#iii. wc;; < 1k

[daycourtofficial]

I got cursed like Eve got bitten - part III

Pairing: Azriel x Rhysand’s sister!reader | WC: 1k | warnings: none

Summary: reports of a rare powered fae popping up in Illyria send Azriel and Rhysand on a journey through the past, unraveling a truth they thought long buried

Previous part | Next part | Masterlist

Feyre laughed as Rhysand had told her about Cassian’s most recent disastrous hookup. The female came by the townhouse, knocking furiously before stalking inside past the entire family, and serenaded all of them in song in hopes of finding true love with Cassian.

Rhys had to politely escort her out before telling Cassian to please limit his dating life to females who did not have singing ambitions.

Feyre’s voice was soft as they sat at the table, Rhys waving to the waiter to fill up their wine glasses. “What about Azriel? Does he have any awkward hookup stories?”

Rhys’s shoulders locked up at her question, swallowing harshly as he looked down to his glass. The light air between them sank quickly, the uncomfortable silence making Feyre antsy as the waiter topped off their glasses.

“No. No he does not.”

That conversation was all Feyre had known for a long, long time about Azriel’s love life. For years she would look up to find him watching her and Rhysand, Cassian and Nesta, and eventually Elain and Lucien, his eyes not lingering for long before quickly looking away. For years she had wanted to ask, but everytime she had the chance, she dropped the subject. 

She watched for so long as Azriel adored his friends, never extending that adoration to anyone outside of the Inner Circle. 

Once she had broached the subject with Cassian, playfully suggesting to him the two of them should set Azriel up on a date. Cassian had sobered up immediately, looking directly at Feyre before telling her simply, “do not ever make such suggestions again.”

Until today.

Feyre had walked into the foyer, expecting her mate and brother-in-law to be there. Rhys had tugged on their bond, but hadn’t sent words of explanation to her. Blue eyes moved between Azriel and Rhysand before landing on the female between them, brows quirked at the sight of her. She was pretty - an Illyrian nose and lips, dark curls down her back. Her ears were the first giveaway - sharpy, pointed tips that had dark curls tucked behind them. When she opened her eyes, violet eyes met Feyre’s, the High Lady didn’t have to wait for Rhys’s voice to fill in the gaps. The similar features to her mate would have been enough to give it away, if it weren’t also for the fact Feyre had just completed a set of portraits for Rhys - one to honor his deceased mother and sisters. 

She just had them hung up in the drawing room three doors away. 

Feyre took in the way they were both keeping some distance from her, but Azriel’s body was slightly in front of hers, ready to push her back if necessary. As if anyone, even Feyre, could be a threat.

She looked to her mate and watched the way his eyes kept flitting to her back at the empty space behind her, his hand lifting slightly and hovered over her back before his eyes met Feyre’s. 

Don’t tell her who we think she is.

Feyre wanted to ask him what the hell was going on, but the female in front of them moved forward, bowing at the waist deeply before addressing her. “High Lady.”

Rhys wanted to roll his eyes, the action a repeated one whenever you two bickered.

“My apologies, your grace.”

The bend of your waist just so, barely perceptible, a subtle way of saying this is obligation, not respect.

“Alright, asshole.”

The memory would have made him laugh if he weren’t watching it play out again before him. Feyre cleared her throat, moving forward and extending a hand out. “Welcome to our home.”

You took her hand, a firm grip that made Feyre nod. Rhys’s voice was soft in Feyre’s mind, we thought it might be better for you to show her around.

Feyre masked the surprise she felt, instead offering an elbow out to you. “May I show you around?”

Everything inside of Azriel vibrated as he had to stay in place, a mere observer as Feyre escorted you down the hallway, his restraint on his shadows loosening once you were out of sight. The dark tendrils slithered across the room, shadows clumped in the spots you were, basking in your scent. Several of them made their way to the path you took with Feyre, leaving footprints in your wake. 

“Feyre won’t let anything happen to her.”

Azriel’s eyes were practically black as he gazed at Rhysand, his throat dry as he spoke, the first words he had spoken since seeing you in that bar.

“It’s her, I know it is.”

And before Rhys could respond, Azriel disappeared into a swarm of shadows, several still lingering in his absence. Rhys watched them swirl about the room, watching them flit about in all the places you had been.

Azriel rematerialized in a place long untouched, his shadows slinking off of him and coating the ground at the comfort they felt at being back. The sounds of the Sidra helped drown out the ringing in his head as he walked the overgrown path, his shadows attempting to push down some of the grass to make his movements easier. His feet grew heavier with each step, making his way through the wards and the threshold, until the shadowsinger found himself standing in the front hallway of the house.

From here, he could see a sliver of the living room and of the kitchen. It was a limited view - one he spent many nights taking in, allowing his shadows to echo your voice through the house, allowing himself just one moment to play pretend.

From this vantage point, he couldn’t see who was inside the house. If he took a step forward, he would see the empty couches, the layers of dust that had accumulated since his last visit. He would see how dark and lifeless this place had come to be with only him to fill the space.

But he can’t see all of that yet. Instead his feet planted themselves in the spot, his shadows carrying your voice around like a song. 

Because for the first time in centuries, they finally had new notes to play.

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @milswrites @the-golden-jhope @hannzoaks @secretlyhers

Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin @magicstrengthandcourage

series taglist: @doodlebugg16-blog @ceoofyearning @saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofbatboydreams @willowpains @anarchii @i-am-infinite @bsenpai @sstrohma @teenagellamaangel @allthatisbuck1917

Thanks for reading ❣️

[ttjisung]

back 2 u 𝜗𝜚

p. jisung x fem!reader smau - exes to lovers

in which jisung does his best to avoid you, his ex, until he realizes his mistake far too late cw: suggestive themes, bad angst, cheating, swearing

i'm not going back, back, back, back, back

masterlist 𝜗𝜚

prologue

chapter i. (wc: 1.1k)

chapter ii.

chapter iii. (wc: .8k)

chapter iv.

chapter v.

chapter vi. (wc: .9k)

chapter vii.

chapter viii. (wc: 1.6k)

chapter ix.

chapter x.

chapter xi. (wc: 2.1k + social media near the end)

chapter xii. (wc: 1k + social media near the end)

chapter xiii. (wc: 2k)

chapter xiv.

chapter xv.

chapter vxi. (wc: 2.1k)

coming soon!

[lodeddiperactivate]

DOAWK/RODRICK HEFFLEY MASTERLIST

I hate you more [part i] wc: 1K [part ii] wc: 1.8K [part iii] wc: 737 [part iv] wc: 1.6K [part v] wc: 1.2K Rodrick's confession wc: 401 Rodrick, you, prom! ♡ wc: 356 Falling out (timeskip with you and Rodrick) wc: 867 Rodrick imagine based off a tweet wc: 238

[mazeofyeni]

( 𝓓rabble ) the final straw ft. lee jeno ̨ ! ୨୧ 一 act iii ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ after the fan that had been stalking yoonchae finally manages to find her apartment she finally breaks down  ヾ

time ・ december 2023 p. yoonchae ・ sasaeng ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ angst ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ ‎ ‎ ‎stalking , anxiety attacks ‎ ‎ wc ・ ‎1k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ yoonchae's story

「 yoochaes masterlist 𖹭 」

when fans first began to show up to her apartment; yoonchae was moved from her apartment, ordered to stay in a hotel for a while, of course she didn't stay in a hotel, she slept on chenles' couch— but she soon missed her own bed, and her cat; so the company thought it would be okay if she did moved back into her apartment as long as she was careful of her surroundings, and everything was fine — up until that day.

