#drabble writing challenge

[gimmethatagustd]

morals on sundays | myg

You're still in love with your ex-boyfriend. Yoongi offers some help to get over him.

○ Pairing: BFF!Yoongi x f!Reader

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Friends with benefits, angst, smut, fluff

○ 6 / 100 Drabble Challenge (FWB)

○ Word Count: 2,177

○ Warnings: MC's boyfriend cheated on her, post-breakup blues, questionable decision making, fingering so good you'll try to run away from it, pussy eating, too much tongue sucking probably, Yoongi is a boob guy, they have matching Spongebob and Patrick coffee mugs so why aren't they married?? Idiots

○ Notes: Shout out to @sailoryooons for also writing about a daegu boy eating pussy tonight 😌 And, as usual, I wrote this with scrambled eggs for brains and didn't proofread it, so if you see any errors, no you didn't

○ Post Date: January 22, 2024

○ Masterlist | Send me ur thots

○ What was Jai listening to? Imported - Jessie Reyez ft. 6LACK

Lately, you’ve felt like disappearing – not into a crowded city street in another country or down an unlit dirt road into the unknown, but into the warm folds of Yoongi’s hoodie. You’re already halfway there, with your fingers interlaced with his, shoved into the large front pocket, and your face tucked into his shoulder. 

“Fuck, I hate taking the bus,” he curses, his words turning into a cloud that disappears into the cold air. 

“How much time do we have?” 

Yoongi turns his head, and his lips briefly touch the cold curve of your ear. 

“You’re mumbling. What’d you say?”

“How much time until it comes?” You squint up at him, cheek still pressed against his shoulder. It’s too warm here to want to move. 

“Can’t check the app on my phone unless you give me my hands.” 

“No.” 

Yoongi chuckles and jostles your head by bobbing his shoulders. 

“I thought our date would cheer you up.” His complaint is playful, eyes sparkling in the streetlights when he returns his gaze to the empty road. You should have gotten a taxi. 

“I’m gonna die alone. Doesn’t matter how much late-night pizza I eat or how many stupid action movies I watch,” you grumble into Yoongi’s shoulder. 

“Even when the action movie lead has a super hot sex scene that’s poorly timed and irrelevant to the plot?” 

“Nope.”

“Even when the coolest guy on the entire planet was the one who took you?” Yoongi smiles cheekily, his gaze back on you. He wiggles his shoulders again, hard enough to bounce your head. 

Annoyed, you straighten up, hands still shoved in his pockets. The movie wasn’t that bad. The pizza was actually great. You’re just depressed. 

“I didn’t think it would take this long…” You whisper into the little space between your body and Yoongi’s. He knows you aren’t talking about the bus. 

Yoongi squeezes your hands inside his hoodie. The rest of you might be freezing in the winter night air, but at least Yoongi keeps your hands warm. He keeps your heart warm, too, with his sincere gaze when he looks at you. 

“You were too good for him.” 

Yoongi’s right. He’s always right. 

You’re sufficiently frozen by the time the bus finally arrives. Yoongi pays for you both because he’s trying to make life easy. No bumps in the road, no unnecessary stress. He lets you sit in a window seat so you can stare out at the blurry night scenery and have your sad main character moment for as long as it takes to get to your apartment. 

Once you arrive, he follows you inside and heads straight to the kitchen while you slump down the hall to your bedroom. The cold seeps so deeply into your bones that the sweatpants and sweater you change into barely help increase your body temperature. 

Maybe it’s because the sweatpants and sweater are your ex-boyfriend’s, and the universe wants to keep your body as cold as his heart was. 

In the kitchen, Yoongi uses a wooden spoon to stir hot chocolate in a small pot, your favorite kind that comes in a block of chocolate that melts with milk. It’s likely been years since Yoongi has made you hot chocolate. Cozy winter nights indoors were once commonplace, the two of you alternating between apartments to make each other snacks and treat cuddles like currency. The appearance of your ex put an end to the comfort you shared with Yoongi. It put an end to most things that brought you comfort. 

As you expect, Yoongi has two mugs out on the counter. You reach for yours, twisting it in your hands as you wait for him to finish. 

“Remember when Spongebob tried to become best friends with Squidward instead of Patrick?” Yoongi asks, turning off the stove. He uses a ladle to pour hot chocolate into his pink mug, then pours some into your yellow one. 

“Yes.” 

“He was Squidward. I’m just mad I didn’t get to blow up his house–” Yoongi laughs and nearly spills his drink when you smack him in the arm, “–with bubbles! With bubbles. I’m not homicidal.” 

Rolling your eyes, you set down your mug next to Yoongi’s, both drinks too hot to drink quickly. 

“Thank you,” you mumble, hooking your finger into his hoodie pocket and tugging lightly, the action absentminded. You keep your eyes cast downward because you don’t want him to see your tears if they run. “I’m sorry I’ve been in such a shitty mood. I know it’s been a while, but, it just… I don’t know. I can’t stop thinking about him, and everything fucking hurts…” 

Yoongi slips his fingers under your sleeve and circles your wrist, pulling your hand away from his pocket so he can lace your fingers together. They’re so much warmer now, defrosted by the heat blasting through your apartment and Yoongi’s hot chocolate. 

“Maybe you could start by not wearing his clothes?” Yoongi offers quietly. “Can’t imagine it’s easy to get over someone when you keep them on your body like that.” 

You sniffle and nod. Again, Yoongi is always right. 

“Easier said than done…” you mumble, giving him a weak smile when you finally meet his eyes. There’s something there in his expression, something that seems different. 

You don’t move away when Yoongi steps closer, even when he has you backed against the counter, even when you feel like you’re going to swallow your heart. 

“I could take them off for you,” Yoongi says softly. He lets go of your sleeve to pinch the hem of your sweater, tugging it lightly. “If you can’t do it, I can.” 

“Yeah?” You feel out of breath, maybe because you suck in your stomach when Yoongi’s fingers brush against it. 

“Yeah,” he echoes, fingers sliding along your ribs as he pushes your sweater up. “So you can get over him.” 

It’s a terrible idea, but your stomach flutters when he looks at you with sleepy eyes weighed down by the late hour and lust. He bites his bottom lip, and you feel your resolve slip as easily as Yoongi’s fingers do beneath your clothes. 

“I want to.” The declaration is desperate, and for a moment, you can’t do anything but stare into Yoongi’s eyes with an all-consuming sadness that eats at your insides, gnawing on bones and biting holes into your lungs. “God, Yoongi, I want to.” 

Yoongi touches his forehead to yours, making you close your eyes because he’s too close and you’re too much of a coward. 

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi whispers. His voice is as gentle as his hands on your bare waist, his thumbs caressing your sensitive skin. 

You raise your arms for Yoongi to pull off your sweater. He’s confident when he squeezes your tits, doesn’t even seem caught off guard when he realizes you’re not wearing anything under the sweater. He brushes his thumbs over your nipples as he leans in to kiss you, his tongue tasting sweet from the hot chocolate when he flicks it against yours. 

“Yoongi,” you call out with an airy sigh that harmonizes nicely with the sound of him sucking open-mouthed kisses down your neck. 

“Hmm?” Yoongi hums against the base of your throat, the vibration sending a tingling sensation straight to your clit. He keeps one hand on the counter beside your waist, caging you in, while his other hand cups your pussy over your sweatpants. 

