#insomnia drabble

[kawoala]

⁝ KOZUME KENMA 𝜗𝜚 2:34 am 𝜗𝜚

ᰔ word count ; 293

ᰔ content warning ; implied insomnia 、 twitch streamer! kenma 、 drabble 、 kiyoko is pregnant for some reason? 、 time-stamp.

2:34 am.

“you don’t get enough sleep.”

the light from his computer is filling the room, illuminating his face and everything around him. he turns around to look at you, a tired look in his eyes. theres a moment of silence as he stares at you before he gives you a small, crooked smile, forcing you to replace the serious look you had tried so hard to keep with a smile of your own.

“kenma,” you scowl playfully, walking over to him quietly. your feet pad against the hardwood floor, each step sending a shiver up your spine. “we went to bed together so we could wake up together.”

he presses his lips together and nods once. “i know,” he whispers, voice raspy - tired. you get closer to him and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “couldn’t sleep. i had an idea for a stream and then-“

“then your brain was up and running?” you finish for him, laughing lightly. you look down at him and cup his face in your hands, squishing his cheeks together. “i understand that, i do, but you need to get sleep. we have a big day tomorrow.”

“we do?” he quirks an eyebrow, tilting his head as best as he can with you holding him. when your brows furrow, he chuckles. “i’m kidding. baby shower for kiyoko, i know.”

“can you believe it? people our age are having *babies* now. i feel so…” you trail off, sighing. “old.”

“we’re twenty-three, y/n.”

you roll your eyes at him. “i know that!” you exclaim. “i’m just saying… hey! you’re supposed to be coming back to bed with me, you know.”

he smiles again. “okay, y/n. let’s go to bed.”

[jokeringcutio]

DRABBLE/ Insomnia!READER X THE GRABBER

Fandom: Black Phone 2022

Pairing: The Grabber/ Albert Shaw x Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: Kidnapping, Dark!, Non-con/Dub-con, Forced!Blowjob, Smut, Insomnia!Reader, Kidnapped!Reader, Victim!Reader. Implied age gap/ older man/younger woman, somnophilia, use of Little/good Girl.

AN: for @ninakuli How would the Grabber react if the reader couldn’t get to sleep? Well, this might be one of the ways.

->

“Can’t sleep?”

The rough voice made you look up from your position lying on the moldy mattress. You wondered how anyone could sleep here. A stranger’s house, a damp basement, an unknown environment. The walls were bare except for the painting peeling down. The tiny barred window that let in the only light, whether it was day or night because of the lamp that hung in front of it, was up too high. The walls absorbed any sound. It was a prison made with hellish barriers.

And then there was that stranger who came watching. You never knew when he would be down here. Never knew what he would do next. It had you on edge. How could anyone ever sleep when he was around?

So far, he’d mostly been down to watch you, talk to you, work on your mind until his words confused you and you started to believe you’d ended up here all because of your own doing. That you deserved being here.

But there had been that one time when you had pretended to have been asleep, eyes closed, in hopes he would become bored and turn away. But instead of leaving, you had heard his breathing deepen. And then you had felt his hand between your thighs, fingers pressing deep into your clothed skin until one finger curled against your covered cunt. You could still feel his fingertip press against your sensitive bud. The touch hadn’t lasted long, for you’d shot up instantly and his hand had been back by his side almost just as fast. But you were certain it had not been a dream.

And now you were scared of him. Frightened, that if you were to go to sleep, he might take you in it. That he might claim your body as his own when you could not fight back.

Anxiety ate you, piece by piece until it wrecked your nerves and made you shiver with fearful anticipation. Any sound would trigger a panicked reaction and would have you sit up and open your eyes. Because he is here again, isn’t he? Even when he wasn’t. You were constantly alert, ready to shy away from any advances he might try to make.

And so, you blinked up at him fearfully while you wondered what he would be doing next. He’d commented on your lack of sleep the past few times he’d been down there, annoyed that he couldn’t watch you sleep like he had the others. You didn’t know how many had been here before you, only that he somehow seemed to enjoy observing them when they weren’t awake.

Creep, you thought. You wondered if he got off of it. And why he couldn’t just enjoy you while you were awake?

