#this is not a drabble oops it's 800+ words.

[hb-writes]

Clara and Tommy Shelby, “Are you okay?” “Why do you ask?” “You’re wearing two different shoes.” If that’s okay?

Tommy retrieved his pocket watch from his waistcoat, not so idly wondering when his sister would make his appearance and whether or not he’d need to make a second journey up the stairs to hurry her along. Frances had prompted her thrice before Tommy stood at the threshold, offering the type of incentivization Frances couldn’t or wouldn’t…a bit of a threat. 

Her brother’s words had gotten her out of the covers, at least, but with only a minute left before the deadline he’d given her, Tommy wondered if the threat of her missing out on tea and breakfast if she didn’t get herself downstairs hadn’t been enough. 

The breakfast table had been set for three—for him and Charlie and Clara, but Clara’s had remained untouched as Tommy and Charlie finished their meals long ago, long enough that Charlie had already been settled in the kitchen with his favorite maids, doing whatever it was the boy did all day while he and Clara were out.

Tommy replaced the pocket watch and readied himself to issue another threat when Clara appeared at the threshold, not even a glance spared to him as she headed straight for her spot at the table. Standing beside the chair, Clara poured herself a cup of tea. She reached out for a triangle of toast as she stirred the liquid, finishing it in a few quick bites.

“Are you ready? Where’s your coat?” she asked as she sipped the tea. 

Tommy’s jacket was still draped over a chair and his overcoat was with his briefcase in the closet by the front door, but Clara already donned her coat pulled over her haphazardly chosen outfit. Tommy looked her up and down as she took a break from her tea, reaching for a strawberry. 

“We’re going to be late,” she added before she downed her tea, the cup and saucer clattering as she set them both back on the table. “You were rushing me about…practically shouting for the whole countryside to hear and you’re not even ready.” 

Tommy might’ve corrected her—he hadn’t done anything close to shouting—but he was too distracted. He wasn’t any longer used to seeing his sister as she was now, her hair left down and her face fresh and free of the products she’d been experimenting with in recent years—powders and rouge and lipstick. Maybe in the mornings before she got ready for the day, he’d catch a glimpse of the girl before him now, but she didn’t walk about the house like that anymore. And she certainly didn’t go to school that way, much too concerned about appearances. 

While Tommy was comforted by it, the return to some sort of familiarity that was no longer his sister’s normal, the absence of her usual effort only served to highlight the exhaustion sowed in Clara’s face and the wan complexion that Tommy couldn’t help but wonder after.

“Are you alright?”

Clara nodded as she reached for another strawberry. “Of course. Why do you ask?”

“Besides the fact that it took an army and the threat of violence to get you out of bed…you’re wearing two different shoes.” 

Clara stopped chewing, swallowing quickly as she glanced down to her feet, down to the shoes that were indeed belonging to two separate pairs. 

“Oops,” she said, a red blush creeping into her cheeks. “I suppose I’d better go and—”

“Take this with you,” Tommy interrupted as she took a step away. Clara glanced down at the book Tommy held out between them, a bit of psychology by Freud that he’d just finished reading. Tommy hadn’t outright told her she couldn’t read it, but he hadn’t been open to discussing the book’s contents with her, dismissing most of her questions on the topic.

“Might as well keep it in your room if you’re only going to sneak down to my office in the middle of the night to read it.”

Clara took the book from his hand, suddenly reminded of similar discussions over the years, reminded of all the time on Watery Lane when she’d been scolded for going through her brother’s personal collection. “How did you—?”

“You left it out on the coffee table,” Tommy offered, though he wouldn’t have needed that as a clue. He knew his sister’s patterns well-enough by now, knew by the interest she’d shown while he was reading it that she’d have a go at it herself once he was through. 

“Right.” Clara nodded, holding the book to her chest. “Well, I’d better go change,” she said, readying herself once again to step away. 

“Clara?”

She turned back to her brother, eyebrows raised in question. 

“I don’t want you losing any more sleep over that book, alright?” 

Clara nodded before she walked away, leaving Tommy to think about all the sleep he’d lost as he sifted through the tome, both from his interest in reading and absorbing the content and from the anguish of his mind trying to sort through what it all meant, anguish he hoped his sister couldn’t relate to. 

Send me a drabble-ish prompt.

[gloomwitchwrites]

I loved the recent "calling your husband boyfriend on purpose" imagine....what about...

Calling your boyfriend husband on ACCIDENT? 😍🤭

By the time that I'm actually getting around to this, "calling your husband boyfriend on purpose" is now no longer recent. Oops! Sorry! (If you want to read that imagine you can find it here.) But is it really an accident? I feel like it could honestly be both, but the accident factor would make the whole thing so much cuter!

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): fluff, brief alcohol, suggestive themes, established relationship

Word Count: 800

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“Can you help me, John?”

“Yeah, love. Give me a minute.”

The counter top is covered in groceries. It’s the first big day in the new apartment with John. The two of you have been dating for a few years now, but this is the first time you’ve properly lived together.

John comes around the corner in nothing but a pair of shorts. He’s a bit sweaty from building furniture.

“There’s ice cream. Don’t want it to melt.”

“Course.” He gives you a quick kiss before digging through the bags, removing items as he goes.

The two of you work seamlessly, putting away all the groceries quickly.

“Give me a kiss.”

John grins, and goes in for a tooth-achingly sweet one.

“Thanks, hubby.”

The word is out without thought. You don’t even realize you’ve said it until John blinks, a bit startled.

“Hubby?”

You don’t know what to say. You’re staring at him, a bit flustered.

But John smiles. He leans in, stealing another kiss. “You want to marry me?”

“Do you want to marry me?” you counter.

“You proposing?” teases John.

“Stop answering my question with a question.”

John chuckles and pulls you close. “Wifey sounds good on you.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“The husband will love this!”

Husband slips out naturally, as if you and Kyle have always been together. The two of you have been dating for years, but there is no marriage. There isn’t even an engagement. But Kyle isn’t around to hear the slip up—at least, you don’t think so.

The store assistant smiles. “Happy to help,” she says brightly before walking away.

You exhale slowly, and turn around, nearly smacking into Kyle.

“Holy shit,” you say, placing your hand on your chest. “You startled me.”

Kyle has a smirk on his face with arms crossed over his chest. “Did I hear you correctly?”

“That I swore?” you ask, perplexed.

“No,” he laughs. “You called me your husband.”

Oh shit.

“You heard that?”

Kyle leans in as if he’s about to tell you a secret. “I did.”

“And?” you prompt, trying to brush this off as nothing.

Kyle shrugs. “Think I like it.”

You blink. “You like it.”

Kyle glances around but there isn’t anyone nearby. He takes a step into your space, lowering his head as if to kiss you. “Say it again.”

You lick your lips. “Husband.”

“Again.”

“Husband.”

Kyle closes the distance, stealing a kiss.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Across the pub, your boyfriend is ordering drinks at the bar.

The two of you are enjoying a free weekend. They are few since Simon is always working—always off on some mission.

What isn’t all that nice is the woman talking to Simon at the bar. He’s politely ignoring her, but she clearly cannot take a hint. She’s smiling at Simon like she wants to climb him. Plus, you’re feeling bold. You have a few drinks in you at this point. The liquor is hot. It is poison.

And you’re ready to strike. Show some fangs.

You stride toward the bar, shoving yourself between the woman and Simon. Wrapping your arms around Simon’s waist, you snuggle up to him.

“Hello, husband,” you croon.

Simon’s mouth quirks with amusement as the woman behind you snorts and makes a flippant remark.

Going up on your toes, you reach for a kiss, and Simon obliges. It is slow. Wet. Way too intimate for such a public setting. You kiss him like you’re starved.