“Oh,” you gasp, your hands immediately finding Yoongi’s firm shoulders when he starts rubbing your clit, occasionally dipping his fingers lower to press against your entrance, soaking the fabric. 

“These are his, too, right?” 

“Y-yes,” you moan as Yoongi pulls down your sweatpants, taking your underwear with them. 

You can’t say you never thought about how attractive Yoongi is; it’s hard to ignore. It’s just that Yoongi is your best friend. If anything were to happen between the two of you, you don’t know if you’d be able to survive losing him, too. You love him. 

But you also love your ex. 

It’s hard to think about that, though, with two of Yoongi’s fingers pumping in and out of your pussy. They’re long, reaching deeper than your own can when you finger yourself, always late at night when you’re lonely. It never feels good after. The clarity always seems to hit too quickly, like being dunked in a pool of ice water. 

Three months. That’s how long it’s been since another person touched you, since you found out your ex-boyfriend had been cheating on you. You didn’t realize how much you missed it until you’ve got your head thrown back and your thighs quivering as Yoongi fucks you with his fingers. You nearly climb up the counter, both wanting him to touch you more and trying to get away because it’s too good. 

Your ex never searched for the spot that would make your legs shake, but Yoongi does. He curls his fingers against your front wall and keeps up his rhythm, moving with your body when you can’t control where it goes. 

“Fuck, right there.” You’re burning up, veins turned to lava that’s rushing toward your core as Yoongi fucks you closer and closer to your orgasm until you’re on the verge of tears because you haven’t been touched in so long and you’re so lonely and you weren’t good enough. You weren’t enough. 

“Wanna make you cum,” Yoongi groans, deep and gravelly, between licking a stripe up your tits and sucking your nipples. 

“Please,” you moan, “Please, I’m so close.” 

Your arousal gushes around his fingers, slicking them up and making your pussy squelch when Yoongi flutters them inside you. He keeps his thumb pressed against your clit, almost too hard. It stops you from bucking your hips, but you can barely stand as it is. 

Yoongi’s lips are back on yours, red from sucking your nipples until it hurt. He whispers against your lips and opens his mouth to let you suck on his tongue with a pathetic whimper. 

“Not yet, though.” 

“Wha– Yoongi, no–” It’s embarrassing how loudly you cry out when Yoongi slips his fingers out of your pussy. You feel the fire in your core simmer until you’re left with a painfully throbbing clit and your juices smeared on your inner thighs. 

“Shhh, you know I always take care of you.” Yoongi shuts you up with a bite to your bottom lip. He leans down slightly to squeeze the backs of your thighs and hoist you up onto the counter. “Lean back.” 

The cold marble counter sends shivers across your body, but it can’t keep up with the heat of Yoongi’s mouth on your pussy. He kisses your lips so gently that you think you might actually cry before he pushes your thighs back, opening you up. 

“Oh fuck,” you moan as Yoongi goes straight for your clit, sucking on it as he swirls his tongue around it. You dig your hands into his hair and tug the strands hard enough to make him moan into your pussy. “Use your, use–” 

Yoongi laps at your clit in quick, consistent bursts that fall in line with the tempo he’s fucking you to with two fingers again. His free hand presses against your lower abdomen, keeping your body taunt so you don’t buck into his face or curl inward. It’s bad enough that you can’t stop your legs from shaking when one rests on his shoulder and the other drapes over the crook of his arm. 

It’s messy and loud, Yoongi licking and sucking your pussy like he really is trying to empty your mind of everything but the way the tip of his hot, wet tongue feels swirling your clit and the stretch of his fingers when he slips a third inside you and focuses on massaging the sensitive part of your walls. It’s working. He completely consumes your senses, down to how gorgeous he looks staring at you from between your thighs. 

Your Yoongi, fingerfucking you and sucking your clit like you’re his favorite meal. 

You try not to bang your head against the counter when you finally cum, instead focusing the overwhelming energy into pulling Yoongi’s hair to keep his face in your pussy.

He continues fucking you with his fingers through your orgasm, to the point that you can’t lie still any longer. 

“Yoongi, oh my god, Yoongi, it’s too much,” you whimper and gasp, thighs closing around his head until he finally eases his fingers out of you. 

Strings of your arousal connect his lips with your pussy until he swipes his tongue along his bottom lip, cutting them off. His bangs are pushed off his forehead and his hair sticks up from you pulling on it, but his eyes sparkle and his cheeks are just as rosy as his pink, slicked-up lips. 

“Shit,” Yoongi murmurs, leaning over you on the counter to kiss you. He shoves his tongue in your mouth and lets you suck your juices from it. 

You think you taste better on Yoongi’s tongue than on your ex’s. 

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. 

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here. 

@jooniesxbby @seokteoksworld @taegeum @dprmoon @chimmisbae

#yoongi x reader #bts x reader #yoongi smut #bts smut #yoongi angst #bts angst #yoongi fluff #bts fluff #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #mos #100 drabble challenge

[starrystevie]

it's 2004 when steve finds himself back in hawkins for the first time since he moved away for good. he has a master's degree under his belt, a mortgage on a house outside of st. louis with a dog and picket fence, and a rockstar that wormed his way into his heart next to him in bed every night. he's closer to 50 than he is to 20 and life feels good, life feels settled, figured out in a way he never thought he'd get to see.

"you gonna tell me why you're shakin' like a leaf?"

but sitting across from wayne munson and his sharp gaze is enough to make him feel like a teenager again.

steve takes a sip from his glass of water before setting it down on the end table next to him and watches the way wayne's finger taps against the side of his coffee cup. it's like he's keeping rhythm with something that steve can't hear, like a drum beat in his head that proves that he's the reason eddie has musical talent.

"i'm fine," he responds back to wayne, a stilted smile crossing his face. wayne's gaze deepens like he he doesn't believe him. "i'm fine!"

there's a clock ticking somewhere in the living room and the faucet in the kitchen is dripping quietly and it makes the silence that falls between them even more deafening. steve takes in a deep breath and nods absently as he rubs his palms over his denim clad knees.

"is he in trouble?" wayne asks in a gruff voice, low and to the point. steve shakes his head immediately, stutters out something that sounds like no, and wayne looks at him with his eyebrows pinched together. "are you in trouble?"

"no, it's not-" steve stands up and paces out some of his nerves, hands shoved into his pockets so that he stops waving them around. he sighs and looks back at wayne. "it's nothing bad."

"if it ain't bad, then just say it."

steve groans and runs his hands through his hair. it's harder to do this than he thought it would be, quite possibly the hardest thing he's done in years and that's including having to admit to eddie that he does indeed like the stupid beard he grew as a dare from jeff. wayne is still staring at him with a determined look, like he won't let steve get away with any of his usual charming bullshit, and looks so much like eddie that it makes something in his heart explode.

"fine! i'm asking eddie to marry me and i need your permission or something. happy old man?" he finally says, or well, shouts. it's too loud in the quiet house and he can see wayne wince from the decibel he reaches but it's out. it's off his chest and he's finally said it.

and wayne is smiling.

seeing him smile is strange, not because he doesn't look good with a smile, but because it's not often that steve gets to bear witness to it. it starts off slow, clipped at the edges before it spreads to his cheeks and crinkles his eyes. steve's breathing hard when wayne stands up and wraps his hands around the tops of his shoulders. he can feel himself shaking under wayne's grip and from this close, he can see the tears that he knows wayne is fighting against.