Perhaps that had been a wrong thought to have, because what he said next made shivers run down your spine.

“I know just the thing.” Just the thing for what? To make you sleepy? You wondered for a moment if he referred to some kind of drug, or if he might just knock you out with one of his fists. But he did neither.

He cocked his head to the side, the mask’s chin pointed at his right shoulder. He was observing you, his stance pensively. What was he thinking? But then you regretted that thought when the man came over to you, coming closer than he had in the past few days.

“An ancient old medicine,” he said, voice low and gruff, while he started to unbuckle his belt. And that was the moment you realized what he might be implying. What he might want from you. He probably had wanted this all along.

Your eyes grew wide with fear as you tried to crawl back on the mattress until your back hit the wall and you couldn’t back away any further. “It has proven to be very effective over time,” his husky voice sounded. Then a chuckle emerged from behind the mask as he pushed his pants and underpants down to reveal an achingly hard cock, pre-cum dripping from the tip and glistening in the faint light that fell in from the window above.

The belt was wrapped around his right fist, the end of it dangling in front of you.

You tried to shield your eyes with your hands. “Please,” you begged when you noticed he’d stepped even closer and completely ignored the fact that you had tried to get away. “No, please,” his hand was upon your wrist, yanking it away to uncover your eyes. You looked up at him, tears glistening in your eyes, while you pleaded for him to spare you. “I’ll go to sleep,” you said, voice choked by tears. “Please, I’ll be good. I’ll go to sleep. You don’t need to do this.”

He paused in his actions and there was that tilt of his head again as he studied you through the hole-eyes of the mask. The belt dropped from his hand and fell to the basement floor with a clank.

His right hand came up to your cheek and you flinched, afraid he might slap you there. But his touch was gentle, his palm lightly upon your skin. You opened your eyes again to look up at him mistrustingly and wished you could tell what kind of expression he held behind that darned mask he was wearing.

You couldn’t tell. All you knew was that he was taking his time, standing there, only inches away from you. He was gently caressing your cheek, his thumb tracing circles. The motion was soothing as if he was trying to comfort you. It worked as well, for you felt your shoulders relax somewhat, despite your brain being on full alert.

His other hand was holding his cock. The aching hard member twitched in his grip as a new spurt of pre-cum droplets emerged from the tip. You tried not to look at it, which was hard as his shaft was on eye-level with you, ready to be brought to your lips.

Would he do it? You wondered how far he would go. He hadn’t touched you before like this. He’d been mostly at a distance. Except for that one time. But it figured he would eventually succumb to these primal desires. Why else had he taken you? If it had been just to kill then he would have done so already. Why keep you alive if not for this?

You whimpered, slightly trembling under his caress. A low hum escaped the masked man, then he stood straight again and you saw him move his upper body. The vest he was wearing fell open, his naked stomach showed. Round, you thought, pudgy. Yet, the muscles that showed on his chest betrayed your kidnapper was a man of strength. A strength that was confirmed almost instantly when he suddenly reached for you.

You felt your head being yanked towards him, and his shaft that had been angled at your lips was now pressed against them, begging you to spread them wide. He kept pushing, roughly, until the meat was between your lips and the head of his cock was upon your tongue. The salty taste of flesh mixed with the bitterness of the pre-cum filled your mouth and you hollowed your cheeks. And then he started to thrust.

You looked up at him, pleading silently for his mercy. But at the sight of your tear-stained eyes, his thrusts grew even fiercer and his grip on your head even tighter. You were left with no alternative but to suck, accepting his cock deep inside your throat.

Low, deep rumbles came from the depth of his chest when you started to cooperate. He was pleased, humming and moaning ‘oh yeah’ and ‘just like that’. Sounds that vibrated through his cock until you felt them in your mouth.

Dirty, your mind provided you while he moved you up and down his shaft. The salty and bitter taste of him filled you completely. The curly hairs around his manhood pressed into your nostrils when he pushed your head forward, blocking off your chance to breathe. You sputtered around him, feeling the tip at the back of your throat, feeling his cock spasm between your lips.

You gurgled and sputtered, trying not to choke. A moment of respite when he slid your head back again and his cock nearly left your lips, but then he pushed forward again until his hips met your cheek and your nose was nestled deep within his pubic hair.

