#my drabble

[sinsdaycorp]

“you do see all her red flags, right?” Yoko asked as she saw what enid was doing.

Enid grinned. “are you kidding? They’re not warning flags… it’s more like a carnival!”

Yoko, sighed. “whatever you say, pup. Just be careful.”

Enid, beaming a smile as she folds up a piece of paper and taps Bianca’s shoulder. The siren turns to look at her curiously.

Enid hands her the paper and points to Wednesday as she whispered “pass this to Addams.”

Bianca grabbed the paper and leaned across her desk, poking Wednesday in the shoulder with her pen.

Wednesday glares but her look changes to confusion as Bianca hands her the folded note. She hesitantly takes it and bianca gestured to Enid who was watching with anticipation.

Wednesday turns to her desk properly and unfolds the note, Enid’s hastily written words stare back at her.

Would you like to be my date to the Rave’n?

🔳 🔳

Yes/No

(Tick a box!)

Wednesday glanced back towards the wolf, she appeared to be almost deflating with worry as Wednesday turned back to the page and picked up her pen.

The bell chimed as Wednesday finished on the paper, she folded it up and packed her items up. She had the next class with a seat right beside Enid, so the blonde could surely wait the extra few minutes.

-

Wednesday settled her pen, notebook, and the note neatly on her desk as she sat down. She glanced at the note before sucking in a breath and slid it towards Enid as the blonde took her seat.

Enid smiled tightly when their eyes met and took the note.

“Sinclair, Addams- no note passing. Separate!”

The teacher said.

“We weren’t, she was just letting me have a headache tablet,” Enid said, holding up her water bottle and a a strip of painkillers that she kept in her pencil case where she’d stuffed the note quickly.

The teacher nodded and Enid sighed in relief before taking a sip of her water.

She slid her bottle to the side and flicked her eyes to the note poking out, her gaze lifted to see the teacher watching her as he spoke and she shrunk in her seat slightly, her whole body burning with a need to read what Wednesday had spent the last minutes of the last class writing.

The teacher turned to the board, pointing as he spoke and she took her opportunity to pull the paper from her case, quietly unfolding it before she looked down at it, her head tilting before she coughed to cover a soft laugh.

Instead of ticking a box, Wednesday had quickly drawn an uno reverse card and written beneath it. “I was going to ask you tonight. Meet on the balcony at 7?”

Enid saw Wednesday looking at her out of her peripheral so she nodded quickly and tucked the note into her pencil case for safe keeping.

[97keanu]

Please we need more young John wick 😭

Young!John Wick x Ballerina!Reader

Drabble: Jardani shows you the ropes of wrestling secretly while you two are training together with the Ruska Roma. You show him a few things you’ve learned from being brought up as a ballerina, which is that your greatest strength is to look pretty and steal the show. Jardani, however, reminds you that he is a fast learner.

Your breathing comes in harder and harder breathes, and you try to hide it, hide how much this is all taking out of you. You’re not used to this, usually only the boys were taught to fight like this, while you were more used to subtly in frilly white ballet skirts and powdery pink slippers. This was a whole new territory for you, and as your sparing partner lifts you with ease once more, and gently despite his firm grip, pins you to the ground once more.

“You ballerina’s really are soft, huh?” Jardani says with a smirk, his voice quiet and controlled unlike your labored breathing.

His teasing only ignites your will, which, in retrospect, was likely his goal all along.

You say nothing as his face is still so close to yours, in fact, your mind turns to a different approach. If beating him in sheer strength was not your strong point, then you can do what you were taught to do.

You let the breath between the two of you linger, your eyes softening into his. You see Jardani’s dark brown eyes drift, confused as to why you’re so much more relaxed in his arms, why your eyelids are fluttering softly, why your gaze has drifted down to his lips with a look of helplessness and want.

As Jardani begins to lean into you, just as you planned for him to do, you catch him off guard, slipping out of his grasp when he least expects it, and flipping him so you’re straddling his waist now, his hands pinned. He stares up at you with his mouth open to say something, anything that doesn’t incriminate him at the moment.

“Who’s the soft one again?” You say with a grin and watch as he gazes up at you with a mixture of the greatest awe you’ve seen in a man, and an equal amount of annoyance. John says nothing as you stand, holding out a hand for him to bring himself up with.

He has never been the type of man to feel emasculated by such a gesture, so he takes your hand with ease, the rough calluses on his much more apparent than yours. He lets the momentum of being pulled up pull you closer to him, until your skin touches his, forearm against his chest, almost too comfortably fitting there. He looks into your eyes now, as if he has never seen a prettier color in his life, a look you have never really seen from him before. He is usually so tense, so quiet, so stern despite his youth, but now he stands before you as a young man. A young man whose eyes drift to your pretty pink lips, and take you in with a want that was only natural. Without even really thinking, the adrenaline from the sparing clouding your mind, and being so close to Jardani now, where you can see him so closely watching you, you lean into his body.

You watch as a silent grin breaks out from those more than kissable lips of his, and your want of him sours with the taste of your own medicine being thrown back at you.

“You forget that I am a quick learner.” Jardani chirps with that almost punchable grin he gets when he wins.

You give him a light shove, hands firm against his muscular chest, and resisting the urge to think to hard about it, instead trying to give your best angry face at him, but you can’t stay mad. The two of you break out laughing, something only you two can ever share with each other. Something that wasn’t allowed or encouraged by The Director. Something you two can relish in each other just to get through all this.

You continue your sparing lesson with Jardani with a lighter spirit between the two of you.

[ladycatofwinterfell]

Sick Ned high on milk of the poppy. He has no filter and can’t stop flirting with Cat even in front of poor maester luwin.

Maester Luwin has once again been exposed to things he would rather not be exposed to, Ned has an unknown sickness/injury and Cat is tired. I cannot emphasise this enough; enjoy!