"it's about damn time, boy. took you two long enough to pull your heads outta your backsides."

getting hugged by wayne is almost weirder than seeing him smile. it's short, to the point, with pats on backs and chuckles that break loose from steve's too tight chest. part of him wishes eddie were here to let him be a part of the moment, but it would ruin the surprise he's so carefully planned, so he revels in the rare time between just the two of them.

"had to wait for somewhere to allow it first, wayne," steve mutters as they pull apart and he feels hope unfurl somewhere within him when he says it.

"well, alright, i guess you're off that hook then. but y'know," wayne's sitting back down in his arm chair and steve does the same, matching grins plastered on their faces. "you don't need my permission. that boy is crazy over you and if you think you ain't a part of this family already, then you're crazier than he is."

steve looks around at the pictures on the shelf behind wayne's head. sees young eddie and wayne with arms around each other, sees a makeshift graduation picture, an out of focus one of the two of them outside their house in missouri, one of all three of them around the chritmas tree in '99 when they had wayne come down to see them, and he thinks, yeah. they're already a family. at least now it'll be paper official.

#don't ask i just wanted to write about wayne okay #bee try to not write wayne as if he is uncle bobby from spn challenge failed #steddie #steddie headcanon #my writing #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet #wayne munson the man that we have made you........ #this is long but i didn't want to ruin the flow with a read more so pls forgive me #crush the idea that a man has to ask permission to marry u but steve absolutely still would because he thinks it's what a gentleman does

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 26: drunken confession

Masterlist flufftober 🎀

Another one a little long that I love. I hope you like it :)

"Hey, look who's coming over there!"

Morgan's cheerful voice forced Spencer to look up from the bar and it was then that you could see that Derek hadn't lied when he called you: he seriously was hopelessly drunk.

"Y/N!" he shouted, slurring his words and grinning from ear to ear as he opened his arms to fling himself in your direction. Luckily you closed the distance to grab him to keep him from falling off the wooden bench he was on "How did you know I wanted to see you?"

You heard Morgan let out a chuckle at this, as if he hadn't had to listen to his incessant pleas for him to call you, since Spencer was pretty clear that only under those conditions would he return home.

"Oh, I can read your mind, didn't you know that?" you joked and he, whose reality was completely altered, widened his eyes in astonishment as if he genuinely believed your words.

"I'm sorry for upsetting you, it's just that he can be very stubborn at times" Morgan apologized.

You two knew each other because of your common friendship with Spencer and on more than one occasion members of the unit had included you in their activities, so there was a degree of trust.

"Why did he get drunk, anyway?" you muttered, with the man still in your arms and his head buried firmly in your neck "I mean, he... you know, he doesn't do it because of his streak of sobriety”

"I honestly don't know. He just asked me to join him here and he ordered one cocktail and then another and well, he ended up like this."

That didn't sound like Spencer, for you knew that if there was one thing the man had, it was strong willpower to stay free of anything that would alter his body chemistry. You were suddenly worried that something had happened and he hadn't told you, although judging by the state he was in it wasn't the most appropriate time to find out. Still, you could try later.

"I'm tired, I want to go home" he complained, rubbing his nose against the skin of your bare shoulder. You didn't think Spencer would get so clingy under the effects of alcohol, because of that whole germ thing, so you were slightly surprised to feel how he was holding you so tightly.

"Do you want me to help you carry him?" asked Morgan and after your friend got off the bench you looked at him for a second, checking that with a little of your help he could still stand to walk to your car.

"Don't worry. Everything under control”

"Are you sure?"

"One hundred percent”

"Well, in that case I'll see you later. Bye kiddo, be sure to call me when you're home."

"Bye, Morgan!" he hiccupped cheerfully, waving goodbye to his friend and getting a pat on the shoulder.

You two stumbled to the parking lot, but with enough luck you made it to your car in one piece and once there you were able to throw him into the passenger seat, making sure to buckle him in before starting.

Once you started the engine, you asked your friend if he was ready for you to leave, and since Spencer's entire body was turned in your direction, it wasn't hard to notice his nod to your question.

You waited until you were a couple of blocks ahead before finally speaking, though you knew full well that he would answer truthfully to whatever you were going to ask him.

"Hey, Spencer”

"Yeah?"

"I'm not mad at you, but... Can I know why you drank?"

Out of the corner of your eye you saw him take a moment to ponder what had really been the reason for all that, and you waited patiently, until he finally got up the nerve to say something.

"I was sad”

"Sad?" 

"And I felt lonely" he completed. The red light allowed you to turn and look at him, and then you met his big, beautiful, melancholic honey-colored eyes. 

"You could have just called me"

“But you knew I needed to see you, right? Why didn’t you ever tell me you could read minds?”

You laughed at his innocence and just shook your head, incredulous to see how a genius had fallen to that level just for a couple of drinks. But you were still worried about what kind of emotional problem your friend was now afflicting and why he hadn't had the confidence to tell you, because after all you were supposed to tell each other everything and support each other. It had always been like this.

You wanted to ask him something else, but you noticed that Spencer's eyes had already closed suddenly, so you thought it would be best to wake him up until you were finally home.

“Reid,” you called softly, once you parked outside the building and unbuckled his seatbelt. He seemed oblivious to everything and for a second you feared you would have to leave him sleeping there until the next morning “Come on. Up"

As best you could, you managed to put his arm around your shoulders and half carry him to the entrance, making sure there were no gossiping eyes when you struggled to open the front door. You thought the staircase would be the most difficult, but fortunately he acquired a certain lucidity that lightened your load after the first step.

“Hi,” he greeted you, speaking too close to your face and smiling from ear to ear, as if he had just noticed your presence.

“Hello, hot stuff” you replied amused and your friend's cheeks blushed violently at your compliment, staying that way until you managed to reach the door with the number 23.

Once inside you managed to lead him to the small bed where he slept and then you let out a sigh of relief; he watched you from where you stood, still with that dizzy expression.

“It was difficult, but we're finally here, huh?”

“I have already been thinking about it very seriously. And I don't think you can read my mind," he said, sounding quite convinced “I mean, although there has been evidence that it's still not scientifically possible, you would need... you would need a lot of things that right now I don't know what they are, but that I know you don't have”

You giggled and then knelt next to the mattress to be closer to him, stretching one of your hands enough to brush his hair away from his forehead. Spencer smiled at your touch.

“You got me, I can't read your mind. Because if that were the case, I would walk in there right now…” with the tip of your finger you gently touched his forehead, bringing a smile to him “to find out what is making you so sad”

“Even if you wanted to, you couldn't. I'm not thinking about that.”

"No? And then what do you think about?” you asked gently.

Your smile was calm and you were very close to him, admiring with amusement the signs of drunkenness that were still in him. Spencer, as much as the situation allowed, was also watching you, although this time there was something different about him. While your friend looked at you fondly every time, now he seemed completely enthralled with you.

“It's not about that”

“Does it have anything to do with your mom?” 

“No, she's fine.”

"And then?" you insisted. He just kept watching you “Come on, what is that wonderful mind thinking?”

It took Spencer a second to respond.

"You"

"Me?" You murmured in a light voice. “And why do you think about me?”