You gasped and tried to claw at his hips, but all you felt was how he kept a tight grip on your head and stilled his movements, leaving his cock deep between your lips, the head pushing the back of your throat.

The process repeated itself a few more times, until his cock finally slipped from your lips and you were left gasping for air. A trail of sperm and saliva dripped from your lips and ran down your chin. You moved your hand up to wipe it away, but he caught your wrist before you could get there.

Staring up at him with wide eyes, you heard a chuckle derive from behind the mask. “Na-ah,” the man tusked, his low gravelly voice making something twist deep inside you. A longing, a tingle that had you squeezing your legs together. A foreboding feeling washed over you, that he wasn’t finished just yet. That this was only the beginning.

“Leave it there,” the man hummed. The pause that followed felt too long, making you writhe uncomfortably while you waited for him to either speak or let go of your hand. In the end, he did both, nearly at the same time. “I think I will have to cover your face in a layer of my spunk next time,” there was that rasp again. You had heard it before, how he could slide from a normal, almost gentle tone, into a demonic rasp that was usually used when he was angry and full of curses. “Paint your face a nice white with my cum,” he clicked his tongue behind the mask. His voice became lighter again.

“But for now, there’s another way I have in mind to tire you.”

You shivered at the promise and tried to back away again. The man in front of you got hold of his throbbing cock, wrapping his left hand around it. You saw how his fingers curled around the glistening shaft, still covered in your saliva, and watched how the veins throbbed when he moved his hand up and down at a firm but gentle pace. The ring on his finger glinted in the weak light, skin rippling as he pumped his hand up and down his throbbing cock. Still hard. Balls underneath heavy with cum.

“Undress, sweetie,” he cooed, voice soft like honey.  But when you refused to do as he said, his tone turned drier and more menacing again.

What happened next was much of a blur. He made you undress for him, tweak your nipples for him, rub your hands up and down your bare chest for him while he watched and laughed and licked his tongue past his teeth at the show. His hand never ceased moving up and down slowly, hardening himself underneath his touch until he thought it was enough.

 “Spread your legs, sweetheart,” it took only one command and you were back on your back on the mattress. Your bare back scrubbed along the mold. Even covered in the dark shade of the mask, you could see the glistening of his eyes, pupils wide. You hesitatingly spread your legs for him.

He crawled over you, cock still in his hand, and pressed your legs apart to fit himself in between. His right hand was on your thigh, palm pressed against your soft skin. His left hand guided his cock to your quivering cunt until you felt the head kiss your labia. A wet feeling against your pussy lips and you realized he was smearing his pre-cum at your entrance, deliberately rubbing the head of his cock up and down your entrance while some of the pre-cum came seeping out.

Your fingers clawed at his shoulders and your lips parted in a gasp. “Please,” you begged, knowing it to be futile. Then he dipped in, just the head. Careful fingers pressed the tip in. Not enough to hurt yet, just enough to tease.

He paused in his actions just to bend down, his hair brushed against your cheek as he whispered near your face. “That’s my good girl.”

Then he thrust forth without mercy.

You were speared upon his cock that night, in the basement that was your prison. He left you sore and tired as he forced orgasm after orgasm out of your trembling body beneath him.

He’d been right. You closed your eyes and fell into a dreamless slumber afterward, relieved when he finally rose from the bed and left you alone. You were too tired to notice when the Grabber returned for you in the midst of the night to get some more relief. Until you faintly awoke to wet sounds and the odd feeling of something thrusting deep inside you.

“Hush, pretty girl,” the low voice whispered in your ear, hips moving relentlessly while he kept pushing himself inside. One hand was on your breast, squeezing it tightly while he toyed with you. His other arm was around your waist, his knee between your legs as he held you from behind, your cunt squeezing down on his cock which was covered in your mixed juices.

“I’ll make you go to sleep soon, little one. Don’t you worry. I’ll make you sleep real deep.”  

[fbfh]

Hey! Could you please do some headcannons of cuddling with Jay from descendants?