When the two of you part, the woman is gone.

Simon’s hand dives, grabbing your ass in a possessive hold. “Husband?”

“It slipped.”

“Sure it did, love,” laughs Simon.

John "Soap" MacTavish

“This is John. My husband.”

Husband.

The word slips out and you’re not able to draw it back. You can’t correct yourself. Not in front of your peers. You’ve fumbled this completely.

Johnny’s eyebrows rise toward his hairline, his gaze pointed as he glances at you. But he doesn’t correct you either, and you decide to roll with it.

“That’s lovely,” replies your boss. “How long have you two been married?”

This is a new job. It’s the first company party you’re attending, and bringing a plus one is encouraged.

But you’re not able to answer. Johnny steps up and takes the lead.

“Newly,” he says, grinning like it’s true.

Your boss laughs. “That accent! My goodness. Scottish?”

“Aye. Born and bred.”

“How lovely.”

Johnny inclines his head. His hand delicately grabs your arm, pulling you in. “Pleasure meeting you.”

The two of you move on, but Johnny takes a turn, drawing you to the side, his head lowered.

“Husband?” he asks with a cheeky grin.

“It slipped out,” you mutter.

“Your coworkers are gonna think you’re a married woman.”

“I know.”

“Should make it official,” shrugs Johnny.

“What?”

He lightly bumps your shoulder with his own. “You heard me.”

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@sapphichotmess @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky

@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@pearljamislife @ash-tarte @eternallyvenus @gingergirl06 @arrozyfrijoles23

[fayes-fics]

Kinktober Drabble #5: Frottage/Thigh-Riding

Kinktober Masterlist

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors dni, thigh riding, frottage, handjob through clothing, female and male orgasms.

Authors Note: Unbetaed. Sorry for the delay in restarting Kinktober. My updates may still be erratic for the next week or so, but I wanted to start posting again. Thanks for your support during a difficult time. Is over 800 words still a Drabble? Ah well oops. Enjoy! <3

You are straddling one Benedict Bridgerton. It’s late at night on the grounds of Aubrey Hall. The bright moonlight reflects on the lake to your right, finally able to sneak away for some privacy mid-ball after he wordlessly grabbed your hand and walked you out here. 

He smirks as his hands wrap around your hips, encouraging your movements. Your dress is bunched around your sides as you rub your thin cotton underwear against his slightly rough, woollen trousers, your legs on either side of his right thigh. The meat of his muscle is a fantastic solid mass to drag against.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” His voice is soft and low.

“Yes,” your eyes closed, grabbing his waistcoat as leverage.

“Don’t stop,” he encourages.

“What about you?” You ask breathlessly, realising he may be getting very little out of this. Even in the minimal light, you can see a change in shape in his trousers.

“I’m okay,” he assures, but his voice sounds needy and wanting.

As you grind down on him, clit smudging against his quad muscle, you trail a hand from his waistcoat to his trousers, and the noise he makes as you brush over the bulge makes your whole body shudder.

Emboldened, you push the flat of your palm against it, up then down. 

“Oh fuck,” he pants, and the tone of his voice is like a depth charge of lust. 

Suddenly your motions are frantic, groaning as you gyrate on his leg and surge your hand against his cock, insistent against the stretched fabric of his trousers.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” his hypnotised pleading is precisely what you want to hear.

“Benedict is this what, oh god, is this what it feels like?” Your question is breathy and wonder-filled, closing your eyes.

“It's even better. If you like this,” he swallows hard, “just wait until I’m inside you.” 

You are moving so fast now, unable to stop climbing towards something intangible and heady.

“When will that be?” You gasp.

“When we are married,” he breezes.

Your eyes fly open, and you look down at him. Your hand is almost a vice-like tunnel over his clothed cock.

“Is that a proposal?” You gasp, not stilling your movement.

“Do you want it to be?” He hedges between heavy breaths.

“I… I…” you can’t complete your answer as you lose the power of speech, moaning hard, your hand grasping and flexing against his cock as your core burns so hot, throbbing. 

“Yes, yes,” you chant, as suddenly he tenses his thigh, becoming a solid wonderful hard mass of sinew and muscle that feels like heaven against your engorged clit. 

“Is that your answer?” He gusts, panting with a tinge of amusement, but you don’t answer. You can’t.

It’s just white hot friction and moaning as you fracture and shudder on him, feeling yourself leaking out into your underwear and your cunt fluttering as your clit pulses. Your lips tingle, your toes curl, and all you can hear is blood rushing in your head.

“Oh fuck, I can feel that,” he groans and places his hand over yours on his cock, pressing down and making the movements for you as your concentration slackens, cresting your orgasm.

His muscle relaxes under your clit as he releases the tension he held there for you.

He moans, and suddenly you are snapped back to the situation. Your hand grips around his cock, squeezing hard, more determined than ever to make him come the way you had, to feel blinding heart-stopping pleasure.

“Don’t stop,” he growls, and it causes a surge of want in your body. You crave to rip all the layers of clothing off both of you and sink onto his cock. It makes your breath hitch, and your hand speed up.

Suddenly his whole body goes rigid again, and he makes stuttering noises followed by a loud groan; then you feel him pulsing underneath your hand, rippling from the base to the tip. A bloom of warm wetness seeps through the material sticky against your fingers.

“Fuckkkkkkk,” he exhales and crashes flat on his back, his hand covering his face as he takes deep breaths. You slow your movements and gently hold him, the warmth still there as the steeliness recedes.

“You know,” he says almost idly, tucking the hand that was on his face behind his head like a pillow, “you never did answer my question.” 

“And you can’t answer a question with another question, Mr Bridgerton,” you shoot back, knowing your eyes are sparkling with mirth and sated desire. Curious, you bring your sticky fingers to your mouth and suck them as he watches, and a hand grips your thigh. It’s not a great taste but not bad either, just okay. 

“Oh god, please marry me,” he pleads, the words slipping out almost unbidden as he watches you clean traces of his cum off your fingers with your tongue.

“Well, as you asked so nicely…….” you tease with a wink, then lean over and whisper into his ear, “Hell yes, Benedict, I’ll marry you.”

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @wysteria-clad @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat

[dameronscopilot]

Heater goes out in the middle of a cold night. Wouldn't mind cuddle with benny, and santi. Sigh...

(I swear this was supposed to just be a paragraph of mindless thoughts, and it turned into a drabble somehow oops)

intertwined

Benjamin “Benny” Miller x reader x Santiago "Pope" Garcia

Word Count: 800+

Content: and! they! were! roommates!, roommates to lovers speed run, cuddling kissing for warmth

“Goddamnit.”

You rouse from a light sleep at the sound of Benny’s voice out in the hallway, slowly sitting up and blinking as your eyes adjust. A shudder runs down your spine when your comforter falls down off of your shoulders—it’s freezing. 

Groaning, you slip out of bed, scooping up a small pile of material on the floor that vaguely resembles a sweatshirt before padding across the room to peek out the door. Your roommates, Benny and Santiago, are both standing in front of the thermostat, arms crossed and faces equally fraught with annoyance.

“Did the heater stop working again?” you casually ask, leaning against the door frame.

Santi glances over at you, all pillow-soft curls and tired eyes, and furrows his brows. “Is that my sweatshirt?”

Glancing down at it, you realize that yes, indeed it is. “Maybe,” you reply with a grin, walking over to them.

Benny seemingly gives up on his battle with the device on the wall, and he curses under his breath, running a hand through his tousled blonde hair. “Yeah, it’s busted, but I think the problem’s with the furnace itself this time, not the thermostat. Landlord’s asleep, so we’re fucked until the morning, I guess.”