Maester Luwin had decided he would not die very quickly. There would be pain, or would take time to make a recovery, though in the end he would have his health and there was no danger to his life.

Therefore Catelyn did not worry for him particularly much. Of course she was unhappy with the state of her husband and felt his pain deeply, she wanted nothing but for him to be well again. Though she did not have the time to think of him. With Ned indisposed many of his duties passed to her, so there was much to occupy her thoughts with.

Though she took the time to visit him whenever she could. Most of the time he was asleep, then she merely sat at his bedside. Embroidered, mended clothing, read a book. That day was different, she had been told he was awake and had asked for her.

Her lord had asked for her and so she had put aside what she was doing and gone to him. It would be good to see those eyes of his for once, and hear his voice.

“Cat!” Ned said when she came into his chamber.

His gaze was somewhat foggy, he seemed to have trouble focusing on her. Still she had to smile when she saw him. He was right there all the time, though she missed him all the same. Missed having him with her more often.

Maester Luwin stood by Ned’s bedside. He said nothing, though nodded towards her.

“Good day, my love” she said to Ned.

He smiled back at her, looking surprisingly joyful for a man that should have been in terrible pain.

When she came to sit on the edge of the bed his smile grew even wider.

“How are you feeling?”

She reached towards him to touch his cheek. His beard had grown rather unruly, she would have to see to that.

“Better now when you’re here.”

He made himself more comfortable against the pillows, then took her hand and brought it from his cheek to his lips to kiss her knuckles.

“Are you not in pain?”

Officially the question was directed towards Ned, though she looked at Maester Luwin. Ned, of course not understanding that, began mumbling something incoherently.

“I give him as much of the milk of the poppy as I dare, my lady” Maester Luwin told her. “He should not be–“

Suddenly Ned’s words became more coherent, leading the poor maester to trail off into silence.

“I need no milk of the poppy when I have you.”

Catelyn squeezed his hand, letting her thumb run over the back.

“That is sweet, my dearest, though it would be good if you did not interrupt Maester Luwin.”

“I take no offence, my lady” Luwin assured her with a nod.

Both of them were well aware it was the milk of the poppy that was speaking, not Ned. He was not acting like himself.

Catelyn turned back to Ned.

“I was told you asked for me. Do you have something you wish to say?”

He blinked slowly, as if trying to remember what it was he wanted. She expected he would ask of the children or the grain stores or something else that had appeared in his mind. It was probably not doing him well to be indisposed and of no use.

“You’re beautiful” was what he actually said.

“Thank you, though what was it you wanted to tell me?”

Perhaps trying to get it out of him was an impossible task, though she could try. If he had wanted her to come there had to be something.

“I miss you” he continued.

She was with him more often than he was aware of.

“You should be better soon, then you will see me all the time.”

Then he would never be rid of her.

“I dream of you. What the maester gives me makes me dream.”

Maester Luwin cleared his throat.

“It’s very common with this–“

Once again Ned began talking over him and Catelyn could not help but sigh.

“It makes me ache for you.”

“Ned” Catelyn said firmly.

She did her very best to give him a stern look, though she believed it was ruined by that she was also a little amused by it.

When she glanced at Maester Luwin she saw that he had found a very interesting spot in the ceiling that he was studying.

“I want your skin–“

It was her turn to interrupt him, though she did so by placing her free hand over his mouth as she suspected he would not have listened to her otherwise.

“Oh hush with you, that is most improper.”

Ned raised his eyebrows at her, then she felt a sharp pain in the palm of her hand, making her immediately pull it back again.

“Did you bite me?” she exclaimed.

It had happened before, of course, though never in the palm of her hand. And never when they were not alone.

“Just a nip” Ned solemnly informed her. “You have never complained before.”

“Do forgive him, Maester Luwin, he is not acting like himself” she sighed.

Maester Luwin was not yet finished studying his finding in the ceiling, and he did not look at her as her answered.

“Lord Stark is affected by the poppy milk.”

The ridiculousness of it all struck her as she once again looked at her bedridden husband. It would be good to have him back on his feet again, she hoped it would be soon. And she prayed he would then continue to be in good health.

“I will leave you now as you so clearly cannot handle my presence” she chuckled.

Never before had she seen her lord husband pout, and she believed she would never see it again.

She leaned down and kissed his forehead, felt his fingers ghost over her cheek as she did so.

“Come back soon” he whispered.

“I will be back when I have time.”

When he was once again asleep and unaware of that she was there.

Maester Luwin did have a look of relief on his face as she nodded towards him and left the room. Perhaps he had tried to hide it, but she saw. And she understood it.

Catelyn met Robb not far away from there.

“How is Father? Can I visit him?”

“Perhaps you should wait” she told him. “He’s rather up on the clouds, the milk of the poppy makes his head very foggy.”

And his tongue very loose.

[lilyoffandoms]

Blades Drabble - Aerin x Raine

Warnings & A/N: Nothing that’s not canon compliant. Angst no happy. For @oh-so-youre-a-nerd. Totally thought I had posted this weeks ago.

Raine jolts awake. His heart racing, his breathing short, adrenaline coursing through his body. It takes him a moment to remember where he is. He’s here, it’s familiar. Not there, it’s not suffocating. There is still pain, always pain, but it is not that searing pain, it is an empty pain.

The night is still late, dark, but not in the oppressive way he remembers feeling in his nightmares. Stars still paint the sky above him and those fires remind him that he is in the realm of Light. They are visible unlike in his nightmares. He recognizes the constellations and realizes he could find his way home if he wished, unlike there, unlike in his nightmares.

He lays and listens to the night around him. The lonely wind shifting the sands into smooth patterns. The same sun-warmed sand, now cold beneath him, with the temperature having dropped considerably lower than when they had settled in for the night. But it feels familiar. It feels comforting in its own way, not like the bone-numbing coldness of there. Not like his nightmares.