You wanted to know what it was about, however, nothing could have prepared you for the response you were going to receive.

“I'm thinking about how pretty you are. And how much I want to kiss you right now”

You unconsciously leaned back, and to say you were surprised was an understatement, because you were completely taken aback. Although you had clearly heard every word drawn from his tongue, your mind was wondering if he had seriously confessed that he wanted to kiss you.

“Huh… what…?”

“I think about how much I want to kiss you all the time, actually. Every time I see you, and smell your perfume, and I see your smile, and you touch me... it's like you drive me completely crazy”

“Y-You don't know what you're saying,” you stammered, feeling those words unreal. “You're very drunk.” 

"It's true, but even if I am, I know well what I feel. And I know that I am so in love with you. As you can't imagine."

Even though he was drunk he sounded totally sure of what he was saying and he couldn't do anything but terrify you. Spencer wasn't supposed to be in love with you, you didn't even believe he was capable of harboring feelings of that nature for you. If you were honest, you didn't feel scared by what he was saying, but what worried you most was that you didn't know how to feel about it.

You were barely deciding what would be the right answer when he beat you to it:

“Why did you have to go out with that boy?”

"Sorry?"

“The one from your social network”

Your mind had to recalibrate so you could now focus on what he was referring to and understand that he was probably talking about your last date. You had met this guy online that you had liked and with whom you had made a date last week, just to be able to distract yourself a little from the routine of your work and, with a bit of luck, maybe think of a candidate for the future. 

It was obvious that you had told your friend and although you thought he was happy for you, you now knew that, surely, that wasn’t the case.

“Are you angry about that?”

"I'm sad!" he corrected you. The thought of him breaking his streak for you made you feel nauseous and if you could you would have told him it was a totally stupid reason "You're my friend and you're so pretty and you're going to date an idiot that I'm not”

“You're not an idiot.”

“But you don't want to date me either”

You were quiet for a moment, your brain practically burning to find the right words. You were afraid that one bad answer would hurt your friend or that another would give him false hope, because you didn't even know if you felt the same way about him to begin with. The confession had caught you so off guard that you needed time. Just a few hours, or maybe a day, to put in order the whirlwind of emotions that danced inside you so that you can offer a verdict.

Besides, Spencer was madly drunk, how could you trust the words of someone who was intoxicated?

“We'll talk about this tomorrow, okay?” you said at last, reaching out to caress his cheek as if you could offer some sort of comfort. “You're not up to it right now”

“Maybe you're not even real,” he mused, lost in whatever was on his mind “I'm just dreaming about you again.”

“Oh, I assure you, I'm very real,” you huffed, feeling the suffocating weight of the entire situation settle on your chest. “I just don't want to rush things. I need time and you need sleep”

"You love me?"

That wasn't a question, it was a plea. And it was breaking your heart not to be able to answer something to those crystallized eyes that were looking for some positive sign in your own cloudy gaze. 

“Spencer, I… Why don’t we discuss it tomorrow?”

“I just want to know if you love me,” he insisted. One of his hands shakily rose to your chest and planted himself there firmly, the tips of his fingers reaching your shoulder.

"Of course I love you. I love you a lot"

"But you love me?" 

You just wanted to hug him and maybe give him that kiss he wanted so much, but your mind kept screaming at you that you would be taking advantage of your drunk friend and that you couldn't know if that would be something you would regret.

You took a deep breath to maintain your composure and with the hand that had previously been on his cheek you took charge of holding his hand, still at the level of your heart.

“I will answer you tomorrow, when you can understand the answer, okay? I promise you"

Spencer smiled, defeated, and finally nodded his head. From his perspective there was no longer any hope, your response to what he felt was negative. 

“Can you at least stay with me until I fall asleep?”

"Yes, yes, of course. I'll stay as long as you want, honey”

“I like it when you call me that,” he murmured tenderly and quietly, as if he were afraid of saying the wrong thing. But when you smiled at him that worry dissipated.

“I'll make sure to remember it.”

You stayed in silence for a while, which was only broken when you asked him if he wanted you to turn off the light. He said no and then you stayed where you were, still holding his hand.

It took you a bit to convince him that to sleep he had to close his eyes, because he refused to stop looking at you. After a few minutes of him doing it, you began to see the first signs that he was falling into the realm of dreams.

“Y/N” he called to you, just when he was between the limbo of consciousness and unconsciousness.

"Yeah?"

“I hope you love me tomorrow”

You stayed with him until you checked that he was sound asleep, as you had promised, and then you returned home. You didn't even sleep that night, tossing and turning in bed for hours while your brain racked to understand what your heart was feeling.

And at least one thing was certain, that, the next morning, when you returned to Spencer's apartment with breakfast in one hand and his favorite coffee in the other, you already had an answer.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @vivian-555 @r-3dlips @rhiannonhippiegirl @taygrls @simp4f1 @sdddoobydoobydoo @taintedstranger @missabsey

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x you #flufftober 2023 #prompt list #writing challenge #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Sweet indulgence 🛼

Written for the Valentine's Day pop-up challenge of the @steddieholidaydrabbles blog.

Rated: G

CW: none

Tags: No UD AU; Future fic; Flirting; Sexual Tension; Record label owner!Eddie; Waiter!Steve; Steve in roller skates; First date (Eddie says it counts 💖)

Notes: continued from this one.

"You can’t be fucking serious,” Steve says. 

“Why not?” Eddie throws the garishly pink flier back down on the table. “It’s still Valentine’s Day.” 

“For thirteen more minutes,” Steve bristles, pen pressing down on his little notepad so hard that Eddie is afraid he’ll punch a hole through it. “You don’t even have a date.” 

“Didn’t know that was required,” Eddie grins. “All I’m saying is, if you offer a Valentine’s Day special, then that special should be available for the entirety of Valentine’s Day, so …” 

Steve makes an exasperated sound, but still jots down the order. 

“You’re being ridiculous,” he barks over his shoulder as he pushes away from the table and disappears into the kitchen. “Just so you know.” 

Eddie watches him glide away, legs and ass a meal in their own right in those shorts and knee-highs and the fucking roller skates. 

Maybe the boy has a point. Maybe he is being ridiculous. 

It’s not exactly normal behavior, discovering that your former high school king is now a waiter at the diner down the street, and then promptly declaring said diner your new after-work dinner spot. But Eddie never claimed to be normal. And he’s always been a tad bit obsessed with Steve Harrington, so here they are. 

Steve has long resigned himself to his nightly visits. Never once has he acknowledged their shared history, and Eddie hasn’t pushed. Instead, he’s slowly putting together all the little puzzle pieces he’s been collecting. 

Steve will grumble and scowl and bitch over Eddie’s absurd orders and constant attempts at flirting, but he never fails to pocket his generous tips, so he must be struggling financially. He’s pulling at least one job besides the one at the diner. Most likely a babysitting gig, as indicated by the sparkly hair clips and stickers that Eddie regularly spots in his hair and on his clothes. He’s also not seeing anyone, because if he was, he sure as hell wouldn’t be working the night shift on Valentine’s Day. 

He also hasn’t eaten in a while, if the tummy rumble as he brings the order is anything to go by. Eddie quirks a brow. Steve blushes and hugs the tray to his chest. 

“Enjoy your meal,” he says, but Eddie holds up a hand and gestures invitingly at the empty seat opposite him. 