Far too cold and too damn tired to care about how bold your suggestion may sound, you step between the two of them, looping an arm in each of theirs. “Let’s go then.”

“It’s three in the morning. Where are we going, honey?” Benny asks, a note of amused sarcasm in his voice.

“My bed, obviously.”

Santi chokes, “What?”

“We’re cuddling for warmth. Unless you both want to freeze to death alone in your beds,” you respond primly.

“Wasn’t how I thought you’d ask me to get into bed with you, but I’ll take it,” Benny laughs, the honeyed tone of his deep voice doing far more to you than you should allow it to.

“Wait.” 

You both glance at Santiago, and he continues, “Ben’s bed is the biggest out of all of ours. We’ll probably…fit better.”

Raising an eyebrow, you glance between the two of them. “Interesting that you know how big his bed is.”

Benny glances up at the ceiling, biting his lip. “Is it?”

Santiago coughs, shooting Benny a look. “Alright Sherlock Holmes, you can play detective later. Let’s get a move on, I’m losing feeling in my toes.”

You’ll mull over that later.

For now, all you can think about is the way it feels to find yourself snugly trapped between Santiago and Benny’s combined body heat, burrowed under the silky soft sheets in the latter’s bed.

The way something finally loosens in your chest, tugging free in a rockslide of emotions.

You’ve spent months dancing around it, this inevitability that’s tentatively hovered in the air between the three of you since you moved in. This quiet, unspoken thing that feels so much easier to look at head on now in this very moment, shrouded in the inky black darkness of Benny’s bedroom. 

Benny knows what you want—he can feel it in the way your heart’s wildly beating its way out of your chest as he presses his thumb against your collarbone. Santi knows, too.

And yet, even as Benny's nose brushes against yours, breath fanning across your lips and his hair tickling your forehead, he waits.

He waits until you’re ready, until the feather-light caress of Santiago’s fingers over your hip as he curls against you from behind leaves you shivering with anticipation. Until the barest touch of Benny’s ankle hooking over yours elicits a hitch in your breath.

Until you can't fucking stand it any longer.

But when you do eventually lean forward, finally seeking out the real warmth you desire, Benny stops holding back.

And so does Santiago.

Benny kisses you hard, like he's been waiting for this for days. Weeks. Months. Like he's already memorized the curve of your lips long before being given this chance to finally taste them.

Meanwhile, Santiago's mouth blazes a hot, exploratory trail from behind, calloused fingers tugging at the collar of your—his—sweatshirt, his teeth and tongue lavishing the delicate curve of your neck.

Benny’s lips make start to make their way across your jaw, trailing down the front of your throat, only to be replaced with Santiago’s. He pulls you down onto your back, tongue swiping across your bottom lip before licking his way into your mouth.

You arch your back at the feeling of Benny and Santiago's fingers intertwining against your hipbone, their mouths straying, and you tug both of their faces back toward yours for heated kiss that quickly begins to skirt the edges of desperation. Curiosity still burning in your gut, you run a hand through Benny's hair, tugging on it firmly to pull his lips from yours.

You glance from him to Santiago, whose teeth have begun to graze the sensitive spot just below your earlobe, and Benny grins. He leans over you, cupping the side of Santi's face before capturing his lips in an eager, messy kiss, and the heat in your gut blazes white-hot.

On second thought, the furnace can stay broken.

[wannab-urs]

Javier Peña Masterlist

Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

in the a.m. - smut, angst | AO3

Type: series Status: in progress Summary: Between sleeping with informants and getting in bed with Los Pepes in the fight to bring down Escobar, Javier Peña also finds time to be with you. Wrestling with crippling self hatred, Javi tries and fails to keep his blood stained hands off of you. Based on some of my favorite Arctic Monkeys songs Tags: smoking, probably shit spanish, smut, angst, established situationship, emotionally unavailable!Javi, references to past arguments/past hookups because this has been an ongoing thing and I love to start in the middle of a story, loose fit series, trauma, probably, sad!Javi, self hating!Javi, Javi very briefly picks you up, Javi crying, Javi yelling, reader yelling, did I mention angst?

Perfecta, mi amor - smut | AO3

Type: one shot, request Word Count: 800 Summary: soft!dom Javi talks you through a facefucking blowjob. Tags: Soft dom!Javi P, sub!reader, Javi P talks you through it, blow job, deep throating, face fucking, excessive praise kink (obviously), reader is referred to in Spanish with feminine phrases so she's a lady this time. Reader has hair that Javi can interact with?

This Night Has Opened My Eyes - smut | AO3

Type: one shot Word Count: 900 Summary: You’ll do anything to avoid getting arrested (smut) Tags: Dubcon with a twist, reader is so very very into it, derogatory language (putita, little whore), bondage (handcuffs), rough sex (no prep). 

Something Sweet - fluff, smut | AO3

Type: one shot Word count: 2.1k Summary: You’re new to the team in Colombia and all alone on your birthday. Your partner, Javier Peña, decides to do something sweet for you. Tags: Set vaguely during season 1 before Javi gets extra angsty, canon compliant-ish, reader feeling lonely, sassy!reader, flirty!javi, alcohol (wine), brief mention of a gun bc I feel like a DEA agent wouldn’t just answer the door all willy nilly, kissing, javi asking for consent, but y’all did share a bottle of wine, kissing, fingering f receiving, marking, unprotected PinV, cuddling. I always write angsty Javi, but this is FLUFF, so sorry if it’s OOC, I’m slightly out of my element here.

Under Your Skin - smut | AO3

Type: one shot, pedrostories secret santa 23 Word Count: 3.5k Summary: You’ve worked on Chucho’s ranch since you were 15 years old, grew up with Javi, loved Javi… He comes back after nearly 20 years to find you hooking up with a certain former secret agent. He’s jealous, for sure, but of who? Tags: MMF, post season 3 of Narcos, AU where Jack gets kicked out of the Statesmen instead of burgered, Javi being bi and repressed, Jack being a bisexual slut, SMUT, MMF dynamics, oral (f receiving), javi being a dick, oral (m receiving), javi tries to hit jack, gay kissing (!!!), making out, face sitting, reader kinda gets used and likes it, nipple play, throat fucking, Eiffel tower moment, brief f masturbation, brief m masturbation, pet names (sugar, cowboy, baby, hermosa), truly unreasonable amounts of cursing i’m sorry i talk like this, and also unreasonable amounts of southern phrasing, again sorry I talk like this, unprotected PIV, creampie, cum eating, teasing Javi, actually 90% porn with like a little backstory, kind of enemies to lovers, they’re all ranch hands technically, also they’re all romantically into each other but also javi is dumb and jack can’t believe anyone would want him for more than sex haha oops :)

Bittersweet - smut, angst | AO3

Type: one shot Word count: 1.1k Summary: You're perfect to him, but he's not good enough for you and never could be. Tags: kind of derogatory mention of “whores,” SMUT, javier peña’s oral fixation, I’m imagining season 3 Javi but it’s up to you, reader is 20ish, wears a skirt, is referred to as sweet, and is able bodied. Soft and then mean!javi.

Savior Complex - angst, smut-ish | AO3

Type: drabble Word count: 570 Summary: Javi wants to take care of you, but you won’t let him Tags: angst, brief not quite smut, horny thoughts, food mention, toxic relationship, reader is wearing a skirt but is otherwise undescribed, javi grabs you in a nonsexual way, arguing.

[roamwithahungryheart]

500 Word Drabble Challenge

Hi guys! I’m back on the writing contest circuit for the first time in a long time. This challenge also marks the first time I’ve written anything remotely smutty in six years. With that in mind, go easy on me folks. I’m a little rusty!

Thank you @happygowriting​ for hosting this challenge! x

Pairing: Andy Barber x reader

Prompt:  “Why am I always so horny when there are people around?”