He rolls onto his side and watches the fire dance in the breeze before him. Tyril having clearly kept it lit throughout his watch. Across the firelight, Raine recognizes the shapes of his travel companions.

He frowns. Shouldn’t he call them his friends? Didn’t he call them his friends yesterday? He worries that thought in his head. When did he stop calling them his friends?

Only yesterday he would have called them his friends. But yesterday was so long ago, wasn’t it? Yesterday was exactly a year ago, a long time for all of them, his friends. 

Time. 

Giving them plenty of time.

Time to find new friends.

Time for new adventures.

Time for new lives. 

Time to forget him. 

Time to move past him.

He groans and rolls onto his back again, running a hand down his tired face before rolling from the fire to look out into the night.

This dark is different from the other dark he is all too familiar with now. Somehow that dark feels like it’s crept into him. He supposes that makes sense. If you spend so long in one place, it can seep into you and find a home in all the unmapped corners of your being. And shadow thrives in those hidden corners.

A year.

A year is a hell of a long time.

Time.

Time to find yourself changed. 

He saw it in all of them but it didn’t feel real. It felt otherworldly. It felt like a parallel world where his friends looked like his friends, sounded like his friends, but with subtle changes that he could chalk up to a year having passed without him.

He’s alive, that’s what matters. Or at least that’s what should matter, he tries to remind himself. But he had to save himself. No one came for him. He crossed the known realm and another realm to reach his brother but no one could be bothered for him.

They didn’t cross the realms, they stayed where they were comfortable. Mal in Whitetower, continuing to thieve his way through every noble’s treasury. Nia in Whitetower, continuing to serve a religion that sought its wealth and importance on the backs of the poor. Imtura, continuing to look for entertainment at the bottom of every cup and the edge of every blade. Tyril, continuing his mission to better the elves and their kingdom while strengthening his own house. Kade, continuing his organization of the vast libraries of Whitetower that undoubtedly contained the knowledge needed to save his brother.

Not one of them bothered to look for more than a fleeting moment in time. Had they at least spent a few months searching for a way to save him or had it been merely weeks? Days? Hours?

It didn’t matter, what mattered was that no one came. Not one of them.

Then there was Aerin.

At one time Raine would have believed that Aerin would have come for him if he had been free but Raine had ensured his imprisonment by returning him to the Light realm and his father’s justice.

In a way, Raine supposed, he had sealed his own fate. The one person in the realm probably capable of freeing him from the Shadow realm was stuck behind bars because of his sense of moral superiority. He had wanted justice, wanted to show Aerin that there are consequences to each action we take.

Would Aerin have saved him from the Ash Empire if he had been allowed to remain in the Shadow realm?

“Fuck,” he whispered into the cold desert night.

If it wasn’t the consequences of his own actions now in the empty void of this all.

No. No he would not have.

Raine refused to believe that Aerin would have saved him even then. For the truth was, Aerin runs. 

He had shown Raine his true feelings when he left him alone in the bed they had shared with nothing but a note filled with platitudes and zero explanation. 

The real truth was staring him in the face as he looked over the emptiness of the desert.

No one would have come for him.

No one cared to risk that for him.

No one. Not for him.

He was alone. And that truth remained.

He is utterly alone.

——————————

Choices Tag: @storyofmychoices @aallotarenunelma @inlocusmads

[englass]

Concept/Title: Touch

Pairing(s): John Seed x Fem!Reader (because I was thinking of him when I started this, but—), Male!Character x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 402

Warning(s): NSFW/Explicit, Filth and Fluff, Implied Yandere? (was aiming for that originally but don’t think it completely carried through— oops)

A/N(s): I once famously said that Plains and Valleys would (very likely) be my only smut piece… As you can see, that’s now not quite true 🙈😅

-/-/-

You gasp, twitching in your prone position against the sheets. Held down gently by your lover as you keen high and reedy, his arm pinned across your abdomen as the fingers of his free hand curl inside you. Drawing out your orgasm and threatening to push you into another as he mouths at your cunt, tongue flat and firm against your clit as a satisfied growl rumbles in his chest.

The deep sound makes you clench tighter around his fingers, has you whining prettily for him as he rewards you with a teasing brush of his lips, a brief and gentle scrap of teeth against your sensitive skin.

God, you’re so gorgeous, he utters, voice wrecked between your thighs, so pretty for me like this; could watch you cum on my fingers all day. Fuck, I love you, —

Teeth sink into the meat of your thigh, a passionate bite that has you yelping as he suddenly thrust his fingers as deep as they can go with a growling snarl. Tears beading in the corners of your eyes at the sweet sting of overstimulation. Hand blindly grabbing at his wrist as you bite into the back of your other hand, barely stifling the almost tortured whine of his name.

I need you to cum for me again, he pants, sucking and worrying his tongue in a purposeful drag over the impromptu bite mark, Can you do that for me, sweetheart? You gonna be a good girl and cum for me, hm?

The tears run down the side of your face, writhing amongst the twisted sheets with a shake of your head. Wanting a reprieve from the onslaught of sensation against your sensitive skin.

No? Leaning close, bracketing you in under his sturdy form, his breath a hot caress against your ear and his thumb a soothing sweep across your tacky cheeks, brushing your tears away, Not even on my cock?

The offer makes you tighten around his fingers, whimper as that sting eases into something more, interest piqued as a new hunger curls low within your stomach.

You’ve been such a good girl for me. Doing so well taking my fingers, looking so pretty cumming on my tongue. Don’t you want more?

He moves down then back up. Lips kissing and brushing in a leisurely descent and climb over your stomach, chest, neck, jaw and cheek. Stopping once again to teasingly breath into your sensitive ear, Don’t you want me?