Thank you!

oh fuck yes baby boy NEEDS a snuggle so fuckin bad. Jay is SO motherfucking - his full name is Janasheen Lagmani Mufti btw (successor, born at nightfall, one who gives council or legal advice) - Jay is SO motherfuckin touch starved that he'll get injured on purpose just so he can feel you touch him up. After a while you start to catch onto this because you don't have the heart to tell him he's not quite as slick as he thinks he is. So OBVIOUSLY I have a medieval game OBVIOUSLY I have a jousting game the only way you're gonna get him to turn into your snuggly lil bunbun (yes he does insist you call him that after you say it once as a joke and he loses his mind) is to make him think YOU'RE really the one who needs cuddles. like of course you're feeling kinda sad and tired from all your schoolwork so of COURSE you need a big strong tough cool guy star of the tourney team to make you feel all safe and cozy. obviously it's TOTALLY for your benefit. not at all because Jay was not hugged once as a child! that's hilarious and true and totally not the reason at all! I just washed my hands that's why they're wet! no other reason!

but yeah once you actually start cuddling with him it's going to take approximately less that six seconds for him to become a total and complete velcro boyfriend. it takes longer to watch any vine in existance than it does for Jay to latch onto you like a small baby bird. he did not know that touchy feely stuff could be so... nice. especially when it's with you. he tried giving Carlos and Evie and Mal bear hugs between classes when he's away from you and it was good, but it wasn't the same. Maybe it's because Carlos still thinks he's going to get suplexed whenever Jay grabs him like that or maybe it's because Mal keeps asking if he huffed her spraypaint and that's why he's so huggy out of nowhere (Evie doesn't mind too much as long as he doesn't wrinkle her outfits or mess with her hair and makeup. she actually approves of you two and likes that you're bringing out Jay's more affectionate side. she makes a mental note to give you the friends and family discount on any future designs you order from her.) but shortly after that first time you snuggled up with Jay and had him tell you all about the video games he's been playing and about tourney practice he's full on addicted to your touch and cuddles. Coach sometimes has to pull you off your extra curriculars to give Jay hugs and kisses during practice when he cops an attitude or gets too rowdy. you're known as the Jay whisperer immediately and believe me the nickname sticks. Carlos asks what the hype is once and you give him head scratches and he understands.

[sunshinebingo]

Gwynriel - 600 words - Just fluff

Inspired by the picture used in the title card, and a conversation with some friends on discord. I wish I remembered who was in that discussion so I could tag them specifically. Sorry guys 🥺

"It was a beautiful mystery, she thought as she gazed at him, how some people came together as intuitively as the laws of nature. Were such people born already belonging to each other, or..."

Gwyn pauses. She lifts the hand that isn't holding her book to cover her mouth as a yawn break from her lips. She turns the page and continues to read aloud, her hand going back to playing with the silky hair of the male who is holding one of her legs hostage.

"...or was it some gods who, after much observation, placed them on the same path? She had never truly unders..."

Her voice starts to come out a little slurred. Her eyelids droop. The words on the page start to merge, the c blending into the e, the same e that looks no different from an a. She yawns again.

Gwyn picks up the blue ribbon she uses as a bookmark from her lap and places it in between the pages before closing the book.

Her arms rise above her head as she stretches her body to get rid of the stiffness that has settled in after hours of sitting on this couch.

Azriel grumbles. He hugs her left leg tighter, preventing Gwyn from straightening it properly. She huffs and brings both of her hands to his head to push him away. But all pretence of annoyance is erased from her face when she looks down at him.

Gwyn can't stop herself from smiling at the sight of one of the scariest looking and broodiest male that she has ever known holding onto her leg like a child would their comfort blanket. His large body is turned on his side with one of his feet dangling off the end of the couch. His bare chest rises and fall with each slow breath he takes. There is a slight furrow to his brows, no doubt from Gwyn having apparently so rudely dared to interrupt his sleep.

She brushes away the few curls of his obsidian hair that have fallen on his forehead. The sound that rumbles out of him when her nails gently scrapes along his scalp is akin to the purr of a contented cat. Gwyn's whole body shake from her giggle despite her attempt to stifle it. Azriel grumbles again and tightens his hold on her. Any tighter and he will cut off the blood circulation in this leg.