Word count: 795

Warnings: 18+, sexual content, brief use of language, legal case referring to an endangered child

Monday morning. Middlesex County Courthouse.

There are murmurs in the lobby as you make your way inside. You scroll through your phone, taking one last look through the emails you’ve been sent about the case. It’s a tough start to the week.

This is the second time you’re serving as ADA to Joanna Klein, the top DA in the area. When she approaches – crisp white shirt, thick-rimmed glasses, grey hair pushed back harshly behind her ears – your hands instinctively ball up. When you first met, she told you she saw a piece of herself in you.

Flattering, but intimidating. She could shake the jury to the core with a single word. You don’t want to let her down.

“We’ve all had a difficult case to take on. You’ll be fine. I know what you’re capable of.” Joanna puts a hand on your shoulder, giving it a maternal squeeze.

“Thanks, Joanna.” You exhale slowly, put your phone in your handbag and readjust the binder wedged under your arm. “Did you hear back from the AFC yet?”

Joanna shakes her head. “No. He’s late.” She glances at her watch. “We need to check in with the CASA this afternoon. If they’re going to successfully take this to trial and win the guardianship then they need to try harder.”

Joanna’s eyes shift to the right. The familiar, mouth-watering scent of his vetiver-spiced skin makes you fight the urge to audibly hitch your breath. It’s him.

Andy.

“Sorry I’m late. Just got off the phone. Keisha’s still in temporary accommodation at Children’s Cottage. I spoke with Laurie and she’s provided a statement.”

Andy turns, a glint in his eye as he pretends it’s the first time you’ve met. His hair is longer now, or maybe it’s just the lack of product weighing it down. There are flecks of grey in his beard. His lips quirk up, smooth and full, and you remember their softness in a heady flash.

“Andy Barber, ADA. I’m the acting AFC for Keisha Taylor.” He proffers a hand, mischievously raising an eyebrow. “Want me to fill you in?”

You’re stammering a little. “S-sure. Go ahead.” You clear your throat.

Joanna gives you a knowing sideways glance. You twist your lips, trying your best to hide a smirk as your cheeks begin to burn. There’s a meeting room a few steps away.

The shrill beep of a phone silences the noise in your brain.

“I have to take this. Meet me back here in twenty minutes.” Joanna picks up her briefcase and hurries down the hall.

Andy’s warm hand grazes the small of your back as he opens the door. He immediately removes his suit jacket. His shirt strains against his muscles. Your eyes follow the tuck lines down to his belt. You unclip the links of your binder, fingers wrapping around the cool metal. You remember the night at the bar, the tang of beer in his kisses, how easily he brought you close….so close. You’re clutching the binder now. Andy’s eyes catch yours and you teasingly rub your fingers up and down the clasp.

Thick, electric silence fills the room.

“It’s been a minute.” Your voice is soft, low, disembodied. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Yeah.” A beat. “Wanna go for round two?” Andy’s arm drapes across your chair, his long fingers tracing circles on your shoulder.

“I’m not into repeats, sorry.” You shoot him a smirk.

“Who said anything about repeats? I didn’t get to do everything I wanted to do to you that night…”

You cross your legs as you feel that tell-tale twitch of desire. “Andy, we need to concentrate….”

“Am I distracting you?” His hand moves downwards with a tantalizing drag of his fingers across your bare arm. Your skin tingles, the simplicity, the softness of his touch sending shivers through every muscle and nerve.

You take a deep, shaky breath, your eyes flitting down to the documents in front of you. Then back to Andy. The broadness of him. Those strong hands...he’s mapped every curve and peak of your body, explored it, owned it…

“Fuck it.” You slam the binder closed and push it across the table.

Andy grins.

Your heart thumps wildly, the room beginning to blur. “Just…give me a minute.”

“God, you’re a tease.” He laughs, the sultry baritone reverberating through you, setting you alight.

You exit the room and rush to the bathroom, pacing up and down, hands fanning nervously as though you’re trying to cool the pure heat of your lust. Propping yourself up against the sink, you meet your reflection with a huff.

“Why am I always so horny when there are people around?” Your jaw tightens. “Fuck you, Barber. Fuck me.”

Joanna emerges from a stall.

“I knew it.” She chuckles.

“Fuck.”

Permanent taglist: @hiddelstannerbarnes​  @redlipstickandblacktea​ @just-one-ordinary-fangirl​ @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho​ @djeniiscorner​ @its-tortle​ @k347​ @ixalit​ @iguessweallcrazyithinktho​ @cevansfics​ @capchrisevaans​ @hawkeyeandthewintersoldier​ @musette22​ @mcubabydotcom​ @worksby-d​ @chuckbass-love​ @bluemusickid​ @fallinforevans​ @hellobeautworld​ @katiew1973​ @just-dreaming-marvel​ @disaster-dean​ @rebthom89​ @navybrat817​​ @just-dreaming-marvel-2​​

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[fairydustedtheory]

For your sterek prompts: If I had a dollar for everytime this happened, I would have two dollars. Which isnt a lot but it's weird it happened twice. (Pretty please with a cherry on top?)

“Can someone please shut that kid up for good?” The leader shouted to her witches friends behind her.

“Male circumcision... That’s some disturbing shit.” One of them said, disgusted as she slowly stepped forward.

Stiles was still talking. Derek glowering and rolling his eyes, tied up next to him.

“You know, if I had a dollar for every time this happened, I would have two dollars. Which isn't a lot but it's weird it happened twice. Not the being tied up thing, obviously. I’m being tied up on the regular. Too much for any human in existence. I get kidnapped, I get tortured, I get all sort of things, the only tying up I actually like is the one happening in the bedroom. I mean, that’s how you deal with trauma, you turn it around and make super hot and heavy and... Sure, I also go to therapy but that’s less enjoyable than super hot sex. Anyway my point is, my two dollars aren’t coming from being tied up because as my bro Derek here can confirm, there’s a lot of that going on with us -”

“Stiles, shut up.” Derek didn’t even have it in himself to growl or sound mad, he even sounded slightly amused.

The witch tilted her head. Stiles smirked.

“My two dollars are coming from someone telling my obsession with male circumcision is disturbing shit. I don’t see why. It’s important to know your species rituals. I mean, the more you know, right?"

The rope was laced with wolfsbane and Derek's skin was slowly but surely burning. Derek's breathing, though he was trying to keep himself under control, was slowly becoming more ragged. Stiles wouldn't have that. He was the emissary of the Hale pack for something and his ability to talk the ears off their enemies was not the only reason.

He also had this undeniable determination to keep them all safe whatever the cost.

Sweat teasing down his hairline, Stiles kept talking, talking and keeping the witches' attention away from his hands, still tied behind his back, but sneakily scratching at the thin black line of the pentagram drawn on the ground. Just a little bit more and the whole ritual would miserably fail. Just a little bit more and then Stiles would move to step two of his plan. Stiles couldn't wait for step two.

Step two included his secret knife. He loved his knife. It was the magic one, the one coated in mountain ash, the one with the sigils carved into the side of the blade. It would work great on witches. Stiles couldn't wait.

His heart was steadily thumping in his chest, one last scratch and the painted black line finally flaked off, with it the heavy feeling of magic and imprisonment was lifted off. In a swift motion, Stiles found his tiny blade hidden under his belt, cut the rope still burning Derek's wrists.

It all went very quickly after that. Derek jumped up, took one, two, three witches down before Stiles was even out of his restraints. Damn, werewolf speed sometimes.

Stiles was barely getting up, Derek's hand found his and pulled him to the exit. They ran like their lives depended on it, even if no one was left to chase them.