[ezralva]

*Kusahigu at the end of another tiring day of training with the kids, strategic meeting for auspicious battle with sukuna, and sparring each other...*

Higuruma opens the door from his en suite bathroom, fresh from the shower and already dressed in his sleepwear, to find Kusakabe nonchalantly sits on his bed, his hair is still damp from the shower. The lack of lollipop stick jutting out of his mouth a telltale that the man is already prepared to sleep. As usual giving off the 'i don't give a f*ck' expression yet Higuruma noticed a tray of meal on his nightstand. His dinner, undoubtedly brought by the man who is now scrolling down his smartphone with a bored face, on Higuruma's bed. That is his usual excuse to others so he can easily go into Higuruma's bedroom without being followed by the others' questioning stares.

Higuruma knows what this means. He should've eaten first. But both of them also know they have another need. It only takes three steps of him to the bed before they both cling to each other, smelling each other's fresh scent and holding onto each other's presence, still alive and breathing and that's all they need to know. Their lips easily find each others and slot seamlessly against each other. Their hands slowly caress and stroke, the back, the shoulders, the hair, anything they can grab, before they begin pawing at each other's clothes...

And just like that, Higuruma's dinner is quickly forgotten...

This is more important. This is their routine now. To recharge themselves with each other after a long winded day...

[samsexualdeancurious]

Balloon Solutions

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Words: 287

Summary: Sam keeps losing his girlfriend in a crowd.

Warnings: short & fem identifying reader

---

The carnival is packed, crowds of people pressing in on all sides. Sam is on edge. Too loud, too many smells, too many unpredictable strangers to keep an eye on. Any of them could be the witch and he keeps losing Y/N in the crowd because she walks too fucking fast and won’t just hold his hand.

“You’re too short,” he growls when he’s caught up to her again.

“For someone your height, you walk really slow,” she retorts.

“Can you please just stick by me?”

She sighs and nods but within thirty minutes, she’s pulled ahead and been separated from him again by the crowd. Fucking hell. At this rate, they’re going to get separated by more than a few people, and then she’ll be all alone with a witch on the loose. Thank God, she’s not at all the witch’s victim profile - that’s Dean’s area, which is why he’s pouting back at the motel with autopsy files and witness statements to pour over - but Sam would still rather stick together.

As he catches up with her again, though, he spots a solution.

--

“This is dumb,” Y/N grumbles, picking at the knot where Sam tied the balloon’s ribbon around her wrist. “I feel like a little kid.”

She jerks her arm and the balloon bobs above her head. It’s neon green, with bright blue and pink flowers printed all over it. Sam picked that specific design because it’s obnoxiously bright and he hasn’t seen a single other person with one.

“It’s this or a leash,” Sam replies and she flips him off.

“You’re lucky I like you.”

He kisses the top of her head. “Love you, too. Go walk as fast as you want.”

[lilolilyr]

A family fluff Bering & Wells drabble for @flufftober day 2, rated G, no warnings

[danime25]

Want You To Want Me

masterlist // ao3

*Summary: Richard was tired of the girls. Girls at school looking at him, asking for his number at lunch... not when he had his eyes set on only one person. And he only wanted the other's eyes on him too.

*Rating: M for Mature Audiences

*Content/Tags: Mild Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Internalized Homophobia, First Kisses, Mild Angst, Canon Compliant

*Status: Drabble/Complete

“Thank you.” Richard smiled at his accomplice as the other student before him struck the killing blow. It was brutal, and Richard had now wished it’d been him that committed the crime. Still, he had Justin’s admiration for helping keep the woman locked up and that… was all Richard needed. 

Life wasn’t hard for Richard Haywood. He was a rich, blond kid in Cali. He was good looking, but he wasn’t a total meathead. Practically every girl in school knew him, but that never seemed to be enough for him. Not until he was in the sight of Justin. Justin was a quiet kid, a loner. Frankly, a loser by all accounts. He had transferred into the district as a sophomore and Richard had made his life a living hell at first. Something about the way that Justin would talk about philosophy and the shit like that made Richard boiling mad. Something about his confidence when he spoke. Like he had some profound life experience that Richard wouldn’t get in before he graduated from high school. So when Justin asked him what his deal was, Richard didn’t have an answer. When Justin called him out on his lack of an answer, rather than try to charm his way out of it he let himself get caught. No one had seen this deep into him before and something just seemed to click. Richard couldn’t say it. Not out loud, not even to himself, but the way that Richard looked at Justin was exactly the same as all those girls looked right at Richard.

And he couldn’t stand it. He didn't want their eyes on him. He didn’t want anyone but Justin to look at him. He didn’t want these stirrings in his chest everytime Justin would brush up against him in the doorway out of their biology class. He needed to be Justin’s only. So when Justin asked him if he needed help in Bio, he took the chance he could get. Justin was brilliant, and Richard seemed to learn so much from him. Taking the tests were easier knowing that Justin had taught him the material, and he could see the other student in his sightline whenever he couldn’t remember.

“Answer is B…” Richard would whisper to himself as he remembered the way that Justin’s hand grazed over his own to explain where each part of a cell was.

When Justin told Richard about crime scene forensics, he seemed to light up in a totally different way. Richard leaned as close as Justin would let him while he talked, asking him for more information about what clothing fibers on victims told forensic profilers. He looked Justin in the eyes as he closed the contact between the two of him and he felt something in his chest. Yes it was that stirring he’d felt but much more intense. Justin should’ve pushed him away. Guys weren’t supposed to kiss guys. His hands worked his way under Justin’s shirt. Even though he was running out of breath he was terrified that if he broke away from the kiss now, Justin would never touch him like this again. Justin leaned more into the kiss, pushing Richard’s back up against the wall and placing his hands firmly along Richard’s side. Justin moved a leg in between Richard’s legs to keep him from moving. When Richard finally pulled away, panting he pressed his forehead against Justin’s and said, “So. What can foot prints tell those fucking cops?”

