unmistakable sound of fabric tearing cut through the room (again) and the fabric of his pants hit the ground. And suddenly you could feel how hard and hot he was. 

Something twisted in your gut and your legs rubbed together. Hawks caught your gaze, scarlet enveloping the room from the sides of your vision and the mirror in front of you.

Hawks shifted your face toward his, nosing along your cheek. The grip on your jaw was replaced by one on your throat; he was hardly exerting any pressure but the threat and meaning were clear.

Keigo has you right where he wants you. He always has, always will. You’re just a bit too... naive? No, maybe dumb... That’s a bit mean, isn’t it?”

“You need this just as I do,” He spoke low and rolling, touch burning like embers. “You know you do. I know you do. You trust me, don’t know?”

All you could do was nod before Keigo slotted his lips to yours, staking a claim that was only new to you. He nipped at your bottom lip, tugged until you were wincing into his mouth. He caught every sound, every little gesture of yours was his, just like you were. Keigo kicked himself for waiting for this so long, but he could be ginger, under the right circumstances. Ones that benefited him. He could only hope you were as good of a fuck as you were fun to toy with. 

You’d be sin yet, Keigo resolved as he pulled away. He just had to coax you there first, and he wasn’t against more... direct methods.

Maybe you’d finally get it then.

#salem answers #tw dubcon #hawks x reader #hawks #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo #my hero academia #PLEASE mind the tags askdljfks #i've never posted anything like this on this blog so #enjoy💕 #honeykeigo

[achairwithapandaonit]

hello pandora it’s midnight and i haven’t slept in over seventeen hours. can shinsou can use his quirk on himself. what does that even do. he’s simultaneously under the control of his quirk and controlling the one under the control of his quirk. he’s basically just telling his own brain to do things. with his brain. it’s the same but there’s an extra layer of quirk. he is brainwashing himself to do what he tells himself to do. i’m going to pass out for several hours now i think. goodbye have a wonderful day. what happens if shinsou uses his quirk on himself though. if he just talks to himself and responds. also do you think dark shadow likes bird seeds. is aoyama actually french. why hasn’t the league tried finding someone with a brainwashing quirk to brainwash lunch rush into poisoning everyone’s food. why haven’t they done that. it would be so simple. all for one you bastard is it not dramatic enough for you. you want to kill them with your own hands huh. poison is a perfectly effective way of murder. just use that you overdramatic potato. how far into the cellular state does overhaul’s quirk go. can he use his quirk on single cell organisms. why haven’t we been given more information about hound dog when he’s clearly the best character. he’s dogy. el woowoo. does kamui eat mulch. why did tetsutetsu tetsutetsu’s parents name him tetsutetsu. what is lunch rush’s quirk. the biggest mystery of all. what is lunch rush’s quirk. and why hasn’t anyone tried poison yet. it’s outrageous. wait i just realized it’s because the rat is always watching or whatever. still. there’s been a lack of poisons. i think someone should utilize the power of cyanide to beat all for one. you know that post about laying with your tongue on the sidewalk and letting the world dissolve like an uncoated pill? if left uninterrupted by outside forces, could shigaraki do that? could he just disintegrate everything? why hasn’t anyone been talking about hound dog when he is clearly the best character. my brain cells are slowly dying

please i'm crying i woke up to this big paragraph with no spaces and now it's deciphering time.

1) hello pandora it’s midnight and i haven’t slept in over seventeen hours.

- go to sleep! >:(

2) can shinsou can use his quirk on himself. what does that even do. he’s simultaneously under the control of his quirk and controlling the one under the control of his quirk. he’s basically just telling his own brain to do things. with his brain. it’s the same but there’s an extra layer of quirk. he is brainwashing himself to do what he tells himself to do. i’m going to pass out for several hours now i think. goodbye have a wonderful day. what happens if shinsou uses his quirk on himself though. if he just talks to himself and responds.

- uhhhhh,, *checks the wiki* it doesn't really say anything that would help but for my peace of mind i'm gonna just say no he can't use it on himself. ALSO WHAT HAPPENED TO PASSING OUT THERE'S SO MUCH HERE DEAR GOD THANK YOU FOR APPROACHING BUT WITH MUCH SORROW WTF

3) also do you think dark shadow likes bird seeds.

- yes, but he can't eat them. it is a great annoyance to tokoyami, who has to buy the bird seed just for looking at. next question

4) is aoyama actually french.