"Can I move?" she asks with a light tug on his hair.

"No," Azriel mumbles, his deep voice barely audible. "You're stuck with me."

He nuzzles his face against her leg. One of his hands glides higher and stops at the seam of her sleeping shorts where his thumb starts caressing her skin.

She shakes her head. Of course she is stuck with him. She smiles. But there is no one else she would rather be stuck with.

Very slowly so as not to awake the grumbling sleeping beauty, she slides herself lower on the couch until she is mostly lying down and she can place her head on the armrest. She adjusts the few cushions she can reach beneath her head and at her sides. Gwyn sighs when she finally manages to get somewhat comfortable.

Unable to properly kiss him goodnight, she kisses her own fingers instead and lightly slaps them on the small part of his face that isn't buried between her leg and the cushion beneath it.

She picks her book back up and opens it again, intent on reading incomprehensible words until they put her to sleep. Her other hand returns to its rightful place in Azriel's hair. Tomorrow she will need to find a way to remind him that he is also stuck with her. She hopes that eternity won't be too much for him.

[leezlelatch]

“Copia, would you save me if I was kidnapped by ghosts?”

All is quiet in the bedroom for several seconds, the question hanging in the air before Copia rolls over, his eyes bleary from sleep as he looks at you.

“Eh…what?” His tired face screws up in confusion. “Why are ghosts kidnapping you?”

“Don’t think too much into it, just answer the question.”

Copia has the good nature to look amused by your early, early morning question, his arms wrapping around you to pull you across the mattress, squeezing you to him like a teddy bear as he rests his cheek just above yours.

“Mmm, I would be very sad, amore,” he mumbles, closing his eyes as he nuzzles sweetly into your skin. “Very angry that ghosts took you from me.”

“So what would you do?” His sweet embrace is rapidly drawing you back to sleep, your voice soft.

“Ah, la risposta è semplice. I would summon an entire demonic army to save you and deliver the ghosts unto Satan,” Copia heaves a sleepy sigh, his voice growing quieter. “Their souls would burn in the pit in eternal hellfire.”

You stir and twist in his embrace to look at him. “Wait, you can do that?”

Copia hooks a leg around yours and readjusts you, his body like a weighted blanket to calm your racing little mind. He drags the covers firmly over you both. “Go to sleep, amore.”

You fall into silence for several seconds.

“I love you, Copia.”

A lingering kiss to your forehead, a soothing thumb across your brow. “And I love you, so very much,” he says.

[lacefedora]

Ambrosia: Devil's Minion / Armandaniel

I was inspired by THIS POST that provided such a vivid image I had to write it. this ficlet is rated E, sexy bits are under the cut.

-

Daniel doesn't remember biting into his neck, but that moan was going to haunt him the rest of his life. Armand moaning into his ear, panting against it in desperate gasps, each breath coming in time with each slow draw that Daniel took into his mouth. Savoring the blood. He'll never forget the heady burst of flavor. He will make certain of it.

Honey and pineapple Louis had said. He was wrong. It was so much sweeter.

Daniel had been too dazed when Armand had turned it to really taste it. And with Armand immediately taking off Daniel had been desperately depressed he might never taste it again. To get the chance to really imprint it on his memory. He wouldn't miss the chance now.

Armand moves and Daniel latches on tighter. His long fangs sinking deeper, bringing more exquisite, ancient blood to the surface. He hears Armand whimper and Daniel is dimly aware of sharp glass edge nails ripping into his skin. Like Armand is trying to claw him closer, desperate for even more contact than Daniel's teeth in him.

Daniel can't complain; really he wants to do the same. No high he'd ever chased could possibly compare to this. He'd like to split him open and crawl inside to drink from him until he died. This must be what ambrosia had tasted like. That's what it was. Not Honey and Pineapple. Ambrosia. Food only fit for the gods.

"Daniel please." Armand is gasping, the first words he's gotten out since this ordeal started. And they're desperate, thready, devoid of composure. Daniel will do anything to make him sound like that every day... the control freak unraveling, coming apart at the seems. A whole new brand of addiction taking hold in him. Or fuck, maybe this was religious fervor. Divine ecstasy.