Justin had never been so happy to tell someone just how easy it was to fake a lead.

---

It was a level of bliss Richard never had experienced before. To be so completely tangled up in someone else that it felt as if they were one. While Richard was loud and needed everyone to know how normal he was at school, when it was just him and Justin at the overlook it was like they were in their own world. Justin was pouring over a new book Richard had bought for him on fingerprints. He leaned in and held his little lighter up against Justin’s cheek, before allowing his lips to press against the soft but slightly rough skin. Justin smirked a little bit, knowing he had the popular guy in school wrapped around his finger like this. He returned Richard’s kiss with a playful peck on Richard’s nose.

“I meant it though.” Richard whispers into the other student’s ear, “I want to be free. And I want to be free with you.” “We’ll be free. We just need to find someone… and then we’ll do it,” Justin prods his index finger into Richard’s side, “Together.”

“I know.” Richard took Justin’s hand and pressed the other man’s fingertips to his lips. Richard flipped his lighter from out of his pocket and brought it up to right underneath Justin’s fingers, the flame attempting to devour the skin above it. Richard locked eyes with Justin as neither of them flinched. Who would break? Only time would tell.

[sinsdaycorp]

Enid is relaxing on her bed when Wednesday storms into the room, slams the door and tosses her backpack carelessly across to the Color-bare side of the room.

Enid sits up a little, leaning on her elbows about to question Wednesday when the raven closes her eyes, clenches her fists and takes a few deep breaths to try and calm herself.

Thing wobbles a little as he crawls out of Wednesdays bag and scurries to Enid’s side of the room, tapping and moving his fingers quickly.

Pugsley is transferring to Nevermore.

Enid blinks a little then stands, giving thing her phone so the hand can play a game on it while she hesitantly moves towards Wednesday, carefully resting a hand on the goths elbow.

“What can I do to help?”

Wednesday opens her eyes and is a little taken aback that she didn’t check the room before her tiny tantrum.

“Nothing. I apologise if I distracted you from anything.”

Enid rolls her eyes but opens her arms. “C’mon, Nes. Give your favourite wolf a hug. They’re very calming.”

Wednesday’s lip twitches at the corner as she tries to fight the smile the blonde always manages to bring to her lips. Stepping forward, Wednesday hid her face against Enid’s neck, her arms dangling at her sides as Enid wraps her in a tight hug.

“Tighter?” Enid asked after a moment.

Wednesday nodded, a sigh escaping her as Enid tightened her hold and Wednesdays back rippled and popped with a crack running up her spine.

“Thank you,” Wednesday murmured after a few more deep breaths left her lungs.

“What else are girlfriends for?” Enid asked, pressing a light kiss to the top of Wednesdays head as the goth slowly pilled away.

“You know you’re more useful than that, Enid.”

Enid shrugged with a smile. “I know, I just like being useful, especially for you.”

Wednesday leaned up on her toes, pressing a gentle kiss to the blondes lips. “Would you-“ Wednesdays eyes flickered to her bed and then back to Enid.

“You want more cuddles?” Enid offered.

“Please.”

Enid smiled brighter and scooped Wednesday up, carrying her to the black bedding, laying down with Wednesday lying on top of her, her arms folded around Wednesday lower back as she held on firmly.

“Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, Nes. I love you.”

“I love you too, Enid.”

[snifflyjoonie]

drabble prompt: namjoon catching a cold and being self conscious and embarrassed every time someone brings it up. someone (maybe yoongi?) firmly tells him it's not a big deal and that he should just get tf over it and accept their help. (also lots of snz please lol <3)

Thank you for the request! I’m so excited to post but also super nervous!! I hope you guys like this short little thing.

Drabble #1:

“hH’nNGKt!”

Namjoon whips his body away from the table and crumples into his hands, very aware of the pause in conversation around him. He stays in this position a moment, hesitant to sit back up just in case he —

“nN’GKt!”

—does it again. He blows out a breath and drags his hands down his face with a wet sniffle, rising back up in defeat. He doesn’t want to draw attention to himself, but knows it’s inevitable. He braces himself for the other’s comments.

“Hyung, you alright?”

It’s Jungkook, because of course it’s Jungkook. Namjoon opens his mouth to respond but before he can get a single word out Yoongi is speaking instead.

“Sounds like he’s caught a cold.” Yoongi mumbles nonchalantly, “nothing serious.”

Namjoon instantly flushes. He had been prepared to brush Jungkook off, insist he was fine, and most definitely not let on to feeling under the weather…but clearly his hyung had other plans. He flaps his mouth open and closed, too taken off guard to retaliate — he’s not even sure how Yoongi clued in so fast in the first place. Was he that obvious?

“Oh, really?” This time it’s Jimin. “Namjoon-hyung, why didn’t you say something? We could have postponed this.” He gestures vaguely towards the meeting table and the other members.

“Uh,” Namjoon finds his voice again and clears his throat, very aware of everyone’s gaze focused curiously on him. “I’m really…” He trails off as his nose once again buzzes urgently, causing an involuntary gasp of breath. Betrayed by his body for the second time, Namjoon twists away from the group and sneezes much harder into his awaiting hands.

“hH’TTSHhhiue!”

“Namjoon-ah.” The leader winces at the sound of Yoongi’s even-toned voice as he stays ducked down into his hands. “It’s alright. Let’s try this again next week.”

There are hums of agreement as Namjoon flushes redder still, rising back up to meet the concerned glances of his groupmates.

“…Fine.” Namjoon sighs with a sniffle. He’s defeated, embarrassed, and just wants to go home. “I’ll let the staff know. Sorry, everyone.”