Derek actually huffed out a laugh when they were finally at enough of a distance from the building and into the woods away from the road to feel a semblance of safety.

"You're thinking about the being tied up in bed thing, aren't you?" Stiles couldn't stop himself from smiling, bright eyes, cheeks blushing just a little bit. “I knew you would like that. I’m quite proud of myself, it was a good distraction for all the parties involved. I could have gone on for much longer on the subject, you know, if these witches hadn’t been fresh out of the coven and entirely useless in their endeavor.”

“We’ve never done that, but... your heart was steady.” Derek mused.

"What can I say, I wasn’t lying, it’s just that I do have a very vivid imagination. Some truths are just my own."

"Clearly." Derek deadpanned.

"Only when it comes to you, though. And being tied up isn’t the only thing that wouldn’t be a lie if I was to say it out loud. There are many... as you can imagine."

"Right." Derek took a step closer.

"I mean, I would be up for making any of it a common truth and not just a private truth. If you are up for any of it... casually, in the name of dealing with trauma, nothing more than that." Stiles looked Derek straight in the eyes, dead serious, though that very last part was clearly a lie. 

"Nothing more than that." Derek echoed, a breath away from Stiles' mouth. "Of course."

[purrincess-chat]

Me: sets out to write a cute lil Adrinette drabble

Also me: spends the first 800 words writing hurt/comfort Alyanette

Oops. 😅😅

[theroomofreq]

THEROOMOFREQ'S MASTERLIST

AO3 ACCOUNT

SUNDAY BREAKFAST

James/Lily, minor Harry/Ginny // T 400 words // Parents who embarrass their children are cool, right? - Asking for some friends.

THERE'S NO BETTER VERSION

James/Lily // T 900 words // For clarewithnoi's november prompt challenge "I think you're severely underestimating how long I've waited for this." & chasing pavements by adele

PERSONALITY BEFORE PUNCTUALITY

James/Lily // T 10k // Muggle AU, In which Lily is always late and James looks tougher than he is. Baker!Lily & Musician!James

IF LOVE RETURNS

James/Lily // T 700 words // Bitter-sweet drabble collection. Lily and James letters to one another throughout the war.

THROWING CHANCES

James/Lily // T 4k // Coffee Shop AU, written for august jilychallenge, “I’ve spent the summer climbing through your bedroom window so no one sees, please won’t you give me a chance?”

ALL AROUND YOU

Harry/Ginny // T 4k // “Your sister is a professional football player?”

Ron stops and turns around to face Harry. “Yeah? I thought I told you?”

“No. Ginny? Ginny plays professional football?”

BEMUSED FRIENDSHIP *(WIP)*

James/Lily // T 2k* // Lily Evans wanted the person next to her to know she was hell-bent on living up to a challenge.What challenge, you ask?A challenge presented to her by two incredibly frustrating Gryffindors, two Gryffindors who didn’t realize the precarious situation of going against Lily Evans and her intensely stubborn personality. *unpublished to ao3*

CHANGE OF PACE

Harry/Ginny // G 500 words // Missing OTP moment, written for clarensjoy's hinny ficfest

HER

James/Lily // T 5k // Shirtless JP may, but FEM. But what do you say to a dorm mate turned friend who you might be a little bit gay for? Fem!Jily

ALL I THINK ABOUT IS YOU

James/Lily // T 2k // James and Lily are both aware of their changing relationship but oblivious to each other's feelings. AKA, they are pining fools, your honor.

SIMPLE THINGS YOU DO

Harry/Ginny // G 400 words // Harry and Ginny let the noise fade out post-war.

ADORING FANS

James/Lily // G 900 words // Tumblr prompt: I'm sorry to bother you but my son thinks you're famous and he wants your autograph.

WHOSE PARTY IS THIS, BY THE WAY?

James/Lily // G 3k // Jamie has one more year of attending these fancy balls and then she will be free. While she isn't exactly royalty, she can't really escape suffering through these events year after year. Her only hope is someday she might meet someone else who doesn't care much for nicely dressed men either. Fem!Jily

NOT IN THAT WAY

Lily & Remus // G 1k // “We are both in love with a friend-” Lily’s voice came out quieter than she had intended. Despite the softness in her words, Remus flinched. Fem!Jily

DRAWN CLOSER TO YOU

Ron/Hermione // G 400 words // The crack of overburdened branches in a near-silent forest, a missing Deathly Hallows moment.

SNOWY COMPETITION

Harry/Ginny // 300 words // Winter prompt: Being unable to go anywhere because you were snowed in.

MILDLY UNCOMFORTABLE

Harry/Ginny // T 700 words // Harry and Ginny get happily drunk from spiked eggnog.

WE LOST TRACK OF TIME

Harry/Ginny // G 800 words // We accidentally got married in Vegas, Oops. Male!Ginny Female!Harry

2 AM

James/Lily // T 2k // Becoming close friends with Jamie Potter had never exactly been on Lily’s to-do list, but seeing the way Jamie laughed reminded Lily that it was one of her favorite accomplishments. Fem!Jily

ARE WE ON A DATE RIGHT NOW?

Harry/Ginny // G 6k // Harry is abandoned at the Three Broomsticks and gets some unwanted attention, shenanigans ensue as Harry tries to escape.

NOT TOO SUBTLE

Harry/Ginny // G 600 words // A missing HBP moment ficlet. Harry is rather obvious about his feelings toward Ginny, but it’s Luna who helps her realize how he feels.

[jujubean90]

PREGAME EVENT!

MINORS DNI!!! Please note! I will be accepting request for this portion of Hybrid Fest starting NOW until Sunday, May 8th.

It's taking a bit to finish out all the art I'm planning to release for this event. I'm working on 8 pieces in total while writing a new hybrid story for after Dangerous Game ends. You guys are going to love it! HOWEVER: I start a new job next week (yay!) So, it's going to take longer than expected (not yay). In the meantime, I have the next few days free so I thought, why not toss folks some crumbs? Check it out...

For this event, it's simple, I'm going to give you a 500-800 word max drabble (Because me and longer writing events don't work out. OOPS!) Sounds good, right? It'll be a nice little something, something.

Send me an Ask with the following information!

1. Your character from the list below (Limit 1):

Bertholdt Hoover

Floch Forester

Marco Bodt

Eren Yeager

Reiner Braun

Jean Kirstein

Porco Galliard

Marcel Galliard

Armin Arlert

Colt Grice

BONUS: Yuji Itadori and Ryomen Sukuna from JJK!

Side note: Q:Juju you don't have my favorite on here. Can you please write *insert whoever*? A: No, and please don't take it personally. These are characters I have more emotional investment in. Writing for others won't bring me joy and the content will be half-assed. Just being real.

2. Your hybrid type(Limit 1):

Dragon

Gryphon

Naga/ Laima (Snake people)

Wereboar

Merman

Wulvar (like a werewolf but keeps accents of wolf self in humanoid form like ears, tail, claws etc)

Centaur

Dog Boy (provide the breed of the dog too if you have one in mind)

Kitsune

Yeti

Kraken

Sahuagin (Think kinda like Pixar's Luca!)

3. Add some extra important stuff:

Your preferred pronouns.

The name you wish to be called.

Whether you want NSFW or SFW

A particular scenario you might want to happen (example maybe cuddly fluff stuff or jealousy over contact with another hybrid or person)

Kinks if NSFW

Some other random shit you might to include.

Shoot me a DM if you have questions!

[dreaming-about-fanfictions]

Idiots II Draco Malfoy x Reader

This drabble is part of my 800 Follower Celebration!

Summary: Enemies to Lovers. During the 6th year, you slowly realize with the help of Amortentia how you truly feel for the Slytherin. When you go to tell him, it’s too late.