- i would say yes but wouldn't it be funny if he was faking

5) why hasn’t the league tried finding someone with a brainwashing quirk to brainwash lunch rush into poisoning everyone’s food. why haven’t they done that. it would be so simple. all for one you bastard is it not dramatic enough for you. you want to kill them with your own hands huh. poison is a perfectly effective way of murder. just use that you overdramatic potato.

- i'm starting to suspect this is yellow. this seems like a yellow thing to think. honestly my friend your guess is as good as mine. maybe lunch rushes' heroic spirit is just too powerful and they did try but lunch rush just punted afo into the sun

6) how far into the cellular state does overhaul’s quirk go. can he use his quirk on single cell organisms.

- idk enough about biology or overhaul's quirk to answer that

7) why haven’t we been given more information about hound dog when he’s clearly the best character. he’s dogy. el woowoo.

- because if we were given more info about hound dog he would overtake everyone in the popularity polls and shinsou's working hard on getting to the top. he doesn't need the competition

8) does kamui eat mulch.

- no he tells mt lady off for seducing people for free food and then eats the free food with her anyway

9) why did tetsutetsu tetsutetsu’s parents name him tetsutetsu.

- they knew it was a banger name

10) what is lunch rush’s quirk. the biggest mystery of all. what is lunch rush’s quirk. and why hasn’t anyone tried poison yet. it’s outrageous.

- i don't even know what lunch rush looks like. i never watched season 1

11) wait i just realized it’s because the rat is always watching or whatever.

- well done for reaching a conclusion

12) still. there’s been a lack of poisons. i think someone should utilize the power of cyanide to beat all for one. you know that post about laying with your tongue on the sidewalk and letting the world dissolve like an uncoated pill? if left uninterrupted by outside forces, could shigaraki do that? could he just disintegrate everything?

- maybe???

13) why hasn’t anyone been talking about hound dog when he is clearly the best character.

- gonna say it again, shinsou's working hard to get to the top and doesn't need any popularity competition. rody is already making him struggle (i say, not even looking up the popularity polls)

14) my brain cells are slowly dying

- i can tell.

#ask tag #bnha #yellow *sigh* #possibly

[bestruction]

Getting high with them for the first time

N/A: If you do drugs do it safely

My masterlist

- Eren Jaeger

He's not the type of guy who pressured you to use, let alone say you're immature or coward for it. When you decide to try it, it's genuinely your idea, and who better than your boyfriend to teach?

That's how you end up in his room, with the door and windows lock to make sure the smell doesn't catch his parent's attention. You sat on the carpet while he carefully rolls the joint so that the cigarette holder doesn't fall.

“Tighten your lips like this and take a deep breath through your mouth” He took a short drag before releasing the smoke “But not too long since this is your first time your throat is not used to the smoke”

You nod and accept the cigarette doing as he said. You feel the smoke warm your mouth, watch it hoover before your eyes after blowing and wait for...Nothing. No different sensation, no tingling, literally nothing.

"I don't think it worked"

“It is not like a switch. Wait a minute, babe ”

You talk a little about the day-to-day of the two and then go to play something new that he had bought. After a few games and a few more huffs, you still don't feel any difference or anything. You even try to hold the smoke in your mouth for a longer time, which results in you coughing incessantly and Eren laughing in your face. Hearing him laugh has always been one of your favorite things. The way he bends his body and laughs out loud without shame until he blushes always makes you laugh together with him, like now.

You laugh, laugh until your body asks for air and needs to alternate between laughter and breathing. You feel calm, relax as if you had lifted a weight off your shoulders. You lay on the carpet feeling the softness of the fabric against your skin ... Was it always that soft? So silky? So comfortable? You close your eyes and rub your hand over the texture, and then the smell of Eren's citric perfume invades your nose. When you opened your eyes, jade eyes were watching you closely.

"I think it has taken effect now, huh?" He says stroking your hair. "Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are?" He asks, getting on top of you.

"A few times"

“Then I’m going to tell you again: you’re beautiful” he kisses your lips “So damn beautiful” He kisses your chin “Every single part of you” And now your jaw.

You two spent the afternoon making out on the floor and praising each other. Not because you were high, I mean, not only, but because being so sensitive brought it even more evident how much you wanted each other.