she didn't feel like anything was out of the ordinary except the weight from the day on her; she had gotten off of a hectic schedule, a staff member bringing her back from the company. her street was quiet, her building mostly consisted of families. that's why she felt bad when the fans would show up. she thanked the manager, he even offered to walk her up which she declined. “it's late , you should go home and get some rest.” she climbed out of the car , waving off the manager, who waited for her to enter the apartment doors before driving off.

she pressed the elevator button , sending a text to her mother who she had neglected to respond to due to being busy , while waiting for it to come down, pressing her floor making her way up to her apartment. “hi babies.” her cats waited, purring at her feet. “did you eat?” she closed the door, making sure it was locked. “i missed you today.” she made her way to her room. “mommy's gonna take a shower, she'll see you in a few.”

finally able to rest, she made her way to the kitchen for some food, her face in her phone as she waited for the food to heat up, her phone ringing; she sighed realizing it was another random phone number, she got these at least 40 times a day, no matter how many times she changed it; called the so called fans out, it never worked.

sitting her phone down; about to grab her food when there was a knock on her door; there's never a knock on her door, her managers almost never come up and most of not all the neos have the passcode to her apartment thanks to hyuck. she didn't say anything; luckily she had a doorbell camera.

“hello?” she said , the person didn't say anything, she couldn't see the person either, their face was covered by a mask and a hat , they also had a hood on. “yoonchae?” she didn't recognize the voice , and that's when her heart dropped, did someone get into her apartment building? the person began banging on the door , harsher , she could see the door shaking.

the person outside the door was relentless, pounding at the door , screaming her name and other obscure things, her neighbors probably hearing this; she was terrified. she ran to the kitchen grabbing her phone to dial for the police. “please help.” she didn't realize she was crying until she tasted the saltiness on her lips. “please come quickly.” she sobbed into the phone. “please.”

hanging up the phone , she ran to her room to hide and wait for the police , she dialed the only number she could see through her tears, and the closest person to her. “yoonchae?” she heard jenos voice. “jeno.” she cried. “th-there's someone out there.”

“out where? where are you?” he asked. “my apartment, they got in somehow.” she said. “how? how the hell did they find your number.” he said. “i don't know, they must've followed me up , but there was no one in the elevator.” she said. “i called the police and they haven't shown up yet , I'm so scared , they're pounding on the door.”

she could feel the tightness in her chest , she had been experiencing panic attacks ever since they figured out her address the first time. “hey calm down , wait for the police to get there,” he said. “im coming now i'm close by.”

the banging on the door came to a quick halt, the person probably running away. “the person probably realized we were coming and ran away.” the police arrived soon; jeno must've informed the manager because he showed up around the time the police did , along with himself. “i should've walked you up, i didn't even see anyone following behind you.”

the manager talked to the police, while jeno comforted her but she couldn't even let out a sigh of relief , her whole body was shaking with fear , it felt like everything was was finally coming to a hilt , the stress from everything, the crazy fans constantly harassing her , this seemed to be the breaking point , she couldn't hear anything, even when the police arrived , it felt like she was having a out of body experience , they could barely get anything out the girl. “i don't think she's doing good.”

“she's had schedule after schedule , she hasn't had a day off in like 6 months.” the manager said. “i talked to the rest of the managers and they informed the CEO, we all think she should get some help.” he said, rubbing his temples.

“i don't need help.” she said. “yeah you do.” jeno said, he could see she needed it , hell everyone could see she needed it , even her mother who was miles away could tell just from hearing her voice; she could still remember her mother crying telling her to slow down a bit , she'd been working non stop for the past 4 years without any breaks.

“if you don't get help it won't end well , you're trying , but everyone can see it.” jeno said. “look at you still shaking , panic attacks after every show isn't normal.” he rubbed her shoulders calmly. “i already talk to the CEO , they think it's what's best.” the manager said , she sighed nodding. “you have to move out of here as well, it's clearly not safe now that they know your apartment number.”

“you can stay in a hotel until the company finds you a new apartment.” you packed a bag. “jaemin wouldn't mind 2 new cats for a minute.” jeno said , watching you pack a bag. “it's just until they find you a new one.” he said. “don't worry.”

“it's gonna be okay.” jeno wrapped his arms around the girl. “get the help you need, go see your grandmother in jeju.” he said. “maybe you can go visit your family.” he said. “it'll be okay.” he kissed her forehead, something he did even when they were young. “the manager is gonna take you to a hotel, i’ll get your babies to jaemins.”

it was quite ride back to the hotel , the managers making phone calls to all the necessary people , they found a nice hotel for the night, her mother was stressed over the text messages, she was begging for her to see if she could come home just for a while , she told her she'd come home if she could but she needed to receive her treatment.

the manager rode with her all the way up to her room. “stay here for a couple days, clear your head until the treatments start,” he said , sitting the bags you packed on the hotel room floor. “the company will find you a better apartment , more secure than the old one.” was the last thing he said , before he left the girl.

she didn't want to be alone , but she didn't want to call anyone , she didn't want to be a burden to anyone. jeno did call her to make sure she was alright, the rest of the boys were told what happened , but the managers told them to not bother her until the morning.

for now she was alone , all alone in her hotel room , feeling ten times as worse as she was already feeling.

it was gonna be a long recovery for the the girl.

©MAZEOFYENI

[catscidr]

// aquarium (i want you dead or alive) //  

i. note — hihihi enjoy this short thing i did as a warmup to get my brain juices flowing _(:3」∠)_ this was inspired by aquarium from funny boy matt watson (its a good song trust)…..heard the chorus n went "wow this sure does remind me of someone" ii. includes — modern au akademiya (university) student dottore, gn!reader  iii. cw — stalking and yandere tendencies, obsession, smoking, blood, homicidal thoughts. no dialogue; just dottore nd his thoughts. also not quite proofread ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ iv. wc — 1k -> now also on ao3 (b˙◁˙ )b

It’s hard to ignore things when your brain is so hellbent on making you notice. 

Forcing your eyes to flit over every single inch of a room you walk in, making your legs carry you towards something that, unconsciously, caught your attention because they just happened to remind you of something. 

When it’s curiosity driven it isn’t too bad, since the worst that can happen is a slight pang of disappointment when your curiosity isn’t sated from your inquisition.

It’s an entirely different problem when the urge to look for something specific is caused by a deep-rooted obsession with something. 

Someone. 

And it’s even worse when you see things in places where they simply are not. 

Walking out of the Akademiya to seek shelter at the dingy bus stop the city can’t bother fixing, catching a glimpse of the poster on the side of it. A model posing with a bottle of perfume stares back, the advertisement almost mocking him as he stops walking shy of being under the bus stop’s roof. 

Its face morphs into one he’s all too familiar with instead of being a stranger’s, and his mouth inhales more air than it needs to. 

Stepping into the squalid convenience store near his flat to grab an energy drink and a pack of cigarettes, wordlessly paying for the items until the cashier says ‘have a nice evening’ in a tired, unenthusiastic tone. Hands faltering for a millisecond as he awkwardly grabs what he purchased, immediately taking out and lighting up a dart to exhale the agitation simmering inside his gut. 

The pitch of their voice was uncannily close to yours. 

Slamming his apartment door shut and kicking his shoes off, dragging himself into his room to make good use of the energy drink he just bought. Opening his laptop only to be met with the sight of sanguine boring into the screen before it dissipates and the screen lights up, displaying his hard work. 

Curtains drawn at all hours of the day, his bedroom was no stranger to gloom. Though void of any natural luminescence, multiple copies of your face smile back at him. 

He exhales smoke through his nose, tapping the excess ash forming at the tip of his cigarette into a tray and takes a sip of his drink, never blinking. 