“Join me?” 

Steve’s brow furrows. “I’m on the clock.” 

“Oh yeah, and super fucking busy, I can see,” Eddie quips. “Indulge me, my liege.” 

Steve chews on his bottom lip, casting a hesitant glance towards the kitchen. Finally, he sighs and slips into the free seat. Eddie hands over one of the two cupcakes on his plate, decorated in a lopsided tower of frosting and a smattering of heart-shaped sprinkles. Steve devours nearly half of it with two enormous bites, and if triumph blooms warm and heavy in Eddie’s chest, that’s neither here nor there. 

“So,” he drawls, ignoring his own cupcake in favor of stacking his chin on top of his folded hands, peering at Steve over the rim of his sunglasses. “How was your day? Been handing out lots of these little babies?” 

Steve rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah, sure,” he says around a mouthful of frosting. “Have you seen this place? Premium date spot. So classy and romantic.” 

They lapse into silence for a few seconds. Steve grabs the milkshake with the two straws without waiting for an invitation and takes an enormous sip. There’s a tiny pink sprinkle at the corner of his mouth. Eddie resists the temptation to reach out and wipe it away. 

“What about you, huh? You own the record label down the street, right? Surely your day was much more interesting than mine.” 

So he isn’t the only one who’s been puzzling, Eddie thinks. 

“Hellfire Records,” he nods, happy to ramble about his baby, even though Steve’s attempt at diverting the topic is not nearly as subtle as the boy may think. “We have some pretty cool bands, but I’m not sure they’re your taste, exactly.” 

“Oh?” Steve shoves the last bit of cupcake into his mouth, licking leftover frosting off his fingers. “Bold of you to assume that you’d know my taste. Indulge me?” 

Eddie does. 

Steve does, it turns out, know fuck all about metal and grunge, but he’s surprisingly interested and open-minded. Much more open-minded than Eddie would’ve expected from Hawkins High royalty. By the time they wrap up their little talk and make their way over to the counter, Steve has finished not only the milkshake, but also the second cupcake.

When Eddie hands over the usual fifty, Steve hesitates. 

“You already gave me all the food.” 

Eddie smiles easily. “So? Gotta let my favorite waiter know I appreciate him on this fine holiday.” 

Something flits over Steve’s face, something open and vulnerable, but it’s gone as soon as it came. 

“Don’t think you can buy my affection, Eddie,” he murmurs, snatching the bank note from Eddie’s fingers and stuffing it into his apron pocket. 

“Don’t worry,” Eddie winks and saunters towards the door - carefully making sure to keep the giddy spring out of his step. Steve called him Eddie. Not Munson. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

“Good,” Steve calls after him. “See you tomorrow?” 

“You bet, big boy,” Eddie says. He’s just about to leave when something else occurs to him. “And I’ll be sure to pick a nicer spot for our second date, promise.” 

Steve’s blush is as pink as the sprinkle that’s still stuck at the corner of his mouth. Eddie doesn’t wait for his retort, just shuts the door and makes for home, grinning like a maniac.

🛼💕🛼💕🛼💕🛼💕🛼💕🛼💕🛼💕🛼💕🛼💕

Tagging some ppl who expressed interest last time: @p0lybl4nkk @fairytalesreality @colidamae @dissociatingdemon @steddhie @formosusiniquis @steddiehasmywholeheart @ellaelsinore @rozzieroos

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddieholidaydrabbles #steddieholidaydrabbles pop-up challenge #upside diner AU #ready to roll? #hype's holiday drabbles 2024

[4e7her]

october writing prompt #26 - "choose me.”

-

character: leona kingscholar, twst

contains: yandere themes, gn reader, reader is yuu

It wasn't uncommon for Leona to be someone's second choice.

He was used to it, really. He didn't mind it.

How could he, after so long of the same thing? He could only feel so much disappointment before it became the natural state of things, not being good enough. If this was his life, the fate that he was meant to suffer, he would get used to it. It was clear that none of his efforts would pull him out of second place by now.

But something about you had reignited the fire and the shame of losing.

All he wanted, all he needed, was to be your first choice. No one else's opinion mattered, if it was you. If he just heard it from you, if he could just see you choose him above all others - he would be able to live happily. Nothing would ever bring him down from that, he knew. He could feel it within the very fiber of his being.

You were the only one he needed approval from.

"...Why do you still hang around them?" Leona scoffed, the thrashing of his tail behind him betraying his upset. What need did you have for anyone else besides him? "Just find me if you need something. Don't bother with all those herbivores."

"I didn't want to bother you."

Sure, it was a reasonable response. One that might be expected, given who you were talking to - the second prince of the Afterglow Savannah, known for his distaste of extra work. Especially coming from someone in a position such as yourself, magicless and with no connections in this world.

"Tch, as if you could."

The lion roughly rested his hand on your shoulder, pulling you closer to him, practically into his side. His tail wrapped around your waist on instinct alone as he examined you, like those that you had been around would've harmed you in some way.

"Stop messing with me. You need something, tell me. I'm all you need, so ignore those idiots and choose me."

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twst #gender neutral reader #gender neutral post #aether's drabbles #yandere #yandere content #twst x gender neutral reader #twst x reader #twstober #leona kingscholar #yandere leona kingscholar #twst leona #leona kingscholar x reader #yandere leona x reader #savannaclaw x reader #savanaclaw #twst savanaclaw #october writing challenge

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

what a pretty flower.

the single morning glory stands out, fresh spring sunlight accentuating its indigo hue, glimmering like a shooting star just behind the chain-link fence. in the peripheral of your vision, it almost seems to glow; solitary and ephemeral, as if coaxing you into stepping closer.

and you can’t resist its call.

suguru blinks, a little dazed, when he feels your hand slip from his. the warmth of your intertwined fingers follows closely behind, and the loss of contact leaves him feeling slightly vexed, replaced by the gentle chill of the air.

he doesn’t get an explanation, either. attention entirely fixed on that mesmerizing indigo blur, you don’t say a thing — and with an eager kind of giddiness, you skip over to the fence, ready to fish it out.

suguru just sighs, mildly amused.

it’s nothing out of the ordinary, really. if you see something that captures your attention, suguru has come to learn that you’ll drop just about anything to go get a closer look. does it exasperate him, ever so slightly? sure. the involuntary twitch of his fingers reveals as much, almost as if coaxing him into waltzing over and grabbing your hand again.

but suguru is a patient man. especially when it comes to you. and, above all else — any habit of yours is endearing to him, even ones that include you leaving his side for a moment or two.

so he simply watches over you from afar, knowing you’ll return on your own; with your jacket tucked between his arm and his torso, a can of cold, too-sweet coffee in hand. suguru hasn’t put his lips on the aluminium in about five minutes, saving whatever’s left for the inevitable moment you start whining for just one tiny sip, please?