- Levi Ackerman

You had a horrible week. It seemed that everything that could go wrong over the course of seven days had made a point of happening even worse than you imagined. When you got home even after taking a long hot shower and lying in bed, you're unable to relax.

"If you keep turning from side to side, I won't sleep either" Murmured Levi.

"I know. Sorry"

"I'm not complaining. Come here" He pulls you to lie on his chest "Better?"

"A little bit"

"Just a little bit?" He smiles softly "You can try what I do when I get like this"

"Do you mean the mushrooms?"

"If you want to"

You two get out of bed and go to the kitchen. He takes a clear plastic bag from the fridge and places it in front of you. Levi is not the type of guy who gets high all the time. It's more like an escape for when his stress is too high, like yours. He already used it when you met him, and even if you didn't, you never saw a problem with it.

"Just it?"

"I can make tea if you prefer"

"Why don't you use weed like everyone else?"

"Too much work. To roll, check for purity. With mushrooms, I just need to buy and chew them ”

"Well, bon appetit"

You two eat the frozen mushrooms. The taste is not so bad, but it is not a good thing and the smell reminds you of something that had been removed from the forest, which makes sense. Levi suggests that you lie down on the sofa in the living room to watch a movie. There was no need to worry about tomorrow as it would be a day off for both of you.

Lying on Levi's lap and watching the TV, the colors start to shine before your eyes. You didn't remember the white wall looking so vivid, or the pixels on the TV seeming to slow down when you focused on a specific point. It was your house, but it didn't look real. You felt inside a peaceful dream, and inside that dream, you fell asleep forgetting about your nightmare week.

- Armin Arlert

It's your idea. It's Mikasa's birthday party, and Connie had taken some ecstasy pills from whoever wants to use them. So you take two, drag your boyfriend to the bathroom and lock the door.

"You don't have to do it with me if you don't want to, Armin"

"I'm curious too," He says, staring at the little pink pills on your hand.

Armin swallows one, and you do the same after him.

Armin swallows one, and you do the same after him. You want the experience to be as safe as possible. Then both sit in the bathtub and wait for the effect while talking. About half an hour later, you notice how dilated are the pupils of the blond in front of you. Your hearing is a little muffled, and you feel happy and light for no apparent reason. A slight tingle comes and goes through your body, like a wave spreading that sensation across your skin.

You go over to Armin and sit on his lap. He smiles at you, and more than ever, you want to kiss him until you're out of breath, and he's not different from you.

Armin takes your hand between his and brings it to his mouth. He spreads small, short kisses on your hand. You focus on the feeling of his lips running over your skin. You are so damn sensitive even his breathing makes you shiver.

As if a magnetic force pulls you both, you two kiss, letting that soft cloud of pleasure envelop you both. When Armin presses you against his body, deepening the kiss and tasting your mouth, you want to break the laws of physics and be able to occupy the same place as him. You want to become one with him.

And the two of you may not be able to do it, but you certainly tried A LOT in that bathroom.

- Jean Kirstein

Jean is handsome, tall, friendly, and intelligent. So when he starts to be invited to every possible party in college, you’re not surprised. You two have been dating since high school, and you don't feel jealous if he goes to parties alone but he always finds a way to convince you to accompany him with some excuse. Like,  that it would be a lot more fun if you're next to him.

Today, this is one of those times when he convinces you. It's not that you don't like parties kind of, but a party full of strangers doesn't seem like the most attractive thing to you. Then after dancing and talking to people for a long time, he drags you to one of the rooms in the house to give you a well-deserved break.

"Thank you for coming with me," He said, hugging you from behind after closing the door.

"I'm going to want some compensation for that, Kirstein," You said, sitting down in an armchair that was there.

"How about ... That" Jean takes a bag with two white pills out of his pocket and tosses it towards you.

"What is it?"

"LSD"

"What kind of people have you been involved with?" You joke “If your mom knew what you've been up to, Jeanboo”

"Shut up" He sat next to her "If you want to try, I try"

It wouldn't be his first time getting high, he used to smoke weed with Eren in the basement since high school, but it would be yours. As I said, Jean is smart. You knew he had been wanting to try acid for some time. So of course, he had researched on.

Honestly? You are curious but afraid after so many speeches “don’t do drugs, kids”. Jean would never propose anything that could endanger the two of you, which is exactly why he only suggested it when you were alone, and if you said "no" it would be like it never happened.

"Is it just swallowing?"