... 

To him, not having any classes together didn’t matter at all. Didn’t even make a single difference. 

None. 

Because sitting in the same lecture hall as you wouldn’t matter or change a thing, since he would be just as far away in that hypothetical than if he were in a different class.  

Which he is. 

His grades are high enough that he can afford to ditch his class to loiter in the vicinity of your classroom instead. You don’t speak much, but he doesn’t particularly care since it allows him to listen. To memorize the sound of your chair screeching as quietly as it can behind you, memorize your tendency to be one of the first people to leave the class in order to rush to your next one. 

Memorize how you fail to take notice of your surroundings on days like these where you have a class right after the other, as he watches your legs work overtime to carry you to the other side of the building to make it in time. 

It lets him think, undisturbed. 

... 

He never musters up the courage to speak to you. You only spoke because he was careless and accidentally made himself noticeable in the sea of students one too many times, and he apparently looked so out of place that you sparked up a conversation with him despite not being the type to reach out first. 

Maybe God was playing with him by making you do something he hadn’t predicted. The conversation itself was brief, but long enough for him to want to talk to you again. 

And for you to want to talk to him again, too. 

...And talk to you again he does when you spot his minty bedhead in the library and sit across from him, making his poor heart leap out of his chest, bringing one hand down to close his laptop screen a little too harshly. Bile rose in his throat; too engrossed in his research, he hadn’t heard you approach him at all. A fault he’ll have to rectify later. 

After you apologize in his stead to the students that gave you both a side-eye for making noise, God how he wants to pluck each and every single one of their eyes out, you take out your own laptop from your bag and open it up to get to work alongside him. 

He tries to keep his mind at bay for now, wanting to enjoy his impromptu date with you. 

... 

Washing blood off his clothes has always been a hassle, especially considering how he had to walk to the laundromat to do so. He somehow always has a stain somewhere on his person, whether it’s from accidentally hurting himself or from his proneness to getting nosebleeds. 

Or other reasons. 

Standing over the sink, he watches the liquid drip from his nose down to the porcelain basin. Observing the pattern it makes as it slides down the drain, watching the vibrant red turn into slithers of watery vermillion. He clutches the edges of the sink tightly, letting himself fantasize about assaulting the students from a few hours ago. Cleaning their blood off of his shirt, then watching his clothes tumble in the washing machine in the laundromat. 

Now that he was alone, he shuts his eyes and sighs. He refused to let himself think anything less than pure thoughts around you lest you somehow gain the ability to read minds and decide to read his, if they could even be called that. 

They were more akin to promises than anything else. 

Opening his eyes, he’s met with more red than white, his nose’s blood having taken up more surface area than the sink itself. Some had even gotten on his previously pristine collar. 

Zandik glances up, staring at his stained button-up in the mirror. 

Maybe he wouldn’t wash your blood off of his clothes. 

[meltedbluecaterpillar]

Hemophiliac

you are here - ch. ii - ch. iii - ch. iv

A/N: This is a commission for @twisted-desires . I am a big fan of vampires and this will be another male!reader. The AU is... It is a little modern... But more... A form of the 50's or 60's in a way. Don't think too hard about it...

tags: vamp!male!reader x noble!riddle rosehearts, aged up au (Riddle is 20+, reader is 200+) wc: 1k+

Riddle sobbed quietly, stuffing some of his clothes into a small leather suitcase. Big round tears rolled down his cheeks as he wiped at his face with a pale shaking hand. “She’s so… Just so awful to me…” He whispered under a croaked breath. Hiccuping softly he crossed the room to grab his coin purse from his vanity, adding it to his suitcase as well. Riddle Rosehearts has always obeyed his mothers wishes. He has always done what she asks of him even if he didn’t want to. But this was something he would refuse to do.

His mother is the most well respected doctor in the country. Especially being a woman in the field of medicine while his father was off in another country for reasons he couldn’t get answers to. He wondered if the reason his mother arranged a marriage without Riddle’s knowledge was because of this. Just telling him over lunch this afternoon that he was set to marry a woman he has never met before. “Just because I’m twenty years old doesn’t mean I want to marry… She married when she was twenty three… Maybe I want to wait…” Riddle grumbled bitterly to himself as he zipped the suitcase shut and looked around his large bedroom. It was illuminated by a yellowing gas lamp chandelier high above him. 

Everything he owned was selected by his mother. Clothes, books, the very bareboned decor… Even the cream and olive colored wallpaper with fern lace. He had nothing of his own that he could truly feel attached to in this large and lonely manor. It was hardly a home. It was just a place he lived in. That is why it felt so much easier to run away under the cover of the gray, cottony clouds and the blacked out moon. He sniffled away one final time before grabbing a thin necklace with a small silver cross, and his thick, red, traveling cloak. The sky was starting to rumble, and the delicate tap of rain pelted against his bedroom windows. 

It was dark. The moon had vanished as he slipped past the servants quarters, down the marble stairs, and out the heavy doors of the manor. He held tightly to his leather suitcase, keeping it protected beneath his cloak as the rumbling grew louder and the rain fell harder. Riddle cautiously avoided the puddles as he raced up to the iron gate. His body was thin enough for him to slip through, but his bag was the problem. He pulled and grunted, attempting to yank the bag through the bars before slipping and landing on the soaked ground. His bag tumbled into a large mud puddle on the other side. He would be traveling even lighter than expected. 

Riddle despised the dirt, but he had no time to complain. He had to leave now or be trapped in a loveless marriage with a woman he didn’t know. The young man kneeled in the softened earth, sticking his arm through the water soaked bars to pull his bag close enough to dig through. Riddle would only take his coin purse and abandon the rest. It didn’t matter. All of his clothes are things his mother bought him. Riddle rose to his feet, the small purse tight in his icy fingers as he began to walk down the lonely dirt path. No destination in mind. Only the rain and cold kept him company as the manor shrank behind him. Riddle had never done anything like this. He had fantasized about running away. Of vanishing into thin air with no traces of him ever existing. But everyone reaches a breaking point. This was his. 

It was exhilarating, 

This newfound freedom to wander the world as a proper adult. No one would tell him what to do. Riddle could live in the forest among the deer and the little bluebirds. He could bathe in the rivers and nap in a patch of clover. All very idealistic despite the stormy weather. But that would be for the future when he abandons the modern world for a life among the trees. For now he needs somewhere to hide from the rain. “If I seek shelter from Trey… My mother will surely find out. Pinkā is completely out of the question.” He murmured as he found himself nearing a wooded area. If he camped out in a cave for the night he would have better luck in the morning. With the moon and stars hidden it was impossible to see anything. So he would just have to pray. The foliage was thick, branches swatting against Riddle’s legs as he continued his trek. His boots continuously became stuck in the soft soil, and it became harder and harder to walk among the dark trees. Riddle didn’t mind. He actually was enjoying himself. 

For the first time in his life he was able to go somewhere alone. Even if he had no real destination in mind, his mother wasn’t holding his hand. Riddle is an adult and he wants to be seen as one. As he walked, he made it to a clearing. One he couldn’t recall ever seeing near the manor in the past. A small manor, appearing ancient and gothic with its architecture. A large iron gate surrounded the area but Riddle was confident in his thin frame to squeeze through the bars. The cobblestone path clicked beneath his heels as he avoided the larger puddles. The plants all looked dead, yellowing and bone dried under the sun. Riddle walked closer and closer, feeling the chill from the sleet starting to settle into his bone marrow. Maybe the place was abandoned? He now stood at the doorstep, staring at the heavy oak double doors with a trembling fist. He would knock and announce himself. If no one answers he will just let himself in. It isn’t a crime to break into an abandoned building. Riddle will just say he was sleepwalking. 