Requested by a lovely anon: “hi! could i request a draco malfoy x reader enemies to lovers with dialogue prompt #20 - “i love you idiot”. thank you!“

A/N: This was supposed to be 500 words lol. I hope you like it! It’s a little angsty. I’m sorry if it feels a little rushed, it’s supposed to be a short drabble. I had a lot of fun writing it though and I hope you enjoy it! <3

Words: 1.3k Pairings: Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader Warnings: angst

It started in your first year, even before you were sorted into your house. Walking into the Great Hall, you could barely keep your mouth closed as you absorbed the wonders and beauty that suddenly surrounded you. The flying candles, the stars on the ceiling, the laughing students at the four long tables – you knew instantly that this place would become a second home for you.

As you kept marveling at your surroundings, you didn’t notice the group had come to a stop. You made another long step forward and – bumped right into the person in front of you. A small, blonde boy spun around.

“Watch your steps, idiot!”, he spat out and glared at you.

This was the first interaction you ever had with Draco Malfoy – and also the moment, you both began to hate each other. Malfoy liked you almost as much as Potter and when he wasn’t annoying him, he was bothering you. He loved pranking you; insults written on small notes kept flying onto your desk during classes, right after he made fun of your hair or face or whatever else he could think of on that day. You weren’t any better though and kept doing the same things to him. On top of that, the two of you constantly competed in school against each other and when you joined the Quidditch Team, things got even worse.

Your friends always used one word to describe the two of you: annoying.

Things changed in your sixth year. Suddenly, Malfoy seemed distracted and stopped caring about your stupid fights. Even though, you didn’t want to admit it – his behavior bothered you. No, it was the lack of attention that bothered you.

“Why aren’t you happy that he stopped?”, your friend asked you one day. “You hate him, right? So what’s up with the sudden obsession? Are you in love with that idiot or something?”

You laughed at her. What a ridiculous idea! Just the thought made you feel uncomfortable. However, it didn’t leave you and so you started watching him during meals and classes. You noticed the dark circles under his eyes, the way he hardly ate anything at all, how his eyes always seemed to wander around as if his thoughts were elsewhere. Malfoy was always on your mind. Merlin, at some point you even started to dream about him.

Were you worrying about him? No, absolutely not. Never would you worry about that idiot. Because if you did that, it meant you could feel more than just hate for him.

 ***

One day in January, your thoughts trailed off once again during a particularly boring Potions lesson as you watched Malfoy from across the classroom.

“Y/N,” you friend whispered and nudged with your elbow.

“What?”, you asked when you snapped back into reality. She pointed to your teacher.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Slughorn called your name. “Is there a reason why you seem rather distracted today?”

You straightened your back immediately. Oops. “I’m sorry, Professor,” you apologized.

“Hmm,” he made. “Why don’t you come to the front and smell this potion for us. Did you hear Miss Grangers explanations?”

“Uhm, yes, sure,” you stammered and walked over to the cauldron.

Slughorn didn’t believe you. “What do you smell then, Miss Y/L/N?”

Slowly, you leaned forward and sniffed cautiously at the liquid. You frowned. “I can’t smell anything, Professor.”

Slughorn raised an eyebrow. “Please, try again. Be honest with us.”

Again, the same thing happened. As you leaned forward the overwhelming scent of an all too familiar cologne hit you and you wrinkled your nose. “I’m sorry,” you said when you got up, a little more annoyed now. “But I can’t smell anything when Malfoy stands so close. Seriously,” you looked in his direction. “Try using less cologne, it’s disgusting.”

The class was quiet for a few seconds. Malfoys eyes widened and his friends started to grin, while nudging him with their elbows. Then a few girls started to giggle. What was going on?!

“It’s Amortentia, Y/N,” Hermione whispered to you. “It shows your deepest desire.”

Oh.

 ***

To say the rest of the lesson was anything less than a complete humiliation, would have been a lie. Everyone kept grinning at you, making sly remarks, no matter how hard Slughorn tried to get the students to concentrate.

Despite your embarrassment, the words didn’t leave your mind.

It shows your deepest desire.

Malfoy was supposed to be your deepest desire?! No, something must have gone wrong. It simply couldn’t be. Right?

When hours turned into days and days into months, the answer began to seem more and more blurry. Malfoy completely started to ignore you. A part of you was glad, at least he didn’t make fun of the incident. Another part however, slowly began to feel hurt by the way he was so distant all of the sudden. The utter hatred you had felt for years faded more and more and one night when you almost started to cry after he outright refused to work together with you on a Transfiguration project, you finally admitted to yourself: maybe you did feel something for him.

“Tell him,” your friend advised you when you told her in frustration. “It doesn’t matter how he reacts, it’ll end this whole charade and give you reason to move on. Tell him.”

You knew she was right – and so you did.

You left the common room, searching the whole castle for the Slytherin. It was weirdly quiet tonight. After about forty minutes you was on your way to the Astronomy Tower when suddenly you heard some commotion. Did someone scream? No, it was probably just Peeves again. Then you finally found Malfoy. He practically ran around the corner, bumping into you.

“I have to talk to you!”, you exclaimed, reaching for his arm when he wanted to pass you. When you finally got a glimpse of his expression, it made your blood freeze. Pure fear was written all over his face, there were tears on his cheeks.

“You have to leave!”, he hissed and pushed you into a dark corner.

“What no, what happened?”, you asked him anxiously.

“Leave and hide!”, he whispered, turning his head as if he was looking for something – or someone. “You can’t be here.”

“No, Malfoy, I have to –”

“No!”, he interrupted you. For the first time, he looked into your eyes and suddenly his voice softened. “I know. Amortentia.”

You swallowed hard.

“Now, leave, please,” he squeezed your arm. You hadn’t even realized he was still holding onto you. “They will kill you!”

Just the way he said this made you believe him. The temperatures seemed to have dropped a few degrees and a shiver ran down your spine. “Who will?”, you whispered.

He didn’t reply but turned his head when he heard footsteps coming from the Astronomy Tower. Someone was coming. Fast.

“It’s too late, stay hidden,” his voice trembled. “I will lead them into another direction.” With that, he took a step back. “We probably won’t see each other again but that’s not too bad, right? We could never stand each other anyways, right?”

Right?

You felt as if you were choking, yet no tears were starting to run down your cheeks. You were too confused, too scared. What was happening? All you wanted was … “I love you, idiot,” you croaked.

Malfoy began to walk backwards, more tears streaming down his face. His eyes kept glancing to the stairs. Whoever was coming down, had almost reached them. Then, right before he turned around he sent you a small smile filled with fear and desperation. “This can’t happen, Y/L/N.”

A loud laugh caused you to flinch and then a black-haired woman appeared, followed by a few men. With terror, you noticed the Dark Mark on her arm. She screamed something but you were too distraught to understand it.

“This way,” you heard Malfoy say. “It’s a shortcut.”

***

A/N: I hope you like it! I’d love to hear your thoughts on this story! <33 HP Masterlist General Masterlist

Tag List: @writerdee1701​, @zpandaqueen​, @ladylizzieofdarbyshire​, @aspiring-ginger​, @dracomalfoyswifey​, @donttellany1iusetumbler​

If you want to be added to my tag list, let me know <3

[killerbananas]

i officially announce this dragon!levi thirst has become an 800+ word drabble so far oops

in the meantime here is a snippet

@animediplomat ty for fueling the hell out of this 💖

The bursting of fever-tension breaking in the night makes you realize you’d drifted off again, but all the tension that used to be in your muscles is now concentrated with the large, ridged erection pressing into your cheeks. The blanket is caught between, but you barely realize you’re backing up into the protrusion until another growl follows your painful hiss at jarring your ankle wrong. A whisper of a demand tickles your ear, raises your brows in surprise, fear, and arousal that threatens to leak between your bare thighs.