Yoongi rises from his seat with a stretch and makes his way to Namjoon, placing a hand down onto the leader’s shoulder. “No, I’ll let them know. You are going back to bed. We’ll see you guys next week.”

[ladycatofwinterfell]

Idk if you’re taking prompts but I just thought about this and 👀

Early in their marriage Ned is already hopelessly in love with Catelyn but he doesn’t think she feels the same and fears she still years for his brother. So when she tells him she’s pregnant again (Sansa) and that she hopes it’s a boy for them to name after Brandon, Ned gets sick with jealously and insecurity and even more sick that he feels like this way, because he knows Catelyn wasn’t supposed to be his wife anyways ✨

I didn’t think of an particular ending so if you want to write this prompt at any point you can get creative. I just LOVE jealous!Ned

I’m always taking prompts! I can’t always fulfil them very quickly and sometimes I never get to them, but it’s always worth throwing me an ask if you have an idea <3

Here is Ned being jealous and insecure with a sweet ending because I just had to. Enjoy!

The first time Ned had ever laid eyes upon his wife was on their wedding day, though he had learned of her long before that. He had never met her gaze before they swore themselves to one another, though he had heard of how blue her eyes were. He had never touched her hair before they took to bed on their wedding night, though he had been told of how soft it was.

He had been fostered in the Vale for years when the betrothal between Brandon and Catelyn was decided upon. He had received the news of it not much later in a letter from his father. Then, not long thereafter, he had been sent a letter from Brandon. By then Brandon had met his future wife and wrote of how she wasn’t a woman grown yet, though that she would be lovely once she was. Blue eyes one could drown in, auburn hair, a face that would be beautiful once she grew into it. Sweet and well mannered with a good head on her shoulder.

When he read the letter Ned had imagined what the girl, Catelyn Tully, looked like. What she was like. He had not paid it much more mind, it had not mattered to him. Why would it? He had not himself been a man grown yet, he had had other concerns. So small and feeble he could not even remember what they were, though they had seemed great to him then.

Over the years that lead up to the wedding Ned had heard of Catelyn Tully many times. Through letters and from Brandon when he visited home. He had listened with half an ear as his brother bragged about the woman he would marry, it had not been important. Until suddenly it was so very important.

Brandon had died and Ned had taken his place. In the end Ned had been the one to wed Catelyn Tully. It had been difficult to truly see her on the day of their wedding, his mind had been flooded with so many other things. So much death and destruction.

The pain remained once the dust had settled and they were both in Winterfell. Though life was calmer, it was easier to see. See for himself all that Brandon had told him of.

Brandon had not exaggerated when he spoke of Catelyn. She was beautiful, she was sweet and kind, she was clever and had her wits with her. His people took to her quickly and she was a good mother to their son.

His brother had never mentioned if Catelyn thought as highly of him as he did of her. Still she must have. Brandon had been handsome and charming. All girls had wanted Brandon, everyone had wanted Brandon. So had always been the way of things. Of course Catelyn had wanted to wed him, of course she had loved him. No one could fault her for it, he had been her betrothed and for years she had known she would be his wife.

With a sigh Ned fell back on his bed, looking up at the canopy above him. The thought of Catelyn was eating at his mind, leaving him with a weight on his chest. One moment he looked at her and felt his heart flutter, the next he found himself full of dread.

A few days earlier they had been in quarrel over Jon again. She had once again asked him to send the boy away, Ned had once again refused. As it had been for almost three years and would continue to be. Before he had been left more angered than anything else, that time he had felt something else. He had been angry with her, though it had been tinged with something else. Some regret. Not over bringing Jon home, but over speaking so harshly to her. It had not been necessary, he could have remained calm even when faced with her persistence in wanting Jon gone. What she said did not matter, he knew Jon would remain in Winterfell.

Catelyn had been cold to him since, only spoke to him when necessary. He had returned that. The thought of apologising had crossed his mind, still he had not done so. Apologising to her was difficult. Everything that had to do with her was difficult.

Ned shot up into a sitting position when there was a knock on his door. He considered sending whoever it was away. He was tired. So tired. He wanted the day to be through, wanted no one else to speak to him.

“It’s Catelyn, my lord” a voice said before he had made his decision. “May I enter?”

What business did she have with him at that hour? Was it something that had to do with Robb? He could not refuse her.

“Come!” he called as he pushed himself off the bed.

He was glad for that he had not had time to undress.

Even as he had called for her to enter he had to wait before she did so. Enough time for his heart to start beating faster. Enough for him to regret not having told her they could speak on the morrow.

Catelyn was not smiling when she opened the door, though a smile appeared on her face when she looked at him. He was surprised by that smile, by how joyful she seemed.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, my lady?” he asked.

“I have something I wish to tell you” Catelyn said, her eyes gleaming. ”May I sit?”

The way her joy made him feel somewhat suspicious sickened him. Why was he not happy that she was happy?

”Of course.”

He gestured towards the two chairs by the bedchamber’s hearth and Catelyn immediately moved to sit. She sat on the very edge of the seat, folding her hands in her lap.

Something in him wished to resist when he followed her lead and sat in the other chair.

”What did you wish to tell me, my lady?”

”I have been wanting to tell you all day” she began. ”Though I waited for a good moment to do so and that moment never presented itself. Forgive me for disturbing you so late in the day, my lord, I simply could not wait any longer.”

”You need not apologise” he assured her.

She was free to visit his bedchamber whenever she wished. If she wished to do so, that was.

Catelyn took a deep breath and then paused. While Ned waited for her to speak she left her chair and moved it closer to his before sitting again. That time she did not keep her hands in her lap, she instead took one of his hands into the both of hers.

For a second Ned forgot how to breathe, not made easier by what Catelyn said.

”I’m with child.”

His wife was with child, he would be a father again. Then the happiness washed over him, took him under entirely.