Before Riddle could muster any more courage, the door suddenly opened and a masculine frame greeted him. But something felt wrong. Riddle just hasn’t pieced together what.

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Hello! I hope you're doing well! I've been reading your blog for the past few days and have really enjoyed it, so thank you for all your work! If you have time, I would love to see Hanma added to your Hand Her Over Series.

Hand Her Over III: Hanma Shuji x Fem!Reader

wc: 1k

tw: smut, gun play, angst, the WERKS

masterlist

Hand Her Over Megapost

The laugh is loud, riotous, almost unhinged.

But Manjiro doesn't flinch.

When Hanma finally settles down, Mikey adjusts his shirt, picking at invisible lint before clearing his throat. "So?"

"No," Hanma drawls, kicking his feet onto the desk and leaning as far back as he can in his chair. "I've been with y/n for nearly two decades. I'd never agree to that." Mikey sighs, placing his hands back in his pockets and staring at the jovial man.

"I had a feeling you would say that." Hanma laces his fingers together in his lap, not moving an inch. Mikey, however, looks up at the ceiling just as something scrapes across it, and the sound of stumbling footsteps rattles the flimsy chandelier right behind him. There's a loud thump and then the sounds of arguing.

Hanma's eyes flick from the ceiling back to Manjiro, but he remains stoic. Mikey and he stare at each other for a long while, each daring the other to move or make a noise. Hanma begins to calculate how long it'll take him to knock Mikey out cold and get to you.

Less than a minute.

"You don't have that kind of time," Manjiro whispers, knowing. "In thirty seconds, the sedative will wear off."

"That leaves me with plenty of time to fuck you up."

"Not nearly," Mikey admits, pulling a gun out of the back of his pants. "Not if I shoot you where you sit."

"You've never been one for guns," Hanma jokes, tilting his head to the side. The gun follows his movements. "You don't want to fight it out for old time's sake?"

"Not really." Even Kisaki hadn't been this cold-blooded. Hanma thought if he just dug his hands into the inkpot one last time, he'd be able to walk away with the girl, the money, and the clean record. "And I don't trust you."

"I've never cheated you before, Mikey."

"You just did."

Hanma has to think and fast.

"We'll share." Mikey pauses, finger resting on the trigger. "Take me up there. I'll share her with you. She'll be more at ease with me there, anyways. You get what you want, and so do I."

"You want to watch me." A statement, not a question. Fuck no.

"I'll go in there, get her to be okay with it, and we can trade off." Say no. Mikey lowers the gun, the depraved look on his face not wavering.

"Get her to agree first." Hanma's feet drag like lead weights as he climbs the stairs toward where they're keeping you. Stay calm, stay calm. She'll be scared if you don't stay calm.

The door opens to a plain room, and you're on the floor, gagged and bound, tears leaking out of your eyes. When you see him, you perk up, breathing raggedly and trying to speak. "Get her to agree," Mikey reminds Hanma, standing back far enough that you can't see him.

"Hey, princess..." Hanma stoops low and unties the blood-smeared cloth around your wrists. "It's okay. It's alright." Once your hands are free, you push yourself up, shaking and shivering. Hanma moves to undo the gag next, but Mikey huffs a soft,

"Leave it." Hanma pulls his hands back and you reach for the gag, but he takes your hands in his. He inhales deeply, attempting to exude calm and confidence.

"Did they hurt you?" You shake your head, lips trembling. "Good, good." Tears run down your face in rivulets, and Hanma reaches up to wipe them away. "Listen to me. You have to be a good girl for me."

You nod rapidly, sniffing. "Be a good girl for me." Hanma takes the cloth that was around your wrist and places it over your eyes. You break into a fresh set of tears, staining the flowered - not blood-tainted - cloth. "Be a good girl." He finally reaches for the gag again, and it seems Mikey knows what he's about to do because he doesn't stop him.

Hanma takes the scarf out of your mouth, and you begin babbling incoherently, trying to understand, trying to make sense of it all. Hanma ties the scarf around your wrists as you burst into tears again, sobbing woefully and wrenching his heart in two. Hanma pulls you close and kisses your wet cheeks, trying to savor every single second he has alone with you before the monster walking into the room can steal you away.

"I love you," Hanma whispers softly. "I love you so much. Just be good."

"Han-ma," you choke out, mucus smearing on his shirt. "Shu-ji, what's happening, I--" Mikey cocks the gun again, and Hanma moves you so you're chest to chest while you're on your knees. Mikey's hands move to flip up your skirt, and your voice breaks off as you begin to shout for help, shout for anyone, shout for someone--

But Hanma holds you against him, closing his eyes and listening to you cry out in anguish. His ears can't even make sense of the words anymore, and his tinnitus takes over, muting the rest. Tears drop onto his face, and Hanma wonders if he could just block all of this out and pretend it's not happening as you remind him of a trapped animal attempting to break free.

The exact moment when Mikey penetrates you shocks him back into reality, however, and your body goes rigid. Hanma presses your face into his chest, holding you tight and whispering, "I'm sorry," over Manjiro's grunting and huffing. The gun is still pointed in your general direction, and Hanma watches as Manjiro loses himself in the moment.

"It's almost over," Hanma murmurs, but you've long gone silent. "I promise." When Mikey grunts and finishes, he puts the safety back on his gun, zips himself up, and leaves. Hanma waits until he can't hear footsteps - and then another ten minutes - until he shifts up off the ground and scoops you into his arms.

In a daze, he walks down the stairs and to his car, where it's waiting for him in the garage. No one sees him, no one is there to notice him. But for once... for once, Hanma wishes there was someone there. He slides you into the passenger seat, takes off your blindfold and wrist tie, and shuffles to the other side of the car, barely noticing the semen that's dripped onto his pant leg.

"I'm gonna get you home and get you cleaned up," he hoarsely promises you, ignoring his own tears. "I'll make it right. I promise."

[ssaemilyhotchner]

letter: X | prompt: X-ray, "Exit Wounds" | wc: 0.5k a/n: And now, for something a little bit different. I’ve been on a 5+1 kick lately and while this isn’t exactly that, it’s not too dissimilar, either. Would love to know what you think! Post-ep for 5x21, “Exit Wounds.”

OTHER 1K DRABBLES | Read on AO3 Join the celebration by requesting a letter!

Please do not repost (reblogs welcome) or otherwise claim as your own.

--

(i) hearing

He knows it isn’t possible, but in his memory the sounds are simultaneous: her gasp of surprise, the crack of the gunshot, her exclamation at the pain of the bullet tearing through her. Someone is screaming for her, too.

Later, he realizes it was him. Him screaming her name, Emily foreign on his tongue.

(ii) sight

He’s the one to take her to the hospital. The one who looks through her X-rays, tracing his fingers along the black-and-white images of the shattered bone in her shoulder. It’ll take forever to heal; comminuted fractures always do. But she’ll be fine, the doctor says.

He watches as she takes in the Rorschach blot of her blood on his jacket, her eyes lifeless and unseeing.

She’ll be fine.

(iii) smell

Months later, they’re settling into their shared hotel room in Alaska when he hears it: a sharp hiss and low mutter of fuck from the bathroom. When he rounds the corner, there’s a split second where he’s confused, not quite putting the puzzle pieces together: Emily stripped down to a tank top, staring reproachfully at herself in the mirror. Sliding a strap off to look at her shoulder, fingers prodding and searching. 

She disappears shortly afterward, and it’s only when he smells the faintest trace of cigarette smoke on the otherwise crisp winter air that he knows where she’s gone.

He finds her outside.