Daniel knows what he wants too. He can taste it in his blood, smell it on his skin, feel it in the wanton twitch of hips. He moves his hand to the front of Armand's pants and rubs the deliciously hard cock he finds there. Timing it perfectly to align with the pull of blood from his veins. Armand thrashes bracing himself against the wall to push into the touch.

Armand's next moan is like a church bell, abrupt and resonant. Daniel can feel it echoing around in his brain. Daniel uses his claws well, slicing the button off Armand's pants and pulling down the zipper to shove them down off of him. At long last he wraps his fingers around Armand's cock. They both moan at the contact, though Daniel's is muffled by his mouthful. Fuck he must have almost bitten clean through the skin. Like a rabid dog.

Daniel hesitates, very nearly pulling his teeth free to look Armand in the face. But there's a mad scramble of limbs then Armand is grabbing the back of his neck and holding Daniel firmly in place. Daniel unwinds from his tension and then draws down another gulp of blood. He squeezes Armand's cock… He'd have to get a good look at it later. It feels as pretty as the rest of him. He works him much faster than the slow little drinks he was taking. The contrast drives Armand wild as he suspected and the moans he gives are completely unrehearsed. Needy.

Daniel can feel how hard his own cock is. He's been hard since the moment he sank his teeth into him. But he isn't paying himself any mind at all. It's completely secondary to the way Armand is falling apart pressed against the wall. Daniel shifts his grip and he knows it must be good because Armand jerks in his arms, tearing his flesh further. The renewed gush of blood causes Daniel to push his own cock against Armand's hip, mindlessly seeking friction.

The action causes Armand to give a choked cry that he muffles against Daniel as he comes in glorious hot spirts. The blood gets on both of them. Their shirts and Daniel's arm and hand. Daniel finally releases the bite, pulling back to admire his handy work… it looks much like his neck had looked before it scarred. The comparison doesn't bother him so much as it should. He smiles and the brings up his other hand to bite his thumb and close the wounds.

"Leave them. Let thim heal on their own." Armand insists, the quick as light he has Daniel pinned to the wall instead, dropping to his knees and ripping open his fly. His fangs are out as he swallows Daniel's cock down to the hilt. Daniel doesn't even warn him not to bite. He drops his head against the wall with a thud, moaning. He felt high, but still beautifully lucid. He laughs breathlessly as he winds his clean hand into Armand's hair. The other hand he brings to his mouth, licking it clean with Armand starting to give him by far the messiest blow job he can remember.

Daniel comes when Armand scrapes his teeth over his dick with deliberate intention. All he can taste is Armand's sweet blood in his mouth.

[sunsage]

The sea is far too cold this late in autumn but he doesn't seem to care, lowering his hands into the frigid water and scrubbing at his face, trying to rid of the dark paint stuck to it. The water around him is starting to look like an oil spill.

[moon-and-stars-selfship]

Decaf

Length-Medium

Ship-Ignis Scientia

Owen stumbled into the lounge of the hotel they were staying in, his legs barely functioning. Even if his mind had been awake for hours, his body had yet to catch up. Despite barely being able to hold him the aching restlessness in his calves and tingling in his toes refused to relent.

Making his way to one of the recliners that sat in the middle of the lounge he collapsed, placing his palm on his face and exhaling with exhaustion. "Couldn't sleep?" He jumped slightly at the voice, sitting up and turning to find Ignis standing at the mini kitchenette wearing his underclothes. Seeing him in boxers and a tank top outside of the bed was jarring, though still wearing his glasses he retained a modicum of his usual refined appearance. Even so, the sight alone of him already made Owen feel more relaxed.

As he lay back in the recliner he made a noise in affirmation. "Yeah, RLS. How about you?" The sound of boiling water brought a rich aroma to his attention. "More of a restless mind. Coffee?" Ignis offered, already pouring a mug for him. "Won't that just wake me up?" Owen asked, accepting the offered mug regardless. "Not if you know how to brew it." Ignis was pouring his own cup now. Awake or asleep, as long as he was either one or the other would be better than being halfway between each.