"Put it under your tongue and let it dissolve"

You lie down on the floor and take it at the same time. It tastes bitter, but unlike any medicine, you've taken in your life.

It takes some time for it to start taking effect, but when it finally did you know. The sound of loud music, muffled by the walls of the room seems to be inside your head now. The colors tremble in front of you, mixing, moving, becoming more intense. You raise your hand towards the ceiling, and you don't feel like that's your hand. Everything seems surreal. You feel calm but active. It's like being very drunk, but the other way around.

Jean pulls you into his chest, and you can hear his heart pumping blood at full speed, like yours. You feel your throat dry, your body sweat, and your hands get cold.

If I could define that feeling with a word, it would definitely be intense.

You spent the night like that. Watching the furniture move and change shape, lying on the floor and without detaching from each other. At some point, you ended up sleeping, and after having the weirdest dream of your life, you woke up with Jean calling you carefully. The sun had already risen, and the house was silent, indicating that the party was over a long time ago.

"How are you feeling?" He asks, helping you to stand.

“Hungry and hungover”

He mumbles something about also being, and you go out to eat at the nearest cafeteria.

#Eren Yaegar #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yaeger x reader #eren yaeger imagine #attack on titan eren #levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi attack on titan #armin x reader #armin arlert x reader #armin x y/n #armin x you #armin arlert #jean x reader #jean krischtein x reader #jean #aot x you #aot x reader #aot imagines #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin x reader

[slowpoke-fics]

Migraine

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Dean x reader, platonic Sam x Reader

Summary: reader is scared to let the boys in and tell them about the chronic migraines she suffers from, after a hunt the truth comes out and you're shocked with how they respond

Warnings: smut, no a too whole lot, two paragraphs on 3000 words, nothing too triggering I think, medicine, as always, I might have missed something read at your o w n risk

A/N: It might be a little long, tbh I dont know what a long/short fic looks like but it's def one I could've split and didn't. I really enjoyed writing this one, am having a little bit of a block after writing six fics in a day. shout out to my first smut in at least five years.

You had been hunting with Sam and Dean for a couple of months, finally feeling like you had earned your place. You didn't feel comfortable letting them know your weaknesses, which is why you didn't tell them you had migraines. You were able to cover for the most part, hiding it from the family you've come to know quite well. Most of the time. Sometimes you just couldn't, the pain overbearing and you just had to stay in bed all day, "It's just cramps." You lied to the boys, who assumed that you were covering your face and curled up like a child because of your embarrassment and pain. Sooner or later they will find out, and that's just what happened on this witch hunt.

You were the first one back into the motel, just wanting to lie down, Sam and Dean following suit. Dean slammed the door, causing you to jump with a jolt of pain to your head, reminding you of the already particularly bad headache you had. Thank god you'd be home soon. You went into the bathroom, wanting to shower after a long day of hunting the witch down, turning the lights off as you shut the door, you sighed, the pain growing. You turned the shower on, making it just a little warm, undressing and sitting down, putting your knees close to yourself, held together by your crossed arms with your head on your knees just enjoying the relief the water brings you.

You must've lost track of time because the next thing you hear is Dean, pounding on the bathroom door, basically screaming, "Y/n, damn, we want hot water!" You groaned, "Fuck off Dean! I'll be out in a minute," you shouted, much harsher than you wanted. You heard Dean grumble but couldn't understand it. Ignoring him, you finished washing your body, head already hurting bad enough it was too much to have to stand and wash, worried you might puke if you moved around more than you needed.

You came out of the shower, laying on the bed, closing your eyes, waiting to leave when you heard Sam speak up. "Did you get hurt and not tell us?" You rolled your eyes, then rose up and looked at Sam. "What?" You were confused, why would you not tell them if you got hurt? You looked over your body for any marks as Dean spoke, "Why else would you take so damn long?" You glared at him, "Sorry, I guess I won't enjoy my showers anymore." You laid back down, Dean looked at you with a pang of guilt you didn't see. He was just, in his own way, trying to check on you.

When both Sam and Dean had showered, you packed up your stuff, not caring if you left anything behind, you led out the door, crawling into the backseat of the impala. As you started rolling out, you realized it was going to be a long trip when the first wave of nausea hit you. Leaning into the window, enjoying the cold, you closed your eyes, knowing sleep would not come.