“Your shoulder is still hurting, isn’t it?”

It’s not really a question. She knows he saw; she’d felt his presence in the bathroom doorway even before seeing his reflection. She inhales deeply, then extinguishes the cigarette with a swift ground of her boot. “It flares in the cold,” she confirms.

“Can I do anything to help?”

She drops her gaze to his hands then. The last time she’d taken a good look at them, they had been staunching her bleeding, his palms tannined and slick.

“There is something,” she nods.

(iv) touch

He hasn’t so much as hugged her ever, their physical contact limited to the absentminded press of her hand to his arm or back as she moves around him in a crowded space, or the brush of fingers when exchanging files. But his hand is warm on the bare skin of her shoulder now, the stroke of his thumb sure and firm as he kneads her painful muscle. He finds the trigger point quickly and her eyes fall shut, a whimper slipping past her lips. The needy little sound has him biting back a curse.

Her eyes are twin dark pools when she opens them, minutes later.

“Thanks,” she whispers, and her voice is thick.

(v) taste

He dreams of her that night. Dreams of pressing his lips to her shoulder then her mouth. In his dream, she tastes like star anise and ash from her cigarette, but like something sweeter and flimsier, too. Relief, maybe.

He wakes with her name on his lips.

[r4ven321]

lyney x fem!reader (masterlist + ch.4, ch.5, ch.6) 𓆩♣️𓆪 here with me

Lyney woke up. Back at the House of the Hearth. Back at 'home'.

He was back. Here. Without you.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗ post i: welcome to wonderland post ii: down the rabbit hole post iii: a tea party most wondrous 𓆩♡𓆪 INTERMISSION chapter iv: garden of red roses chapter v: the courtroom chapter vi: just a dream ╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

﹒⪩⪨﹒wc: 3,319 (total. 500-800 words per ch) ﹒⪩⪨﹒requests: open ﹒⪩⪨﹒synopsis: A cute and sad fic based on Wonderland about a year-long relationship between fatui!reader and Lyney. contains an even amount of fluff, angst, and comedy and a whopping amount of 0% smut and archive warnings! I know! Amazing! ﹒⪩⪨﹒a/n: friendly reminder you can click the chapter index to go between chapters for the people who think there's only one chapter. I know you guys exist. tumblr loves short chapters so i kept the chapters below 1k words. I'm at a hotel as of writing this so that's that?

[asvterias]

𝘉𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘉𝘪𝘹𝘭𝘦𝘳 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

⋆ ꉂ drabbles — 1k to 2k wc

i. Complete Fools In Love

Being consumed with schoolwork and deadlines, Bridget is in a grumpy mood but it’s nothing that her lovely girlfriend, [Name] can’t fix.

ii. Cute and Cheesy Confessions

Having a secret crush isn’t the best way to go about your feelings but as for [Name] it’s definitely a miracle worker.

iii. Good Enough For Her

Despite being in a relationship with Bridget, Skylar still playfully flirts with you at a party. Your girlfriend instantly becomes overdriven with jealousy and insecurity, making her question your love for her.

[aibloomie]

requests

summary — headcanons, drabbles, oneshots, romantic + platonic matchup (everything will be gender neutral !! no x fem!reader)

sources — genshin impact, sally face, mystic messenger, danganronpa v2, naruto, our life beginnings and always

headcanons

i. limit is three characters

ii. i will not write anything including — pregnancy, marriage, dark content, gore, mental/physical illness

iii. nsfw is allowed (MDNI)

drabbles (under 1k wc)

i. only one character

ii. please include the scenario you’d like

oneshot (3k+ wc)

i. one character only

ii. please include what events you’d like me to write about in depth (ex — relationship b/w character and reader, if there are any issues, if you’d like it to be fluffy or angsty, etc)

romantic matchup, please include the following . . .

i. your sexuality/what your preference in gender is (will only affect romantic match up, not platonic one)

ii. the source you’d like your match to be from

iii. three of more of the following — your hobbies, personality traits, ideal date/activities you enjoy, love language, pet peeves, strengths/weaknesses, what you look for in others, and any additional information you’d like to add

iv. if there are any characters you would not want to get

[queenofdenest]

Finno-Ugric Trio Week Fic #4. (AKA the secretly badass trio)

Title: language arguments Author: MementoMoriPontifexMorts Rating: General Warnings: denest mention, randomness

Sept 20th: Whatchu Say? Wednesday While related, these languages aren’t really mutually intelligible. Estonia and Finland have words that are false friends all over the place. And then Hungarian got influences from entirely different countries. Time to miscommunication! OR maybe bond over the few words they do all share.

A/N: So this is again based on something that I used to do, this time based during my Spanish classes I used to take. My teacher would have us repeat the word back to our partner to make sure we were all saying it right and so I thought, hmm, what would be a great way to represent this prompt so I wrote this and then was like oh wait does this prompt even fit with this dumb story and then was like, well it’s midnight and i have a midnight picnic to get to. Which are things okay that really are nice when it comes to driving out of the city and getting to see all the stars and everything.Anyway, translations at the bottom, hope you all enjoy!!

“Yksi.”

“Ei. Üks.”

“Nem. Egy.”

“Ei onnistu. Mikä sinua vaivaa?”

Elizaveta frowned, “Hey!” She pouted slightly before shaking her head. ��Két.”

“Kaksi.”

“Kaks.”

A snicker from Denmark in the background had them all turning to glare at the onlookers. This was quickly becoming their form of arguing, where instead of any mean words being said, they would just repeat words or sentences that sounded different but similar – well would if they hadn’t chosen the gosh dang number system that Elizaveta hated very much. She turned back to the other two, watching as they gave the tall Nordic nation a certain look before coming back to the conversation.

“Sajnálom, ilyen vicces.” She said shrugging lightly.

Eduard gave her a deadpan look, “Ei ole.” He muttered. “Kolm.”

“Kolme.”

“Oh come now, Tino, an added ‘e’ is superfluous!” Eduard argued, “That ‘e’ is stupid.”

“Her’s is három – why am I getting yelled at?”

“That’s an affront as well and I’ll get to that, but did none of you learn from -”

Elizaveta cut him off, “You lose round one, Eduard.” She said laughing lightly. “And my language is fine. Pick another subject.”

Eduard rolled his eyes a little, huffing a little breath before nodding. “Vesi.”

“Vesi.”

“Víz.”

“Jää.”

“Jää.”

“Jég.”

Denmark interrupted again, “It’s literally almost midnight, I’m bored and hungry – not Hungary because that’s her – and Norge won’t let us eat the picnic stuff until we get to the spot.” His voice a heavy whine as he leaned against the table, grasping Estonia’s hand and giving him a pouting face. “Please.”

Estonia blushed, “Oh, hästi ... jah, okei.” He muttered before turning to the other two, “I forfeit. We can finish this some other time.”

“Tino, explain to Denmark he can’t play the boyfriend card!” Elizaveta huffed, “I’m the winner than, since I’m older.”

“You’re not older.”

“I’m older.”

“No you aren’t.”

“Ughhh.” Denmark dropped his head on the table while the other three Nordic nations groaned along in annoyance. The three of them were far too much together.

A/N: Like I said, midnight picnics are fun. My friend lives on a large plot of land due to her parents being farmers and so I really like going out into the fields and just throwing a blanket down and watching the stars. Most of the translations came from the Finnic Ugric swadesh list on wikipedia, some of the Estonian came from the youtuber, Little Miss Squirrel and the rest came from google translate and several websites explaining how the grammar in Hungarian is. If anything’s wrong, I am so sorry. 