(he’ll roll his eyes, and tell you not to drink yours so quickly next time, but still hand it to you with a smile he’ll make sure you don’t see.)

suguru’s gaze is unspeakably fond, as he idly admires how the sunshine wraps you in its embrace. you almost seem to sparkle, in his vision, like a butterfly dancing in the wind — fluttering just barely out of reach, too fragile to touch. too beautiful to sully with human hands. maybe it's a tad dramatic, but suguru couldn't care less.

the air is warm, full of life. cicadas chirp from afar. within his veins, his blood buzzes with joy and cheap caffeine, and everything smells like spring. like something new, something delightful. something that makes him think of you.

suguru watches as you crouch down, watches how your nimble fingers struggle to fit through the narrow gaps of the chain-link fence. he can’t see the little frown that tugs at your lips, and he can’t hear your little muttered grumbles — but he can somehow feel your frustration, all the same. something about the way you ducked your head just now, the way your fingers tap against your bended knee.

but then, finally, your valiant efforts bear fruit. with a number of failed attempts that you’d rather not mention, you manage to pluck the small flower, bringing it to your side of the fence without too much of a fuss. suguru doesn’t have to see your face to know that your eyes must be bright, lips curled up into a victorious smile. one that always makes him feel a little weak in the knees.

dusting pollen and tiny pieces of grass off your knees, you stand up straight, wasting no time in turning on your heel and making your way back to his side — with the precious morning glory in tow. 

suguru waits, patiently, for you to return to him. 

when you do, he doesn’t even get a chance to speak; you part your lips before he can give you the usual raise of his eyebrow, soft tilt of his head, teasing inquiry of did you see something nice, sweetheart? all he can do is lean a little closer, making sure he hears every word your lovely voice graces him with. seeking the feeling of your breath against his skin, the warmth of your body when it’s tucked into his side.

(but he can’t get too greedy. so suguru keeps his distance, eyes rich with affection, looking at you like you’re the first flower blooming out of spring.)

and you speak, nearly bouncing on the balls of your feet, eyes shining with something giddy and honeyed — all too eager to see your idea through, the idea that crossed your mind the moment you laid eyes on the little flower.

”suguru,” you smile, sweet and excited. ”lean down.”

a blink, and a questioning look sent your way. your boyfriend shoots you a lazy smile, paired with a raise of his eyebrow that you’ve come to associate with him and his love.

despite the vague confusion painted on his features, suguru obeys your command without hesitation. always so willing to indulge you. he bends forward, compliantly, until he’s at eye level with you — face just a little too close for comfort, dark hazel eyes staring into yours in a way he knows flusters you terribly.

the butterflies in your stomach erupt at the intimate proximity, wings tickling your ribcage like soft petals sputtering after being rooted up from the ground — but you don’t allow yourself to falter.

(it’s a little tough, though. he looks so pretty, with the spring breeze caressing his cheek, soft streaks of sunlight falling over the contours of his handsome face. so, so pretty.

but there’s something that would make him look even prettier.)

so, with a gentleness that never fails to have suguru’s heartbeat hitching in his throat, your palm goes to smooth along his jaw. his eyes never leave your face, gazing intently at the way you press your lips together in concentration, barely resisting the urge to lean forward and kiss you. patient, as he waits for you to be finished.

it’s a tender motion: the pads of your fingers against his sunkissed skin, tucking the little flower behind his ear, its stem resting between his soft, silky locks. the indigo colour blends together well with his black hair, like a shooting star blooming in the night sky.

you lean back to admire your work.

”hmmm...”

suguru bites back a chuckle, at the intense contemplation etched onto your features. seemingly very deep in thought, you furrow your brows and absentmindedly stroke your chin — studying him with a serious expression, a tilt of your head and narrowed eyes, as if you’re an art dealer examining a painting on display. 

(you’re so silly, he thinks. the thought is positively overflowing with fondness.)

finally, you seem to reach some kind of conclusion; and your eyes soften, crumbling a little at the corners, painted over with something suguru can’t quite place. whatever it is, he suddenly finds it a little harder to breathe — all that love crammed into the confines of his chest, clogging up his throat. your eyes crinkle when you smile, oh so sweetly, burrowing your way deeper into his heart.

(you’re already in so deep he doubts he could ever dig you out.)

”yeah,” you exhale, a little breathless. still admiring how pretty he looks, with the morning glory in his hair. like a princess, your princess. 

your pretty, pretty boy.

a smile rests on your lips, laced with adoration. suguru feels his heartbeat pick up with a jolt, and he somehow doubts it’s just the caffeine; the sensation only deepens when your smile shifts in the light, melting into a soft grin.

”purple suits you best.”

suguru blinks. giving him no time to respond, you turn on your heel and continue walking, expecting him to follow. thoroughly satisfied after seeing your sudden objective through to the end — he looks just as pretty as you knew he would.

but suguru has to take a moment to simply watch, as you skip on ahead. always excited and off in your own world. the sun personified, he often thinks, peeking out after a rainshower, shining as you please. bringing light and warmth wherever you go.

maybe he would feel embarrassed, if he was another person. someone more insecure in their masculinity, less in love with you.

fortunately, that is not the case. suguru lifts a hand to stroke the flower, delicately, careful so it doesn’t loosen and flutter away with the wind. his heart feels warm. cheap caffeine and sweet thoughts rushing through his veins.

”— suguru?”

his gaze flits up to meet yours, where you stand a little further ahead, confused eyes looking into his own. a little tilt of your head is all it takes for him to move; catching up to you in long strides, a smile on his face.

”sorry. got lost in thought.”

you take his hand in yours, fingers intertwining with his own, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. as if your hands belong together. his smile widens.

”don’t like it?” you ask, nodding vaguely in the direction of the morning glory. suguru squeezes your hand reassuringly.

”not at all. thank you, baby,” he soothes, a teasing tilt to his smile. eyes hopelessly softened. ”does it look good on me?”

a little chuckle flows from your lips. breathing out a silent response — don’t ask me questions you already know the answers to. but you opt to indulge him, all the same, turning towards him with an affectionate gaze. ”of course,” you coo. ”you’re the prettiest.”

suguru can’t bite back the soft grin that blooms on his lips, and he wonders if you notice the red hue crawling up his neck — faint, but awfully telling. to distract you from it, recognizing a glint of familiar mischief in your eyes, he reaches a hand out to pull your cheek. gently, not enough to hurt you.

the little wince that escapes you tugs at his heartstrings, though, even though he knows you’re just being dramatic to make him feel bad. he can only hope the teasing smile he sends your way will be enough to fluster you, his eyes smoothed over with a deep sincerity.

”you’re one to talk.”

it takes a second or two for his words to sink in. and he can pinpoint the exact instant that they do, from the way you avert your gaze, swiftly, face heating up adorably. suguru stifles a coo.

a little huff leaves your lips, vaguely embarrassed — muttering something unintelligible under your breath. you let go of his hand and take a couple long steps forward, to avoid his teasing gaze. 

suguru follows behind, dutifully, with a fond chuckle. it scatters away in the spring breeze, dancing up into the blue of the sky, caressing the morning glory in his hair.

he takes your hand in his, once more. 

you don’t let go.