Last time she had been with child he had learned of it from a letter he had read in the middle of a war camp. It had brought him joy, though it had also brought a terrible worry. Then the times had been uncertain, it was no longer like that. The war was over, both of them were safe in Winterfell. They would have another child together, a brother or sister for Robb and Jon. Everything was well.

”That’s wonderful, my lady” he smiled, squeezing her hand.

”It’s still early, the maester advised me not to become too hopeful” Catelyn told him. ”Though I cannot help myself.”

“We shall pray to the gods, both old and new, for that everything goes well.”

If the gods saw fit they would have a healthy child.

The thought of holding their newborn child made him warm. He had not been there to hold Robb, it would be different that time.

On a whim he raised one of her hands to his lips and kissed the back of it, making her smile even wider.

His wife, his Lady Catelyn, the mother of his children. They had made another child together, another life that would see the light of day. He wondered what it would look like, what its laughter would sound like, if it would be a boy or a girl.

“To believe you waited all day to tell me” he said.

How was he to sleep? He did not feel at all tired, he felt alive. Happy, so happy.

“I was not allowed to sit with you and tell you last time I was with child” Catelyn said softly. “I wanted it to feel right.”

It felt right, few things had ever felt so right.

“I am overjoyed.”

Never before had that word been so true.

“I hope it’s a boy” Catelyn continued. “If so I wish to name him Brandon for your brother.”

His heart dropped in his chest and it took only a moment for him to despise himself for it.

He had also thought of that, how he wished to name another son of theirs Brandon. Almost every generation of Starks had a Brandon, and he did wish to honour his late brother. The brother that had died because of his attempt to get their sister back. Still something turned in him when Catelyn put forward the suggestion.

There was nothing he could fault her for. She had loved his brother, a part of her most likely still did. Her loyalty to his memory was admirable and Ned had no right to her.

“Brandon is a fine name” he told her.

A good name for their boy. If it was a boy.

“A fine name for what will be a fine boy.”

Ned’s boy, Ned’s child. It should have been Brandon’s. All that belonged to him should have belonged to his brother. Some of it did still belong to his brother, Catelyn’s heart belonged to his brother. Did she wish it had been Brandon’s child? Ned did not truly want an answer.

Though Catelyn was not looking at Brandon, she was looking at him. She looked at him with soft eyes, and there was something he could almost recognise as loving. It made his heart ache.

~*~

Sansa was her name and she was the sweetest girl in the entire world. Small and frail and the most beautiful being Ned had ever seen.

It had been late in the evening when she began her journey into the world and not long after dawn Catelyn had brought her forth. A healthy girl, the maester had fairly quickly established, and the whole castle had breathed a sigh of relief. Ned most of all.

Hours later both mother and daughter were fast asleep. Catelyn in her bed and Sansa in Ned’s arms. Ned himself was rather tired, he had been awake for a day and half, though he did not wish to sleep. He wished to sit in a chair in his wife’s room and hold his newborn daughter so that Catelyn could sleep in peace.

It was a dream to finally be able to hold his child, the wait had been so very long. Since that evening when Catelyn came to tell him of the babe each day had passed slower than the next. Though the birth had come and it was a Sansa, not a Brandon. Ned was not disappointed in the least.

Outside the windows large snowflakes fell from a grey sky. It was not one of the wild and violent snowfalls, it was soft. The kind of snowfall that would have made the world still and silent had it not been for the bells. Bells ringing for the birth of a daughter of Winterfell.

“Do you hear that, little one?” he mumbled. “They ring for you. We have waited for you.”

His perfect daughter. Their perfect daughter. A daughter he and Catelyn had made together.

Sansa moved a little, though stayed asleep. She was so small, smaller than Jon had been. So little she weighed nothing at all, though strong all the same. She would thrive.

Carefully Ned left his seat and walked over to one of the windows, looking out at the castle. The snow wrapped Winterfell in a white blanket, brought a peace to the castle. It was a beautiful sight.

“A day like this the snow is good to you” he said in a low voice. “You will learn it is not always like that. Though I will keep you safe until you also learn how to survive.”

Nothing would harm his little girl.

“Not a day old and you’re warning her of winter.”

He turned and looked at Catelyn.

“I didn’t mean to wake you, forgive me.”

She smiled at him from under heavy eyelids. Her hair, matted with sweat, laid in a braid over her shoulder. She was pale and had dark circles under her eyes. Tired and torn from the night, still she had never been more beautiful.

“It wasn’t due to any fault of yours” she sighed. “It’s difficult to rest easy now.”

The same could not be said of Sansa, she remained asleep.

Ned went to sit on the side of her bed so that Catelyn could also look at the sleeping babe.

“What a beautiful daughter we have” she said softly.

She reached out and let a finger run down Sansa’s red cheek.

“She takes after her mother in that” Ned told her.

Catelyn huffed at that, though he saw that it brought some colour to her face.

“Thank you” Ned said before he could stop himself.

He had looked at Catelyn and their child and been overcome by a wave of gratefulness. Catelyn was his wife and Sansa was his daughter, and it had not been meant to be that way but it was.

“For what?”

“For her.”

He loved Sansa so that his heart ached. It was a good ache. One he wanted more of.

[lilyoffandoms]

Crimes Drabble - Trystan x Lilah

Happy Birthday week, Dani!!

Warnings & A/N: No warnings. Lilah belongs to @storyofmychoices. The quote is actually “I said I liked it. I didn’t say I wanted to kiss it.” from In a Lonely Place.

“Ruby, not tonight,” I sigh.

My drink is smoky and the amber color reflects against my hand as I raise it to my lips. I close my eyes and savor the burn that trails down my throat. It’s smoother than my usual. Uncle Tommy left the good stuff at our table.

A birthday gift, for my favorite niece, he had said.

I’m your only niece, I had chuckled.