“Mind your manners, little mouse. You are my guest, but you are hurt. Do not tempt me. Your smell is too alluring.”

[kookiemydream]

would you do a Jimin drabble of him trying to convince his crush to dance with him when they visit during practice?

pairing: jimin x reader 

genre: fluff, non-established relationship, friends to lovers (sorta?)

word count: 800+ 

a/n: i’m sorry this took so long! christmas was so hectic with family and stuff but here it is! i hope you like it lovely! also i left it on kind of a cliffhanger hehe oops-

“You don’t have to stay for me Y/N, you can go home if you want.” Jimin sympathetically smiled as the song finished and you applauded him once again. You threw him his water bottle and his towel, to clean the sweat that was already dripping from his body.

“Are you kidding? To get a private show from THE Park Jimin of BTS, people would think I’m mad to pass such an opportunity.” You teased, laughing at the way he rolled his eyes and how his cheeks turned red at the sudden admiration.

Although Jimin had known you for quite some time now, he swore that his feelings for you grew stronger by the minute. It was these exact moments he cherished, and even though he told you that you COULD go home if you wanted to, he didn’t mean that. He would want to keep you by his side forever if he could.

But technically that would be kidnap and Jimin doesn’t roll that way.

“No but for real, I love watching you dance! It’s so...majestic!” you exclaimed, “Besides I’m definitely learning a thing or two while watching so.”

“Oh really?” He smirked, “Why don’t you join me for the next dance then, smartypants.”

Now it was Jimin’s turn to laugh as your expression went from cocky to plain petrified.

“Now? I was kidding-”

“No no no, you’ve done it now! You’re dancing with me whether you like it or not.” He grabbed both your hands and hauled you up from the floor. He let go of one of your hands to turn the music back on before returning to holding them both again, guiding you to the middle of the dance floor. “Okay now, what you wanna do is, move your hips in a sort of figure-eight movement while letting your arms be free but also in control, like this.”

He proceeded to do exactly what he said, making it look so easy. Whereas you on the other hand…

It wasn’t as easy as it looked. Let’s just put it that way.

You tried to copy what he did as best as possible, trying to make the swirl of your hips look clean and smooth. Except it was nothing like his. One glance in the mirror at yourself, and you realised why the hell Jimin had started to laugh

“Jimin this is way too hard! I can’t do it like you!” You pouted as he covered his mouth to hide the giant grin that was plastered across his face.

“Okay okay, calm down,” he said, wiping his eyes and making his way over to the speaker once again. “Maybe that kinda dance is not your forte?

That’s when Jimin got the greatest idea ever.

“Let me put on something slower? Maybe something like ballroom dancing will awaken your inner dance devil!”

“I don’t know Jimin.” You said uncertainly. “I don’t want you to laugh at me like last time.” As Jimin made his way over to the speaker once again, he spoke “I promise, I won’t laugh at you this time. If you want, I could guide you? It’ll be easier to learn!”

You sighed in dread “Fine, let’s get this over and done with.” As the music started up, Jimin jogged the short way back to you. Gently taking your hand in his and the other hand of his wrapping around your waist, he stared at you for your approval. “Ready?” he questioned.

As soon as you nodded, you both began to dance around the room.

As you moved swiftly around the studio, your vision became focused on the way your feet and legs moved. Your confidence slowly decreased as many thoughts rushed into mind. “Am I doing it right? What if I fall? What if I hurt myself?”

“Y/n.” Jimin’s voice suddenly pulled you out of the daydream. “Don’t look at the floor, look at me. Have trust in yourself, you’re doing great.”

Tearing your gaze away from your feet, your eyes met his beautiful brown orbs, staring at you with so much admiration. You both continued to waltz around the studio, neither one of you refusing to break eye contact not because you were scared it would mess you up but because you literally couldn’t.

He was too beautiful.

The way his mouth pursed in concentration, the way his little baby hairs at the front stuck to his forehead with sweat, every little detail that you hadn’t noticed before became prominent in this very moment.

Did you just fall in love with Park Jimin?

Before you could question your emotions any longer, you could only register the faint whisper of Jimin’s: “I’m gonna spin you now.” before being launched into the rotation and then dipped into Jimin’s grasp.

All the while you were laughing like a lunatic, your brain still not registering what just happened.  As you began to calm down, you realised that you were still in the dipping position and that Jimin, who was leaning on top of you, was dead silent.

“What are you looking at-”

“Can I kiss you?”

[thedeathdeelers]

First lines

i was tagged by @sunsetcurveofficial - thank you so much! 🥰

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

i’m not sure i have 20 stories up yet, but here we go:

1. ghost [luke, 700 words]

he’s a disappointment.

2. oops? [juke, 1.2k]

She had never thought about it when she had first met them - back when it wouldn’t have mattered anyway because they were, well, ghosts, incorporeal.

3. i think i dreamed you into life [juke, 2.1k]

It was a Julie & Luke writing session, just like any other.

4. religion [luke/juke, drabble]

Luke Patterson was never much of a religious person.

5. study break [juke, 1.3k]

“Hey Jules, what’s up?”

6. you’re music to me [juke, 2.2k]

“So, how come you guys are always here?”

7. childhood crushes [juke, 2.7k]

“So you’re sure it’s in one of these?”

8. (song)titles are impossible [juke, 2k]

Julie was sat on the old black couch in the studio, staring blankly into space.

9. joebe? phoey? [julie & reggie, 500 words]

“Mija, why all the shouting?”

10. i’ll go wherever you will go [juke, 2.9k]

Saturday morning found Julie wide awake tossing and turning. At 7:30am.

11. avocado [julie & reggie, 800 words]

Julie was having a quiet day. Which was rare, to say the least.

12. willex [reggie & alex, 240 words]

It had started off as a normal day for Alex (as normal as it got for anxious ghosts), but of course things shifted the moment he let Reggie go unchecked halfway through their conversation.

13. code word: willex [willex, 614]

“Hotdog, you know I love your bandmates but Reggie has got to be on something. He just-“ Willie cut himself off the moment he sees him on the floor, curled in on himself with his head resting on his knees.

14. i’m going out of my mind [reggie & ray, 475 words]

It’s been a couple of weeks now, and Ray hasn’t had any other potentially supernatural occurrences.

15. where are my glasses [reggie & ray, 459]

“Carlos! Have you seen my glasses? I can’t find them again!”

16. candles [luke, 518 words]

It was his 5th birthday, and he was so, so excited.

17. dude, where are my keys [reggie & ray, 636 words]

Ray was running late. He was running so, very late.

i think that’s everything so far!

hm, ao it turns out i like to start my fics with a line of dialogue - i guess to kind of just jump right into things? altho there’s a balance where i also start some with narrative/setting the scene. also i’ve managed to slowly write more for each fic, so there’s that heh

i’m tagging: @smolfangirl, @tmp-jatp, @tangledstarlight, @tonightthestarsalign, @ruzek-halstead, @sunset-sweeerve, @phantomsandsunsets, @sunsetcurvecuddles, @ourstarscollided (ok so i know you haven’t posted any but i do know you have loads of WIPs so, 😌), @unsaidjulie

ok i’m limiting myself to 10 people, otherwise it’ll be a never ending list.

and honestly anyone else who feels like doing this, consider yourself tagged 🤗

[shakencharlies]

I am Kiryu

I got really sad and what was a small drabble to help me chill out turned into a 800+ fic so oops...English is not my first language so if you have any suggestions to help fix anything I will gladly take them. I hope you enjoy my nonsense. 