By the time Owen had added a packet of creamer from the bowl on the table to his coffee Ignis' glasses were already fogged up, and as he lifted the steaming mug to his lips he took a sip. He nearly spat out the boiling liquid at how bitter it was. "Augh...This tastes terrible." It was nothing like the smooth, balanced flavor that he'd come to associate with Ebony. He instinctively started to reach for the sugar before Ignis spoke up. "Now now, sugar won't get anything done this early. Or this late, rather, depending on how you look at it." Owen grimaced, looking back down at the brown liquid and deciding to forego the sugar.

Ignis took another sip off his coffee, hardly reacting to the excessive bitterness. "And I well imagine it should: It's decaf." His gaze shifted to Ignis leaning on the counter as he opted to simply add more creamer. "I didn't know you even had the stuff." Ignis swirled his mug, looking into the black fluid. "Yes, I find it's quite useful to have on hand for nights like this." Owen hunched over, looking back at his now pale brown drink before taking a sip. Bearable. "So...What's got your mind racing? Is everything okay?" He turned his head to see Ignis facing the wall. "Nothing really to be concerned with. Truth be told it's nothing more troubling than needing to restock on a few spices at the next chance." Ignis raised his mug again before seemingly changing him mind, lowering it without taking a sip. "No, everything is just fine. Simply thoughts that won't settle for the night."

Owen pushed himself from the recliner, standing and walking to Ignis' side where he leaned against the counter beside him. "Ever thoughtful." Owen observed, setting his right hand on the counter between them. "Almost to a flaw." Ignis mused, moving his left hand down to accept the silent offering. As he rested his hand on Owen's his fingers slid between his partner's. Owen took a moment to appreciate the unhindered contact as he lifted his fingers, tightening them against Ignis'.

The two stayed together in silence, enjoying one another's present in the night while the both of them being too tired to do much else. After several minutes Owen yawned, the fatigue having shifted back into sleepiness. As he realized that his legs were hurting less Ingis spoke up. "Looks to me as if the coffee is working as intended." Owen took one more sip, the drink having grown a bit more tolerable. Just a bit. "Looks like it." He moved from the counter to dump the remaining liquid in the nearby sink, rinsing the black ring from the cup. "Not entirely useless having decaf around. I say I'm feeling more at ease myself," Ignis said, moving from the counter. Stepping aside Owen gave him room to clean his own cup.

As he set it to the side to dry Owen moved towards him, placing his chest against his back and resting his chin on his shoulder. "What say we try to get a bit more shut eye. We might have more luck if we spend the rest of the night together~" With a chuckle Ignis turned his head, and as he craned his neck Owen leaned closer, moving in so they could press their lips together. The contact sent a tingle through his body that made him forget all about the pinpricks in his feet, and after letting it linger for a moment Ignis pulled back, his breath rolling against Owens lips in passing. "If not, I'm sure we could find some way to occupy ourselves." The offer made Owen smile, and as he gave him one more quick peck he took a step backwards, letting Ignis turn around. "I'm sure we could."

The two of them were fast asleep within minutes of wrapping their arms around one another.

[hereissomething]

i made a magic potion that helps me sleep at night and dream about old man balls🥴

[notastraykid]

When people write a character with insomnia, they always do it as a person who is tossing and turning, getting upset as they're so tired but it's not really like that - in my life and experience, anyway...

For me it's just lying there, wide awake. Not even trying to sleep because you know it's not going to happen. There is no tossing and turning because what's the point. Literally there is no sleepiness, no drowsiness. Just. Awake. As if it was the middle of the day. Laying there, warm and cozy, resigned to the fact you'll hear the birds start to sing soon (or in my life it's seagulls. I don't class them as birds as they don't sing. They're just loud rats with wings who scream and steal food off you when you go to take a bite. But that's another story.)

You'll hear your neighbours start to move around and cars pass the house. People will do an early dog walk, maybe, or gross as it sounds, go for a jog.

You're still on yesterday but they've time travelled through their sleep to the next day.

I guess it's more like an internal defeat. It's not going to happen. You know it. Your body knows. You're just going to lay there and accept it until it's time to get up.