That’s why you’re my favorite, he had teased back.

Ruby’s playful tone pulls me back to the present.

“I only asked if you had, you know, any plans with someone tonight,” she grinned.

“My plan is to enjoy this bottle in peace and try not to think about the case load waiting on my desk for me tomorrow.”

“But you’d like to have plans with him tonight.”

It’s a knowing statement rather than a question.

“I admit to wanting quiet. And that will only be achieved by keeping him over there with Luke and you quiet.”

I give her a teasing pointed look.

“I have only question,” she waits my reluctant nod before asking. “Will tonight end in a kiss?”

“Ruby!” I groan.

I throw in an eye roll for good measure and but I can’t stop myself from looking over at him.

I try to keep my features schooled as she leans further across the table and just grins her silly grin at me. I seem the look before. I’ve seen the same body language. Hell, I’ve used the same techniques in the interrogation room.

She’s waiting for me to break.

“You do know that my profession, right? You know I can read tones and between the lines? I know all the tricks in that playbook.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she smirks and keeps her focus on me.

I sit back in my seat and sip my whiskey again and smirk at her over the edge of my glass but not before my eyes dart in his direction again.

“As I suspected,” she chuckles. “You like like him.”

“I said I liked him. I didn’t say I wanted to kiss him.”

Not my finest defense but it will have to do because I’m unable to deny anything as he smiles that infuriating smile and walks over to me.

[klauskalgreeves]

Soap doesn't even spare a moment to think before he leans forward. Their lips met and do nothing else, because Ghost freezes beneath him like stone. He immediately begins to pull back, fearing he's gravely mistaken this growing connection between them. Perhaps it was a mistake. Ghost is still an enigma to him, and his mother had always told him not to go poking at wild animals otherwise he’ll end up hurt.

Instead of sinking his teeth in, Ghost surges forward and all his resolve shatters.

Ghost’s lips brush his; soft and delicate- just long enough that he could inhale his breath—feel the warmth of his skin then he’s gone again. The taste of cigarettes and alcohol linger heavily on his tongue.

A gap is created between them then, and they blink, huffing out little gasps of breath. There's another shrinking moment then they're moving again, and Soap kisses Ghost like he's always wanted to kiss him -like the way he'd always imagined. It's soft and featherlight; hot and breathy. There are no attempts at winning a battle but simply two beings seeking union and closeness and sharing one breath- one sensation- one timeless and passionate moment. The growing heat rises on his cheeks as Ghost’s tongue slips into his mouth, quick and electric and delicious, then firmer, more determined, more curious about the heat that lays within- seeking to chase down the little whines that escape with mouth unbidden.

Soap can do nothing but hang on for the ride, and he arches into curious hands that are pushing against the material of his t-shirt. This seems to excite the other if the somewhat primal growl that reverbs in his mouth has anything to say about it, and Ghost straddles his hips and pushes down. Soap gasps at the friction, arms wrapping around the other's back and clenching the material there between his fingers. Above him, Ghost laughs, and it sounds like gentle chimes and birdsong; like pure bliss and radiance. It's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard.

It's perfect. Everything is perfect, and Soap could burst with the happiness he feels.

"Simon," he whispers.

The name escapes him, unbidden and unfiltered. Raw and real. He's not even aware he said it- not truly- until Ghost is pulling away from him.

Soap blinks at the sudden change in pace and is greeted with such a look of quiet devastation he feels like he's been punched in the gut.

“We can’t do this,” Ghost whispers, and he’s already at arms length and pulling the abandoned mask back over his face.

The moment shatters into little pieces and Soap is left gaping in its wake. He feels flayed- lying here on the floor with his shirt rucked up to his waist.

“Why?” He asks. It’s all he can say.

“We just fuckin’ can’t, alright? Forget this even happened,” Ghost replies, angry now, turning his back on him and leaving the room.

He slams the door on the way out.

Soap lies there for an agonisingly long moment, trying to connect the man who just left the room and the man who was kissing him. His lips tingle, and it’s the only tell that it happened at all.

He thinks about his mothers warning about wild animals and lets his head hit the floor.

He should have listened to her.

[jesuisici33]

Spin

@schittscreekdrabbleblog

Patrick takes a moment to take in David sitting on the floor of his new apartment with a bottle in front of him. 

“What is this?”

David shrugs. “Figured I could help you relive a high school fantasy by kissing a pretty boy during spin the bottle. Since you couldn’t last time.”

“Shouldn’t there be at least one more player? I think I need a few more options for this game to work,” Patrick teases. 

“I can call Ted over.”

Patrick takes the bottle and spins it. Before it finishes, he leans down and kisses David. “No, there’s no need.”

[samsexualdeancurious]

Baby (NSFW)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Written for a Demon Patron's request

---

Dean’s body is warm and solid, fitting perfectly between your thighs. The weight of him pressing down on you, the heat of his cock spearing you open, it’s all so perfect. So mind-blowingly perfect. You really can’t be blamed for what comes out of your mouth.

Dean freezes when the words leave your lips, staring at you with wide green eyes. “... what?”

Your cheeks flush hot. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have - forget I said anything.”

Dean shakes his head and cups your cheek in one hand to keep you from turning away. “No, hey, look at me.”

“Dean-”

“You want me to breed you?”

Your face is literally on fire right now. There’s probably smoke. “... yes.”

“Is this a kink? Or a genuine desire?”

Very slowly, you whisper, “Both.”

Dean groans, low in his throat and leans down to kiss you hard enough to bruise. “Fuck, babe. Yeah. I can do that. I can definitely do that. We’re gonna talk about it later but for now…” He shifts up on his elbows and rolls his hips, driving in balls deep. You gasp in response and clutch at his shoulders. “Yeah. Gonna fill you up, sweetheart. Gonna give you a baby.”