Translations: Yksi. Üks. Egy - the number one. [Finnish, Estonian, Hungarian] Ei - No [Estonian] Nem - No [Hungarian] Ei onnistu. Mikä sinua vaivaa - no way, what’s wrong with you? [Finnish] Két. Kaksi. Kaks.- the number two [Hungarian, Finnish, Estonian] Sajnálom, ilyen vicces.- I’m sorry, that’s [it’s] funny. [Hungarian] Ei ole - Is not [Estonian] Kolm, kolme, három - the number three [Estonian, Finnish, Hungarian] vesi.vesi. víz. - water [Finnish, Estonian, Hungarian] jää. jää.jég.- ice [Estonian, Finnish, Hungarian] Oh, hästi ... jah, okei. - Oh, well... yes, okay. [Estonian]

[lix-ables]

# 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐤𝐳 ; 𝐢𝐢. 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐣𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠. 

storyline – a series where stray kids as your boyfriends try to guide you through your needs. or rather try to, with a lot teasing.

genre – smut. minors dni. 

wc – 1,9k.

a/n. okay but like,, the way i had to write this on my test study break and also not me finishing this when i hit 1k follows? thank you it means a lot really oml^^

© lix-ables. translating and/or reposting is not allowed.

taglist: @angelwonie @chvnnie @jhslmhbtsskz @drrramaaaqweeen @eulaenthusiast​ @hwajin​ @niinjo​ @starlostseungmin​  

series: with skz; || one

cw; smut warning under the cut.

i. m receiving, slight nipple play, praising, marking, a lot of teasing coz im mean like that, mean soft dom!jisung, sub!reader.

ii.size kink, dirty talk, slight choking, hair pulling, deep throating, reader has slight possessive kink, use of pet names like darling, babe, angel, etc.

iii. jisung is slightly(?) mean here, but oh well, begging, mild degradation kink(reader gets called pathetic, filthy etc.), use of names like slut, whore, i think that’s it.

jisung was nervous. he knew he shouldn’t be, but that’s what he felt when he was around you. you drove him crazy, and the fact that he knew it did, made him shy thinking about it. shy in a way that showed a slight tint of red on his cheeks in front of his friends whenever you touched his thigh, obviously meaning it in the most pure way possible. but all jisung could think about was how you would look when you touched him exactly the way you were touching him now, your lips wrapped around his cock, on your knees. only for him. 

jisung also knew you had some weird experiences of giving someone head, but it wasn’t really your favorite thing, with history and all. he never pushed you, until tonight. until he found himself getting hard when you touched him. he didn’t think it would affect him so much to the point he wanted to fuck you right there, in that pretty pastel blue dress that you wore, in front of all his friends, but then again, he was possessive of you and he wanted to be subtle about it.

“hey, babe.” jisung wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, and you turn to face him. you smile at the boy next to you, bringing your palm up to your boyfriend’s chest, humming in response. “you ready to leave yet? it’s getting dark.” you nod your head, pressing a small peck to his cheek, and when his grip tightens on your body, jisung swears he heard a small whimper leave your lips. “everything okay?” he whispers into your hair, and you mumble a small yes, leaving a hint of concern on his face. 

the car ride back home was the most awkward thing you and boyfriend have ever been in. the silence made you wish there was some music playing, but you’d have to manage. your hands straighten your dress, trying your best to cover your bare thigh. it seemed like a mistake wearing the dress, but you liked it, and you wanted to look nice for your boyfriend, making you go back to the party, and when you touched his thigh. 

you couldn’t keep your eyes off him, resisting the urge to bit your lip every now and then. resisting the urge to just sit on his lap and leave marks, bruises, anything, all over his neck and chest. resisting the urge to be good for him, to listen to him, to do whatever he asked you to do. you finally broke when you touched his thigh, all out of pure intentions, but you just hoped jisung didn’t think anything about it. your thoughts needed to stay with you, but you felt yourself getting desperate for him, to please him. 

“whatcha thinking about?” jisung’s voice fills your head, and you turn to him, noticing his grip on the steering wheel tighten. pulling on the brakes at the signal, he turns to face you, his jawline tight, almost shining a bit in the traffic lights. “words, baby,” he whispers softly, before starting again, turning right into the street where you shared an apartment. “hmm, just.. you look good today,” you sigh, biting your bottom lip. “yeah? you look pretty enough for me to fuck you in that dress, darling,” he smiles, turning the engine off, and stepping out of the car, watching you stumble out, your cheeks a little red. 

“i’m not kidding,” he whispers, reaching to hold your hand, and you swore if he hadn’t been there, your knees would’ve given away. “so pretty just for me, all mine.” jisung presses a kiss to your shoulder, giving you space to open the door to your apartment. “holding myself off from fucking your mouth right there, baby.” he stops, and you gasp when he pulls you close to him, closing the door behind him. his fingers move to trace your shoulders, letting straps fall down, watching your face. 

“would you? let me fuck your mouth? i need to see your lips wrapped around my cock, angel,” jisung whispers, his voice hushed and he’s holding you close, breathing you in. you take in a sharp breath, knowing you can’t say no to him. you didn’t want to say no to him. the way he looked so pretty, almost begging, pleading you to be used by him, you couldn’t say no. “you can say no,” jisung mumbles, leaning closer to kiss your lips, his fingers finding your own, before placing his palm at the nape of you neck. “anything you want, darling.”

you had a choice. you need this, but so did he. both of your hands now tangled, your knuckle brushing against his clothed boner making him hiss into the kiss, letting it travel to your cheek, down to the base of your neck and then finally to your collarbone, etching kisses, wanting to leave marks where only he could see them, but jisung knew there would be his bite marks, on your lower collarbone. his.

“wanna make you feel good, ji –” you manage to say, your hand finding his hair, tugging on it, your other hand reaching to tug on his zipper, wanting his cock out and in your hand. “please –” your eyes flutter, feeling him close, wanting him closer. you both knew that this was something you weren’t comfortable doing, but you were willing to. today. 

jisung dips his head and burrows his face against your neck, trailing even more kisses there until he nips, groaning in frustration. his hands find your neck, cupping it, walking both your bodies back until it your back hits the wall separating the foyer and the living room. “fuck, the way i was imagining you taking my cock between your lips in that dress is driving me nuts,” he lets out, kissing you once, twice, until he’s back to kissing your neck, and going back to press a small kiss to your hair before pulling away. “be a good girl for me, and make me feel good, yeah? maybe i’ll reward you.”

you whimper at his words, letting out a small ‘god, ji right there’ when he brings out your breasts from your bra, massaging them aggressively, before sucking on on one nipple, earning a mewl from you. his fingers fiddle with the other nipple while your hands unsnap the button of his jeans and pull his zipper down. “can i?” 

“look at you asking for permission. fuck yes, go ahead baby,” jisung says, his grumble turning into a groan when you pull out his rigid cock in your hand, stroking the length. jisung’s stance falters, and he squeezes his eyes shut, and you take this as an opportunity to switch places and guide him so that his back was now pressed against the wall. 

you couldn’t deny it. jisung taking control always had you weak. on days when he would fuck you, and not make love, he would be so aggressive to the point where you were close to using your safe word, but you didn’t. you didn’t want to, because you were a sucker for this man. a moan leaves your lips, a sinful cry of pleasure, when he pulls your hair, bringing you closer to him, and it has you ascending already.

“so pretty,” you whisper, kneeling down so you’re face to face with his cock, not stopping the stroking even for a moment, having a firm grip on his thick erection. you look up to find his head against the way, and if you weren’t in the dark right about now, you’d know his eyes have rolled to the back of his head. “and so hard, all for me,” your tongue darts out, giving his tip a small lick, just a tiny one and jisung loses it. 

his hand reaches to grab you by the nape of your neck, pulling your hair in the process, as he brings you close, the tip of his cock hitting your bare chest a little. “fucking stop teasing, or you won’t get anything, do you get me? i’m not going to fuck that cunt of yours until im done using your mouth the way i want, angel.”