Yeah you could get up and do something "productive" when you check and see it's stupid o'clock in the morning, but you won't. Why won't you? Because there is one small, minute, itty bitty piece of hope that you could fall asleep. What if you get out of bed and that moment passes your bed and you're not there? That was your chance?! No. You'll stay in the warmth, with the disappointment of what could have been dancing around your brain.

Then you have that lovely special moment when your alarm clock goes and the new days begins. Even better if it's now a Monday.

[br0kenjoiints]

This isn't really a fanfic idea, but if you do headcanons, can i req some NSFW headcanons for Shuu Tsukiyama from tokyo ghoul? 🤯

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ NSFW headcanons: Shuu Tsukiyama !

a/n: Hi anon! thank u sm for the req! in fact i do write hcs for characters and tsukiyama is actually one of my fav tg characters, so i obviously couldnt knock this req back! i wrote this at exactly 1:02am on the night b4 my bday, so sorry I cut it short, I was literally falling asleep while typing, welp, hope its what you asked for!

CW: smut warning

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₊ ⊹ Alright, starting off easy, Tsukiyama is gentle. He prefers romantic and slow sex over rough and fast sex. He would prefer to savour and cherish the moment rather than get it over quickly.

₊ ⊹ He is a sucker for neck and throat kisses.

₊ ⊹ Kinda in conjunction with the last headcanon, but I think he’s some sensitive area is his neck.

₊ ⊹ Absolutely loves when his s/o leaves hickies along his neck, probably into light biting as well because…well, he wants nothing more than to taste his s/o.

₊ ⊹ Not quiet at all. Very dramatic and likes to emphasise his moans. On everyone and their uncles, he definitely spews a series of French words when he orgasms.

₊ ⊹ Possibly into some light bondage, nothing too extreme. Just the usual blindfolds and handcuffs. Nothing to extra, yk?

₊ ⊹ Loves lace, especially white lace. Thinks it’s so elegant, loves it when his s/o wears anything lace in the bedroom.

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[whumpshots]

Whump Snippet Saturday #28

Whumpee looks up at the clear sky with tired eyes. Star gazing has become an involuntary hobby since the nightmares took over and disrupt their sleep every night. They just want to close their eyes and rest, nothing more and nothing less. Exhaustion makes it hard to make it through the day, mind racing, body begging to get some rest.

But apparently, this is too much to ask for. Everytime they try to sleep, they see the fucked up things that they have been through, altered and horrifying versions of it or just straight up things that don't make sense but still put them in a state of panic.

So star gazing it is ... left alone with their thoughts and the things that might be when they go to bed.

This night, however, is different. Caretaker sits down next to them on the porch, looking at the sky with a soft smile. "It's always so quiet out here." Whumpee just hums in response and keeps their eyes focused on the sky.

Having someone close by makes them feel less agitated, less jumpy and frightened. Caretaker scoots closer and their shoulders touch. Whumpee huffs and puts their head on caretaker's shoulder, looking up at the sky until their eyes close and they fall asleep.

The comfort and warmth stays the whole night, whumpee wakes up in their bed, caretaker next to them, arms wrapped around them to hold them close, keep them safe. The first time since what feels like an eternity, whumpee slept through the night without being woken up.

[niwatari-rei]

will you please do me the honor of writing....... insomnia's creator? :>

The man sighed, looking at the artwork. “Do you ever…It’s nothing.” Now what was it that his own creator was trying to ask of it? The look in his eyes seemed to be resigned to whatever he had decided on. “Do you mind telling me more about this world?” It asked, always curious about how things were on the other side. Perhaps it was its own imagination but there seemed to be a sad smile on the creator before it disappeared. “I suppose I can. It’s probably boring where you are, isn’t it?” He hummed in deep thought. It listened intently, dreaming of the day that it would one day walk amongst people.

[gotyouanyway]

started writing got distracted. was kinda onto something though 👀

[unclekaz]

talking to one of my friends and i mentioned off the cuff that id like to eventually think about nolan after twenty years. like him being 48-ish and just as miserable but now he has the wisdom to be just as idiotic as he is when he's 27

unfortunately their immediate reaction was 'i have to draw him.' and now i have a middle-aged man saved to my phone and i can't do fuckin anything with it yet

so check it man. i understand the vision that they had to express through artwork honestly

[savage-rhi]

Magensia?