#challenging myself by writing drabbles that dont turn into 10k fics #youve heard of the babygirlification of satoru gojo well get ready for the babygirlification of suguru geto #soft sugu my beloved !! <333 hes so dreamy. so bf coded. my pretty princess . #he is so….. acts of service. words of affirmation . do u see my vision #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk fluff #geto fluff

[bakuliwrites]

Day One- Gale of Waterdeep

500 Follower Event, 30 Day Writing Prompts Prompt: Relic, Tender, Petrichor, Gale (BG3) Pairing: Gale x Reader Tags: Fluff, Kisses, Cuddling, Slightly Suggestive, Gale Route Spoilers, BG3 Spoilers Word Count: 741

Gale’s dark eyes sweep languidly across the page, no doubt committing to memory the poetic verses written within. You watch from the doorway, comfortably warm in the threshold between cozy library and chilly balcony, a mug of tea slowly cooling in your hands. It brings joy to your heart to see Gale this relaxed. He’s reclined in a loveseat, dressed in his usual soft sleeping clothes and donning a pair of new slippers. The book he’s absorbed in is tome-like in appearance: leather-bound, some sort of ancient relic etched in gold leaf on the cover, a hefty clasp hanging loosely on the edges. You smile to yourself as Gale cautiously turns an onion-skin page, brows furrowed in concentration as he scans the next verse. 

With a small sigh, you lean against the doorframe, looking out to the churning sea beyond. There is something deeply nourishing about your days in Waterdeep. Perhaps it’s the way light rushes across the surface of the sea on clear days, sun glinting brilliantly in the sky, seagulls calling out to one another on the drifting ocean breeze. Maybe it’s the twinkling stars mirrored on the water at night, waves crashing gently to shore and the world silent as can be. It could be the hustle and bustle of the town around you, the familiar sounds of a peaceful life you’d almost forgotten in your adventuring days. Or perhaps it’s the unwavering gentility, the steadfast adoration of the wizard before you. 

Gale catches you staring, the corners of his eyes crinkling with delight at the sight of you. 

“Care to join me?” his voice breaks through your silent musing, eyes softening when you meet his gaze, “Books are always better with company.” 

“Of course,” you return, for how could you refuse such an invitation? You abandon your mug on the coffee table, shivering when a gust of wind brushes through the balcony. With it comes a pleasant whiff of petrichor and brine, a scent you’ll probably forever associate this tranquil afternoon with. 

“Darling, you’re freezing,” Gale worries, shifting in his spot to give you room to lay next to him. The loveseat is hardly big enough for two, but all the more reason to cuddle, you think to yourself. And that was most certainly Gale’s plan, for as soon as you sit down, he draws you into his warm embrace. He’s quick to take one of your freezing hands in his, drawing it to his lips and pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles. He warms it with his breath before sneaking in another kiss to your palm.

“Better?” he ventures, a gentle beam breaking through the gloomy grey of the afternoon. 

“Much,” you softly chuckle, letting your forehead rest against his. This moment is suspended in time, the balcony suddenly a realm of its own. Beyond the soft sound of Gale’s exhales, you can hear a drizzle of rain pitter-pattering on the rooftop, droplets bouncing off the railing and landing in tiny ripples on the water’s surface below. Gale holds your hand to his chest, his other arm drawing you close. Beneath your fingertips is the velvety texture of his shirt, the gentle thrum of his heart. This is nourishment in its purest form: Gale Dekarios, his love silently enveloping you, body and soul. 

You angle yourself to better reach his lips, pressing a tender kiss to them, lingering for a long while. Gale’s tongue softly traces the part in your lips as your fingers tangle in his hair. He moves to press tiny kiss after kiss against your cheeks, eyelids, and jawline. 

“Hmmm,” you hum, when he dips to give some much needed attention to your neck, “You can keep reading if you’d like. I don’t want to interrupt you.”

Gale’s book is long abandoned somewhere on the loveseat. You suspect he might be sitting on it, far too engrossed in you to pay attention to the tome digging into his leg. 

A small chuckle reverberates through Gale’s chest when you inadvertently gasp, his lips ghosting down to your collarbone.

“You’ve well and thoroughly distracted me, my darling,” he admits, “I’d much rather you be the subject of my studies this dreary afternoon.”

“Then you are easily distractible,” you return with an impish smirk. Gale quirks an eyebrow at you.

“Or is it that you and your irresistible charm are incredibly distracting?” he teasingly returns, laughing as he pulls you closer and lays his lips to yours once again.

A/N: I adore Gale. Honestly, I adore all of the companions in BG3. And many of the NPC's haha. I want to write more for him, so maybe a fic in the future? Time permitting, of course. Thank you for reading! Up next in this event will be Portia Devorak from The Arcana!

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 spoilers #gale spoilers #gale x tav #gale x reader #my writing #drabble #fluff #one shot #500 follower event #30 day challenge #slightly suggestive #life is better when you're snuggling with a wizard

[novasintheroom]

Smell is one of Vash’s favorite senses.

It wasn’t before he met you. Before you, smells were just smells. The hot air of the desert, the metallic tang of bullets too close, B.O. in a bar, the smell of the day’s stew being boiled in the back. All information telling him a million different things. Some of them he even likes! Especially donuts.

But then you come along and you rub your hands with apple scented lotion, you spray yourself with rose water, your breath is minty fresh and you smell clean. He hadn’t realized how much he missed the smell of cleanliness ‘til he travelled with you. He only smells cleanliness when visiting Home – and you’re becoming a second home to him. It’s hard to stay clean out in the wastes, he knows better than most. He appreciates what you put into your cleanliness so much.

He gets into the habit of looking for lotions or body sprays you (and he) would like. You complain once that you’re nearly out of your lotion, and the next day a new bottle is sitting on your bag, because he keeps emergency bottles just for cases like this. He starts smelling his own clothes, trying to not bother you with any sweat smells (though he’s been told that he only ever smells fresh, which must have something to do with his Plant DNA). He becomes so much more aware of scent after you.

And when you aren’t travelling together, when you must go your own ways for a day, or a month, or a year, he looks for you through scents. A whiff of apples will bring back memories of your soft hands and bright grin. Roses are subtle and remind him of the jokes you’d say to get him smiling after being run out of town. He buys these things now and uses them every once in a while when he’s feeling lonely.

Vash always waits for the day when roses and apples will come back into his life, and you always do.

#this was done so quickly lmao #i wonder if i challenge myself to keep it under 100 words what would come out?? #i may have to try that tomorrow #trigun #trigun stampede #vash the stampede #tristamp #vash the stampede x reader #vash x reader #nova writes #drabble

[scarredlove]

Last Line Challenge-

Rules:

In a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or however many as you like).

I am grateful for the tag @spadillelicious!! Sorry for such a late response

Something I'm currently been working on is something my brain was cooking as I worked- Note to self: Don't be unsupervised lol

Last Line:

"If the money isn't collected by tomorrow, then I suggest you go to church." You begin, looking over to him with ice. "Maybe your God will show you some mercy... Because my boys won't."

Last Art:

Please know these aren't final~

@certified-handler @pr0ng3ls @mamajebbun @sammehshark @clxckwork-sun-n-moon

#word chain #tagging game #last line challenge #last line tag #spadillelicious #thanks for the tag! #sorry for late reply! #scar rambles #post #scarredlove #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf dca #fnaf au #dca au #dca fandom #fnaf moon #fnaf sun #mafia au #myart #my art #scar drabbles #scar writes #sun #moon #aubade #vesper #fnaf oc #fnaf fc #sun x you #moon x you

[gimmethatagustd]

oxygen | jjk

If you get caught, you'll both die. Jungkook wants to be yours anyway.