“need your cock inside me, ji– need you so bad, god. please.” it’s jisung’s chuckle that makes you move a bit more forward, and the next thing you know, his cock is stuffed between your lips, his precum leaving stains on the side of your lip, but you didn’t care. “jesus fucking christ angel, fuck,” jisung hisses, his hands cupping the back of your head, bunching your hair, his hips bucking into your face and you gag. he pulls away from your lips, leaving you whining for his cock. “shit, did you like that? do you like it when i make you choke on my fucking cock? jeez babe, i didn’t think you to be such a slut,” he hums, brushing a stray strand of your hair to the side.

jisung watches you lick your lip, your thumb wiping the little cum on your face, sucking on your digit, tasting him and he groans at the sight in front of him. his hand reaches to pull your dress up, finding no panties, and he smirks. “bare pussy, hm? all this for me?” you nod, biting your lip, settling on the floor, watching him bend down as well and you spread your legs for him, bunching your dress up for him to see how wet you were for him. “fuck, you’re deliciously wet. let me have a taste, angel. need to have you make a fucking mess on my face,” he whispers, the pad of his thumb rubbing your arousal all around your pussy and you whine, jisung’s just watching your reaction. “nuh uh, later, baby. need to make you feel good,” you close your thighs around his wrist, leaning to kiss his nose, your hand reaching for his cock, stroking it.

jisung lets out a low moan, backing himself against the wall again, “so greedy aren’t you? you just want me to nut all on your face hmm? my baby wants to be filthy tonight huh?” you nod at this, your thumb spreading precum on his head, your lips replacing your hand in a second. “fuck, just like that darling,” he whispers, bucking his hips again, making his cock hit the back of your throat, and you choke again. you had to admit it, you liked it. “let me know if its too much okay?” jisung looks at you, his finger caressing your cheek, while you bobbed on his cock, and his fingers reach to tangle your hair, pulling you closer to him, your nose brushing his lower abdomen. 

“such a pretty whore, all mine. looking all gorgeous with my cock stuffed in your mouth, can you be even more desperate and pathetic angel? do you not get my cock enough?” jisung hisses, his biceps flexing when he helps you move your mouth on his cock, setting a pace for you to follow. “needs all her holes filled doesn’t she? filling up your pussy isn’t enough, needs me to cum in her mouth as well, fuck.” 

you whine around his cock, the vibrations sending him to heaven, but jisung needs to be inside you. he needs to see you fall apart on his cock. he loved your lips around his cock, it was the best thing ever, but this was for another time. he would make you swallow all of him another time, he’d make a mess on your face another time, maybe in the morning. 

“baby, fuck. i need to be inside you, i need to watch your pussy swallow me whole,” jisung says, softly, pulling you away from him, his cock hitting his stomach. “be a good and greedy, little thing. i’m going to fuck you fast and hard. maybe if you can make me cum, i’ll let you make a mess on my tongue.”

[skaikruswan]

God I love your Lord Meowpheus fics so much, they just make me smile. Do you mind if I request Lord Meowpheus and his s/o taking a cat nap after a long day.

To rest beside you

WC: 1k Ao3

Relationship: Morpheus x f!reader

Notes: fluff, sleep-deprived reader, gentle Morpheus, Meowpheus

Dear anon, thanks for the prompt and for your kind words. I like Lord Meowpheus too :) Here you go, some fluff and some catnaps and cat naps.

If you liked this story, i have written others.

The tales of Lord Meowpheus:  I  II  III   IV V

Your eyelids are heavier than ever before and you are so tired, you start to envy the poor people who had the sleeping sickness. It is horrible, but you would give everything for a prolonged rest. 

The last days you’ve been on the go, heading out early and returning home late, and you start to miss having free time. Sleep is but an estranged friend you would like to meet again. 

You’re at home for once, but only because you need to change your outfit. As you stumble through your bathroom, about to undress, you give your bed a longing look. It is calling you. 

“You need to sleep.” You are so groggy that you don’t even know if you’re awake or maybe already sleeping. Maybe something in-between, with Morpheus taking you into the Dreaming. All you know is that he’s right. 

You turn around and notice Morpheus giving you a concerned look, his brows furrowed, and you slowly cross the distance to rest your head on his shoulder, almost falling against him. Having Dream of the Endless visit you in the real world is always making your heart race, but today it only flutters. 

“There are many studies about catnaps being really effective,” you mumble into his shoulder, your eyes already closed. “I have 30 minutes at most. Please make it count, King of Dreams,” you plead, your voice weak. 

“Your wish is my command,” Morpheus says lowly as he reaches down to put his hands under your knees, carrying you to your bed. Even exhausted and on the verge of sleep, you notice that he’s carrying you bridal-style, and your heart starts to race. 

“Rest, my love.” His voice sounds so soothing and deep, you would follow every demand. 

You do as you’re told, a short, dreamless sleep that leaves you energetic and happy. 

You wake up on your bed, your head resting on top of Morpheus’ chest, his hand resting on your waist while he gives you a fond look. You could get used to waking up like this, you think, a flush warming your cheeks. 

You glance at your watch and let out a yelp. 

“Now I am rested, but late!” you scream, jumping up. Before you carry on, you press a soft kiss on Morpheus’ cheek, your lips brushing against his cool skin, letting him know how much you’ve appreciated his help and his presence. 

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

Nobody is walking in the street when you come home, with the moon and the stars you only companions.

It takes a few tries before you manage to insert the key into the lock of your door. You drag your feet over the floor, dropping your bag to the ground and just plopping on your bed. You undress while lying on the bed. Getting up and going to the bathroom is a herculean task. 

“Morpheus?” you ask into the darkness as you crawl under your blankets. Your busy days keep you occupied, and you miss the little dates you used to have with Morpheus. Your dreams are vague and leave you not as rested as you should be. 

Nobody answers. 

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

You let out an actual squeal when you realize that you’re back inside the Dreaming. Not bothering to change your dream, you focus on the palace to find Morpheus. You’ve become quite good at controlling yourself inside the Dreaming. 

You find yourself on the edge of the throne room, looking at dreams and nightmares that top even your wildest imagination. Seeing a blue-skinned fairy, dressed in a short white dress and with beautiful butterfly wings, stand next to something that can only be described as a cross between a spider and giant startles you enough to slowly retreat. 

“Enough.” One word is enough to stop the chattering. Morpheus is sitting on his throne, a king who doesn’t need a crown, a ruler whose power would never be contested again. “I hear your concerns and shall find a solution. Until then, return to your spots and fulfill your duties.” 

After their dismissal, the dreams and nightmares disperse, leaving the throne room to you and Morpheus. 

The King of Dreams slowly walks down the staircase, and you wait, eager to spend some time with him. You would love to just lie in a meadow and rest. 

Morpheus reaches for your hand and guides you towards your room. Butterflies flutter through your stomach every time you remember that you have your own chambers, that Morpheus wants to share his home with you. 

You know from experience that a dream bed feels like lying on a cloud and you almost swoon when you hit the soft blanket. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you wait for Morpheus to talk to you. 

The ruler of the Dreaming is gone, replaced by a beautiful black cat with golden eyes. He jumps on the bed and gently steps on your stomach before lying down on top of you. You let out a playful grunt. Morpheus is different in his cat form, and you've grown to love the different form of affection he shows and likes to be shown. You've become a cat person. 