About two hours into the trip back to the bunker, after not saying a single word, you finally spoke up. "Dean," he looked at you through the rearview mirror, "pull the car over, Sam you gotta let me out." Dean was a little shocked, "What," he said quickly. "Pull the car over, before I hurl in your baby." At that, the car near immediately stopped, Sam quickly allowing you to get out. Almost as soon as your foot hit the ground, before you were even all the way out of the car, vomit spewed from your mouth. Sam was rubbing your back, not sure why you were sick, as you'd never gotten car sick.

Dean got out of the car, circling it to come to your side, worry written all over his face. Dean replaced Sam, Dean whispering something to him that you couldn't hear over the splashing on the road. You heard the car door shut, and felt Dean pull your hair back. Once you were done, Dean, helping you raise up, asked, "What's going on?" You looked at him, worry still plastered on his face.

"Nothing, I just got car sick," still feeling like you could throw up, you took a deep breath. The pain of your headache intensified by the fit. Dean laughed a little, "You've never gotten car sick in your life," shaking his head and adding, "I mean," down to a whisper, "are you pregnant?" You had to laugh a little, regretting as pain soared through your head, "No, Dean, why would you even ask that?"

"Well, in the same night you take an hour longer showering than you usually do and vomit on the side of the road." He smirked, reminiscing, "I mean after our encounter a couple of months ago-" You had to interrupt him, "We fucked once, I also recall telling you I was on birth control." Dean chuckled, "What can I say? I've got strong swimmers." Smug son of a bitch. "I'm not, can we please just go home? I got car sick, it happens."

Dean got very serious, "Not until you tell me what's going on, I'm worried now." Silently panicking, afraid that if you told them you had chronic migraines they'd think you couldn't go on hunts and you'd be alone again, but really not wanting him to worry, you finally spoke up, "It's just a migraine." Dean's face contorted in confusion, "A migraine? Since when do you get migraines?" You looked away from him, toward the trees lining the side of the road, "They're chronic, I've had them for years." Deans face softened, he reached for his passenger door and opened it for you, allowing you to crawl in.

"You all right?" Sam spoke from the backseat, thankful you didn't have to crawl back there again. You just nodded, bringing your knees to your chest and lying back against the window with your eyes closed. Dean started the car and after a few minutes he couldn't keep his mouth shut, "Why didn't you just tell us?" Sam didn't say anything, also wanting to know why this was such a big deal for you to keep a secret.

You took a sharp breath in, not moving a muscle, not even looking at them, "I was afraid you'd tell me I couldn't hunt with you guys anymore." Dean looks at sam through the rearview, the guilt on Sams face matching his own, "We would never-" Dean gripped the wheel a little tighter, "We would have worked around them, so you can be home when they're this bad. It wouldn't be puking on the side of the road horrible." Dean shook his head, reaching across to you to rub your arm, you looked at him, and he jerked his head in a come here motion. You did as you were told, starting to scoot over, he redirected your movements so your head was in his lap. His fingers running through your hair, his hand finding the back of your neck apply just a tiny bit of pressure right at the base of your skull, rubbing up and down softly, alleviating some of the pain, somehow letting you sleep the remaining trip.

When you woke up Sam was already out of the car, Dean opening your door you sleepily sat at the edge of the seat, head throbbing. Putting your hand on your forehead, elbow on the back of his bench seat, eyes still closed, you felt Dean pull your hands to his neck. "No," you jerked back, eyes filled with tears at how bad the morning light was making you feel, "I can walk." Dean huffed, "Shut up and let me carry you." You resigned and put your arms around his neck, laying your head in the crook of his neck, loving how he smelled.

You noticed as he carried you in, every single light that could be out, was. Sam must've done that for you. Opening the door to his room, you started to protest, "Shhh," he gently laid you on the bed and pulled the covers up for you, "just let me." Dean left the room, you're not sure where, but there was a pang of sadness in your chest, wanting to be near him. He came back and placed a cool rag on the back of your neck and one on your forehead, he touched your lips, slowly dragging his thumb over your lips, speaking softly, "Open up, let this pill dissolve on your tongue okay? It might be a little nasty, but it'll help." You took the pill, as it started to dissolve you scrunched up your face at the nasty taste, causing Dean to chuckle.