Edit: I have uploaded it to A03 here is the link if you’d like to read it there

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30644183

I open my eyes to see the love of my life shed his snakeskin jacket, a second set of skin to him. No matter how many times he sheds it before me in our dance of death or even now in our moment of peace, his body will never stop being as beautiful as the first time I laid my eyes upon it. His body tells of his story using the millions of scars, memories, that litter it. I move my hands over the fields of pain, whispering loving apologies as I pass each one, the lifted skin pushing into my fingertips. My hands wander all around him, silently showing him my love, I use them to guide our bodies to bed where we sit breathing in each other’s air. One hand falls upon his face, the unkempt hair of his beard scratches against my palm. I see his tired brown eye close and a sigh escapes his lips as he leans into my touch. I sweep my thumb over the dark skin that takes over under his eye. I join him and close my eyes pushing our foreheads together, the seemingly permanent furrow of my brow fading as I inhale, basking in the love that radiates us both. After what seems like a lifetime we both open our eyes, his long black lashes fluttering open like a hummingbird’s wings, the browns of our souls mixing together like a pool of fallen autumn leaves. I land my thumb over the small mole always hidden behind a black leather patch, a secret that only I know. I lean forward pushing my lips onto his, soft and plush, incomparable to mine, rough yet gentle. The kiss ends, a small connection but enough to electrify us both.

I feel a presence between us, one of jealousy and hurt. Her. How could I forgot her. I move my hands away despite the quiet whine of my love and move them to his back. The whine disappears, a shudder taking its place. Silently he turns settling back into his spot and lowers his head letting her take over. I gasp at the sight before me, my breath shaking at her beauty. Her white face illuminating the scars sprawled across her owner’s back. Her green eyes pierce into my soul harder and deeper than any stab of her owner’s tanto. Her usual grin now morphed into a look of anger, disdain, jealousy. I understand why, I had been giving her owner so much attention but never her, she was calling, making herself feel known so that she would not be left out. I rubbed my hands over her horns tracing their rough pattern before reaching the tips and finally moving down to smooth over her cheeks, framing her in all her glory. I leaned down and pressed my lips against her forehead, the expression of anger now morphing to one of comfort. I exhaled through my nose, the hot air warming her cold skin. Seeing that she was satisfied I pulled her owners back towards my chest. I wrapped my arms around him, laying my head against the creek of his neck. There was no need for either one of us to lift our heads and gaze into each others eyes, from the warmth of our skin I could tell that he was happy. Most likely showing his sharpened teeth in a smile. Not the smile that he would use to warn and scare off those who dared get close but the smile that was so rare, the smile only few have seen, the smile that made me fall in love.

We sit in silence for there are no words needed, just by the beat of our hearts and the sound of our breath we knew what words were to be said. I lift my head to see the smile that stole my heart, yellowed from years of smoking but bright nevertheless. Our eyes meet again, we see the guilt and sadness in our souls leaking through threatening to expose the truth that we keep hidden away from the judgmental world. I see them become glassy and a tear slides down his face. The tears that follow begin staining his eyelashes and the scar that etched its self on his eye, a reminder of his past mistakes, his past guilt. I move my hand up to wipe it away and pull his head down to mine. I whisper words of my love into the air, barely audible to the world but not to the man in his arms. Everything once again goes silent and we stay where we are, not daring to move, as if it was the only pose we could hold or we’d die. Having my love in my arms, him knowing he’s safe and cared for once makes me realize that I do not fear the world outside the room. When we are alone all I need is the sound of his heart and the sight of his chest moving in its hypnotic rhythm of breath to know that I am safe. I am Loved. I am Kiryu.

[kaetastic]

Toy Accident

pairing: Frankie Morales x Reader

summary: Just Frankie stumbling from the widespread display of his son’s toys, except- he hadn’t exactly stumbled his eyes upon it.

word count: 800+

warning: f l u f f, indirect mention of something nsfw at the end oop

note: honestly, i wanted to make this a drabble- but what’s the difference between that and oneshot? is it smaller? ion care because i need this happiness >:(

“Honey, have you seen that tie? I swear I’ve seen it around here somewhere,” Frankie yelled out, though, the last sentence he had whispered under his breath as if talking to himself, lips gestured towards the open crack between his door and its frame. Although, his eyes and the rest of his body remained facing the closet. If the tie had been able to move and crawl away, it would not be able to under his hawk-like eyes. He would not allow something this small run away from him. Or, maybe- he had just been on the edge, slightly paranoid because he clearly remembered seeing it lie somewhere in his room. It was too general for his liking. The closet he had rummaged to find the single tie. It was utter chaos. Was chaos enough to describe what he had done to the closet? No. Not really. It seemed as if a tornado had thrown a tantrum.

Floral shirts of his draped down from the wooden shelves, the neatly folded t-shirts have been plucked out to see what cowered beneath the layers. Even though his mission was to find the sole tie, he was out of luck. The tie that would make up the outfit. Frankie began to lose hope. Every drawer he had pulled open, doors he had yanked for him to remember that he didn't store his ties in them, had not proved a tint of luck. With every storage item he had opened, he was bound to find the single tie. Yet, he was at a dead-end. If his wife had seen the disaster he had conjured up, she would only assume he had a wild animal of sort into their bedroom.

“Which tie?” The response came back as loud as she could squeeze her chest. Except, it faded as echoes bounced off the walls. Although it trickled along his ears in strings of a died down reply, Frankie could still make out the sentence that came all the way from the kitchen.

Seconds ticked on the clock that hung high on the wall. Before it has the chance to hit thirty seconds, Frankie pulled himself away from the shadows of the drawer in a huff of frustration, “The blue one with white stripes!” His veins popped up to rise to the surface, displaying a clear feeling of irritation from the object. It seemed as if whenever he wanted something, it is always hiding. Hiding in plain sight, nothing the power of the mother can’t do.

Y/N hummed as she thought of the last time she had grazed her eyes upon the desired tie. Fingers clutched around the whisk, the metal rods of the instrument sang a song while its head was being rammed into the plastic bowl, “Check the third drawer, second from the top!”

The corners of his lips curled down when he yanked open the assumed drawer that would have the tie he wanted. Goddamn. This was a hide and seek game. And he hated every bit of it. Although he could hear his heart thrumming a victory song, it had been too early. All of his joy was flushed out at the sight of a drawer full of his boxers, “Not here!”

Frankie huffed, hands quick to push the drawer back to slamming shut. His feet paced over the frigid wooden floor, the freezing bites was soon melted as he stepped out of the bedroom, “Honey, do you think-”

A boisterous thud creaked into the house, followed by rolling of wheels. The sound of skin slamming onto the ground squeaked a cry. The noise of the toy train clambering away from the crime scene had been comedic. Fast-paced shuffling of feet sprinted towards the source of the noise, “Frankie!”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” He put his hands up in surrender when he got on his knees, the extended hands from his wife to aid him was retracted back. Y/N grimaced at the sight of her husband surrounded by the small chunk of toys owned by her son. “I should’ve made sure to look down.” 

Y/N cooed at the man who held the vibrantly coloured wooden train. With her apron still on, plastered smears of the white powder and bits of eggshells decorated the protective layer between her and the messiness of cooking. Her clean fingers, although there had been slight residue left behind, that she had patted in a hurry rested on his cheeks, the prickly feeling of his growing beard he decided to grow out prodded into the pads of her fingers. “I’ll tell him to clean up after himself.”

The man chuckled, eyes rolling at her words while he slipped his arms around her waist. The scent of comforting vanilla filled his nose, “He’s just three years old.” 

“Mhm, you’re old and you still have not learned how to clean yourself.” Frankie’s eyebrows furrowed at her words, his head processed to what she had meant. But the faint smirk she wore as she shifted back to the kitchen gave everything away. 

“Hey!”