“Hard day?” you ask as you gently start to caress him, your fingers gliding over the soft fur. Morpheus starts to purr, his head nuzzling against your collarbone. 

You giggle and start to scratch his favorite spot under the chin. Having Morpheus this close to you makes your heart skip a beat and you wonder if he hears it. 

“I think we both need a catnap,” you suggest, grinning at your pun as your eyelids become heavier. 

“There is nowhere else I would rather be,” Morpheus answers, and through your half-lidded eyes, you see that he has also closed his eyes. Morpheus doesn’t require sleep, but he can rest, and you cherish every minute he chooses to rest with you. 

“Rest, my love,” you repeat his words to him, an affectionate whisper and you continue stroking Morpheus until you fall asleep, knowing that sleeping in a dream guarantees a wonderful rest, thankful for the one you love resting beside you.

[ahqkas]

STAR WARS MASTERLIST ; (bold means i prefer writing for the character or have some experience) ; anakin skywalker, padmé amidala, obi-wan kenobi, cal kestis, leia organa, han solo && more to be updated !!

NO LONGER WRITING FOR SW UNTIL FURTHER DECISION

𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐊𝐘𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑 !

i. ㅤㅤtill forever falls apart ; wc 2k, gn!reader, hurt/comfort, rots anakin skywalker

ii. ㅤㅤa hand to hold at night ; wc 1k, gn!padawan!reader, aotc anakin skywalker, fluff

iii. ㅤㅤi've got my eyes on you ; wc 3.1k, gn!jedi!reader, aotc / rots anakin it doesn't matter, fluff / angst, part 1

ㅤㅤi've got my mind on you ; wc , gn!jedi!reader, aotc / rots anakin it doesn't matter, fluff / angst, part 2

iv. ㅤㅤcareless whispers ; wc 0.8k, gn!reader, fluff, any anakin you want

v. ㅤㅤthe sweetness of his voice ; wc 1k, gn!reader, fluff, any anakin you wish

vi.ㅤㅤ moments we share ; wc 0.9k, gn!reader, fluff, rots anakin skywalker

[oikadori]

hi! can i request Headcons about kita and osamu with their s/o in online class or google meet and forget to turn off the camera stuff. i like how you've done for suna, daichi and akaashi hehehe your hc is cute and i love it! 🥺❤️

LEAVING THEIR CAMERA ON WHILE BEING SOFT WITH THEIR S/O PART II 

⇢ includes: osamu , kita , iwaizumi | PART I , PART III

⇢ genre// cw: fluff , f!reader // suggestive, iwa bites you 

⇢ wc~ 1K

a/n: please yess i loved this prompt sorry for taking so long i just idek why i left this on my drafts for so long SORRY nonnie !!

reblogs are highly appreciated <3 

“hun-gry”

Osamu’s eyes drift from the laptop on the counter to you, softening when you loudly yawn entering the kitchen, he must admit that seeing you decked into one of his grey sweaters is making his heart beat a little faster than before.

“good morning to you too” he says between a deep chuckle as he presses a button on his earbuds. “Nice to see that you slept so well”

Your eyes adapt to the light and notice Osamu sitting in front of the screen, his notebook resting beneath his hands. You tilt your head, sleepiness still fogging your mind as you move behind him.

“I’m hungry ‘Samu” your head falls on top of his muscular shoulder and your arms wrap his torso

Osamu, quickly taps the button that deactivates the camera, or at least he thinks he did, before looking over his shoulder with half lidded eyes.

“You’re always hungry Y/N”

“You’re always hungry too!!

He shakes his head, stopping a small giggle to come out of his lips as you nuzzle your nose against his neck, leaving soft kisses and mumbling “cook me something” in the process. Osamu closes his eyes, enjoying your caresses before turning to face you.

“I didn’t know I had such a whiny baby as girlfriend” he lays his pen on top of his notebook before cupping your cheek with his big palm, “What am I going to do with ya?”

You pout at his mocking tone and Osamu sees the opportunity to kiss your lips, drawing a little moan out of you. Your eyes flutter closed as you hug him tighter, enjoying the warmth of his body against yours.

“Miya-kun! You are still part of this class!!” a female voice rings in Osamu’s ears making him stiffen, you, on the other hand, are brushing your lips on the sensitive skin of his neck searching for his mouth again, causing the spiker to blush violently as he apologizes. He looks at you with pleading eyes, using all his willpower to hold back the urge to kiss you.

“babes-please, stop.”

“Shin, can you help me with this real quick?”

Kita sees you from the corner of his eyes, standing on the entrance of his room, holding your math notebook and tapping your feet, waiting for an answer. He activates his microphone not facing you yet, addressing his classmates with a  stoic tone.

“Excuse me, I’m gonna leave for a bit” he explains to his group before deactivating his camera and mic to take off his earbuds, leaving them on top of the desk. Kita’s face softens as his eyes squint a bit to give you a tender smile, patting his lap for you to use as a seat. “Come, angel”

You eagerly move your feet in his direction before plopping your weight on his thighs, sitting horizontally. One of his palms caresses your back while the other rests on your legs.

“What is it, darling?” he whispers, leaning to pepper your cheek, making a bubbly laugh burst out of your throat.

“I-help me with math please, I don’t understand this right here” you whine, pointing with your pen at the equation on your notebook, an angry frown settling on your face as you reread the problem out loud.

“Poor baby, of course I’ll help ya”, Kita smiles before his nose tickles your neck and plants a little kiss over the exposed skin. “Okay, this goes like this-“

“Kita! Your camera is still on!” Aran’s yell coming from the earbuds is loud enough for you both to hear it, your face starting to burn as you look directly at the camera, finding the ace covering his eyes.

But Kita is calm, he gives a shy smile at the screen before plugging his earbuds back, squeezing softly your thigh in an attempt to relax you.

“Thank you Aran, I apologize for the scene but… I couldn’t help it” his cheeks redden a bit as you hide your face in your palms, muffling an apology before trying to stand up. Kita’s quickly grip your thigh stopping you for moving off his lap.

“I haven’t explained ya the exercise yet”

“Are you still in class?”

“I have a little break, need something?”

You look at your boyfriend from your chair, giving a worried look that makes his thick, brown eyebrows to furrow together before he huffs. He looks away, hiding the red flush that started creeping on his face.

“No.”, You notice by the way he’s standing there, shifting his weight from left to right and hiding his hands in his pockets that he’s lying so, you lean back, offering a teasing smile.

“Oh! In that case I better do some work”, you drift your attention back to your laptop but your chair turns to the side, finding Iwaizumi’s greyish eyes staring deeply at you as his hands grip firmly the arms of your chair, caging you in your seat. “What is it Haji?”

“Want you” two simple words that make your heart flutter. One of his palms moves behind your neck to secure his hold on you as his lips crash against yours in a passionate kiss.

The room is silent except for the sounds of your wet and sloppy kisses.

“Iwa-chan!!” your boyfriend’s eyes snap open, and he freezes, lips still latched at yours, as the voice of seijoh’s captain bounce against the walls, “you are gonna hurt her lips if you keep biting like a rabid dog! ”

Iwaizumi grunts, shooting daggers to the setter across the screen, and you swear he’s about to smash your laptop with his own hands.

“What the fuck?!”

“If you need advice I-“

You quickly hold onto his arm, dragging him towards you to place a chaste kiss on his cheeks, giggling at the whole situation as your free hand closes the laptop, leaving Oikawa talking to himself.

Iwaizumi huffs and curses, wearing blushy cheeks, pressing  his forehead against yours. He stares at your red, swollen lips before tracing them carefully with his calloused fingers, worried.

“Was he right? Did I hurt you? Shit. Gonna be gentler next time, princess”

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