Dean headed to he door, it was now or never, "Will-" you started and your voice broke a little, you're not sure out of embarrassment or pain, "will you stay?" Dean smiled at you, coming to the side of the bed, crawling under the covers with you, "As long as you want me." You rolled over to him, laying your head on his chest as he put his arm around you. He started playing with your hair, running his fingers up and down your arm.

You wanted to be able to properly enjoy this, but your head hurt so bad. After about fifteen minutes you couldn't help but cry, silently, wanting the headache to go away. Dean noticed, feeling his damp shirt, he didn't say anything, just kissed your head. "They're not normally this bad," you sniffled, "I can usually push through them." Dean started rubbing your back, knowing how nervous you were to tell them, not really understanding why you'd believe they would say you couldn't hunt with them. "Y/n," he contemplated on what to say.

"You don't have to hide anything from us, you don't have to push through them, if you're in pain it's okay, we all have our faults, you don't ever have to be afraid that we'd tell you to leave. You're our family now, we need you. I need you." Your heart skipped a beat, did he really need you? In what way does he need you? "What do you mean?" Dean had to admit it, had to come clean, now or never.

"I don't mean just hunts," you looked up at him, shocked, tear stained eyes which broke his heart. He gently cupped your face, leaning forward and bringing his lips to yours, you instantly responded, pressing into the kiss, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth, he pulled back, "God you taste better than ever." You laughed, laying your head back down, "Okay, I understand." He couldn't do chick flic, it was hard enough for him to say he needed you, but he needed you to know.

Sam came in, replacing your rags, "You want some more medicine?" You nodded, pushing your hand on Dean's chest so he knew he couldn't get up. "Sammy, she'd love that but doesn't want me to get up." Sam laughed, your cheeks flushing, "No problem, Y/n." Dean placed his hand on yours, "I feel like a bath might help, I can run you one." You shrugged, "lotta work." Dean copied your shrug, "Not really, just gotta start the water and put the bubbles in." You instantly responded, talking over him, "Not you, me," you pause and lifted your head to looked at him, eyebrow cocked, "bubbles? I don't have bubbles?" Dean laughed heartily, "Not you, me. My bubbles and my work, I'll do it all, nothing I ain't seen before." He winked at you, smug bastard. You laid your head back down on his chest, shrugging again.

Sam came back, Dean lifting his hand up to take the medicine from Sam as you lifted yourself up and grabbed the cup from him, "It's coffee, it might help." You couldn't turn to face him, didn't want to, "Thank you so much." Sam smiled, but you couldn't see, "Of course, anything." You heard the door close softly as you took your place back on Dean, resting the cup on his chest.

After a few minutes after you had taken the medicine, Dean slid from underneath you, taking the coffee cup, causing you to groan in displeasure. Dean chuckled, and headed toward the bathroom. Once in there he lit a singular candle, started the water, and put the bubbles in. Coming back to you he wrapped his arms around your waist, letting you move your limbs to where they needed to be.

He sat you down on the bathroom sink, while he took his shirt off you removed your own. He reached behind you, unclasping your bra and pulling it off you. Dean wanted to tell you how gorgeous you were, wanted to touch you, but he knew you were more than not up for it. He knows when to be respectful and when to be downright filthy. You slid off the counter, you pushed your pants down, just enough so they could effortlessly fall off of you.

Dean stepped into the tub first, holding his hand out to you. You happily took it, just wanting to lie back down. Dean put your back to him, wrapping an arm around you he slunk to the ground, water splashing lightly. He pulled you back to him, allowing you to lay your head back on him. His fingers found their way to your scalp, applying a small amount of pressure, taking some of your pain. You had no idea that the Dean Winchester could be this, soft.

You just laid there with Dean, letting the water sooth you, letting Dean make this better. You couldn't think, just lay. You don't know how long you laid there, laid in complete silence with Dean taking care of you. "Do you want me to touch you?" Dean spoke, barely loud enough that you could hear him, you hummed, wordlessly asking what he meant. "I did some research while we were in the bed, lots of women have said that masturbating can seriously help." Still speaking softly, making sure that you weren't going to get overstimulated. You thought for a minute, all the times that you had touched yourself in hopes for the pain to lessen-all the times it worked. "Mhmm." Dean just continued rubbing your scalp, "Say it." A twinge of need pooled inside you, "Touch me Dean, I want it."

Dean needed no further encouragement, he needed to know this is what you wanted, needed you to admit it. He wasted no time, slowly working his hands to your nipples, fingers teasing, tickling their way to touch you. He twirled your nipples between his thumb and index finer, gently pulling them up, eliciting a whimper from you. "Don't worry good girl, I'm gonna make you feel better." Deans hands trailed to your waist, pulling you up a couple of inches, giving him better access.

Dean's right hand tiptoed to your clit, gently rubbing your bundle of nerves, rubbing circles until your hips bucked forward, wanting more. Dean's left hand moving to your lower stomach, resting lazily. You opened your eyes and stared into his eyes, a soft moan falling from your lips, "More." Dean smirked, quickly raising his left hand to push your head back, nonverbally communicating for you to rest, just enjoy this, then returning his hand to it's home.

Dean's thick fingers slid inside you with a thrilling stretch, you gasped, forgetting how good he filled you up. "Good girl, I know you can take it," Dean started to pump his fingers slowly, curling them upwards to hit just the right spot. "Mmmm," you hummed, almost singing, "please." Dean sped up, his fingers hitting your g-spot, palm rubbing your clit, you clenched tightly around him, slowing him down but making him damn near growl. You bucked your hips forward, panting, squeezing his wrist with one hand and grabbing the side of the tub with the other. "Gonna make you cum," Dean nipped your earlobe, a whimper. "Gonna show you that you need me," moved to your neck, a moan. "Gonna remind you what it feels like to gush around me," another nibble, another kiss. A desperate desire pooled in your belly, pussy clenching, clit throbbing. "You gonna cum for me? Cum on my fingers like a good girl?" Dean pressed his left hand down, the pressure sending you over the edge, you spasmed around his fingers, legs shaking, juices leaking out of you and into the tub. He let you ride it out, until your legs had calmed and you had stopped pulsating around his fingers. He moved his hands back to your scalp, continuing the previous scalp massage.

You tried to catch your breath, his thick cock resting between your legs, you could almost see it throb. You reached in-between your legs, starting to pump his cock but he moved your hand. "No," he kissed your lips, then your forehead, "once you're feeling better we can discuss it." You moved your hand to rest on his thigh, "can we just lay here a minute?" He hummed in approval, letting you close your eyes and enjoy the moment of bliss.

After awhile, you had almost fallen asleep, Dean started to get up, slowly dragging himself out of the tub careful not to disturb you too much. Once Dean had found the towel in the under lit room he reached his hand to you, helping you stand up. You stepped out of the tub, reaching for the towel but he pulls it just out of your reach. Dean sighs, "You may feel a little better but I still want to take care of you," starting to pat you dry, making sure to get the dripping tips of your beautiful hair, "I want to, please let me." You let him finish drying you off, let him slip his own shirt and boxers on you, wondering when he'd have gotten them. You even let him carry you back to his bed. Once he laid down, you were immediately beside him, filling the perfect spot next to him. "Sleep." He commanded, it was not a suggestion, and you did.

When you woke up, your back was facing Dean, his chest pressed to you, arm wrapped tightly around you like you'd run. You turned a little to look at his sleeping form, surprised when his eyes fluttered open, "Mornin', any better?" You turned towards him, placing your leg between his, your own arm underneath his and wrapped around him, "Manageable." You laid there, for how long you weren't sure. Eventually Dean spoke up, "We should go get some breakfast." You nodded, reluctantly rolling to the side of his bed, swinging your legs over.

You and Dean walked to the kitchen, Sam already cooking, hearing you cross the threshold into the kitchen he spun around. Upon realizing you guys had gotten up he immediately grabbed the coffee pot and filled up the cup sitting next to a few pills on the counter and creamer. You gently chuckled, "What a saint," you slapped Deans arm. "I told you," Dean started as you sat down and he moved to get his own cup of coffee, "we could've helped you manage."

You started fiddling your thumbs, not able to look at the boys, "I know-sigh-I was afraid, I'm sorry, I know it's dumb but-" looking to Dean, "I was afraid I'd be too much, lose the family I've come to love. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you." Sam turned to you, pausing from the breakfast. "It's not dumb, Y/n. If you're hurting, if you're struggling, if you're afraid, we face it together, all three of us. Because you're right, we're family, and you belong here. Your problems are ours." Dean beside you now, hand placed on your back, thumb drawing small figure eight's, "We can help you, face anything this hellhole throws at us, stick together and say fuck it together," a kiss placed on your lips, pressing into you with loving force, "you just have to let me."

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