○ Pairing: Mafia!Jungkook x f!Reader

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Mafia, established relationship, angst, smut

○ 9 / 100 Drabble Challenge (Mafia)

○ Word Count: 2,053

○ Warnings: Organized crime, toxic relationship, emotional manipulation, infidelity (MC's boyfriend is Yoongi *gasp*), MC is actually kind of sick in the head lowkey lmfaooo, marijuana (is it a jai fic if weed isn't at least mentioned?), casual conversation about being murdered, dom!reader, sub!Jungkook, gunplay, consensual sex while under the influence of alcohol, unprotected vaginal sex, orgasm control, hair pulling, rough sex, pain kink

○Notes: I was never here. I repeat, I WAS NEVER HERE.

○ Post Date: February 13, 2024

○ Masterlist |

○ What was Jai listening to? Oxygen - Jackson Wang

“I fucking hate you.”

Jungkook tastes blood as he watches you stumble up the marble stairs, break-ankle stilettos grating into the stone like his molars grate against each other when he chews the inside of his cheek.

It takes three steps before you give up, bending to slip your finger under the thin black strap that hugs each ankle to keep the red bottoms in place. Off-balanced from holding your leather jacket balled up under one arm, you teeter on one foot, and Jungkook has to fight the urge to grab your waist.

Air rushes out of Jungkook’s nostrils, a scoff that mixes with the wind. It’s one of the last days of summer before autumn cuts the nights short and chills the air. If Jungkook could have his way, he would be sitting out on his balcony right now with a fat blunt and his phone on silent.

Instead, he’s dealing with you.

“Are you just gonna stand there, or are you gonna fucking help me?” you snap, words slurring together when you pout through them.

Jungkook tongues the inside of his cheek where he’s bitten into the fleshy skin. The metallic flavor mixes oddly with the aftertaste of his half-smoked blunt from earlier.

“Thought you said you hate me,” Jungkook sucks his teeth, tattooed fingers squeezing your bicep to steady you while you unclasp your shoes.

“I do.”

“Hmm.” Jungkook exchanges a grip on your arm for the heels, black and deadly like the Glock clipped to his waist.

Your dress rides up far enough that your asscheeks are exposed when you bend down again, your skimpy black thong doing nothing to cover you. The sheer pair is one Yoongi bought you for Valentine’s Day last year. Yoongi hadn’t batted an eye when he dropped thousands of dollars on a lingerie set that he isn’t even patient enough to appreciate on your body before he rips it off.

Not Jungkook, though. Jungkook is patient.

“Carry me,” you whine, pushing up against Jungkook’s side, nimble fingers wrapping around his wrist and tugging.

Jungkook knows not to look up at the columned overhang, but the many cameras lining the mansion's exterior weigh heavily on him as he helps you up the stairs to the front door.

“I can’t,” Jungkook grits his molars, jaw flexing beneath taunt skin, “And you know that.”

The keypad at the front door unlocks with Jungkook’s thumbprint. Inside, the foyer is dark. It’s nearly four in the morning, and the rest of the guards are either monitoring the cameras or asleep. They’re all lower-level and easily bend to Jungkook’s will, meaning none of them will rat you out for slipping off in the dead of night to go party with your friends despite being under strict orders not to leave the house until Yoongi returns from his business trip.

As second-in-command, Jungkook should be in Japan with Yoongi, handling what will likely be one of the largest arms deals in Bangtan’s history. But Yoongi is paranoid, and paranoid men don’t leave their girlfriends with just anyone. Especially when their girlfriends are trouble.

And you? You’re trouble in a tight little black dress, hips swaying as you walk with new purpose through the foyer, your leather jacket thrown on the floor for Jungkook to pick up as he trails behind you — always trailing, following just a half step behind you, only in front when he puts his life on the line over yours. And he does, has the scars on his body to prove it, scars you like to bite to remind him of everything he’s willing to lose for Yoongi. For you.

There are only three types of rooms in the house that don’t have cameras installed: bedrooms, bathrooms, and arms rooms. You like to have Jungkook fuck you in all of them.

Tonight, it’s one of the basement-level arms rooms, the one Yoongi likes to use for entertainment because there’s a full bar and a conference table typically littered with guns, drugs, and money.

And sometimes, if Yoongi is in a shitty mood, girls.

You don’t care what Yoongi does, though it wouldn’t matter even if you did. As Bangtan’s leader, there’s no room for criticism of the boss — unless someone wants to lose a limb or their life, and Yoongi is known to be trigger-happy.

You learned that from him.

Jungkook lets out a shuddered breath as you drag the muzzle of his gun from the middle of his sternum down his abdomen. The metal is cold, and you move slowly, taking your time over every hill and valley of his muscles, painting goosebumps across his skin until you reach the waistband of his underwear.

The chamber is empty, but it still makes Jungkook’s heart jump in his throat when you press the gun against his clothed cock.

“Yoongi is going to kill us one day,” you whisper, rolling your bottom lip between your teeth to bite back a smile.

Jungkook leans back with his elbows against the table where you’ve sat him at one of the chairs. You’re in your heels again. Jungkook loves it when you stand over him, a powerful force far too often squandered by Yoongi’s overbearing leadership and desire to be the most feared person in the room. It’s one of Yoongi’s greatest mistakes.

You’re gorgeous, stripped down until all you’re wearing is another man’s Valentine’s Day gift, your own body a present Jungkook has the unholy pleasure of opening again and again — but only after you’ve opened him up, gutted him like a fish.

Or blown him open, a bullet bursting like shrapnel to cut him from the inside out. Jungkook would let you do it.

Jungkook stares up at you with innocent eyes that tell nothing of the secret horrors his hands have done, of the horrors he has endured and inflicted upon others. He stares up at you with innocent eyes and his lips wrapped around the muzzle of his gun that you hold with your finger on the trigger.

“Bang, bang,” you giggle as the gun clicks, and Jungkook lets you slide it further into his mouth, the tangy taste too similar to blood and nothing he hasn’t tasted before.

Maybe it’s fear that makes Jungkook crave you. Maybe Jungkook has a death wish. Maybe Jungkook likes the idea of you being his lifeline, the sole decider of whether he lives or dies. All it would take is one tiny confession twisted into a lie, and you could convince Yoongi that Jungkook came onto you and tried to seduce you.

Jungkook knows Yoongi would enjoy making him suffer if he thought Jungkook was treating you unkindly. Yoongi would enjoy violently murdering Jungkook even more if he knew just how good Jungkook treated you.

You don’t pull the gun back until Jungkook gags. Tears collect along his eyelashes, but he blinks them away as you toss his gun onto the table.

“You’d let him kill you.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook’s voice is hoarse from the gun, and it cracks when you sit on the table in front of him and spread your legs. “I would.”

“You’re fucking stupid.”

“So are you.”

Jungkook’s cock throbs as he watches you slip your thong down your legs. You drag his spit-slicked gun along your dripping pussy, parting your folds and getting the muzzle shiny with your arousal. When his eyes flit up to meet yours, you let out a broken moan, tongue slipping out to lick your bottom lip.

“Come here,” you beckon, the curl of your finger tugging Jungkook forward like a red string tied in a noose around his neck. He fits perfectly between your thighs, his clothed cock pressing against your exposed pussy.

“Can I kiss you?” Jungkook whispers against your lips. His body crowds yours, forcing you to tip your head back to look into his pretty doe eyes.

“Be a good boy and clean this up first,” you say as you hold up the gun in front of Jungkook’s face.

Jungkook doesn’t look away as he licks a stripe up the length of the gun’s muzzle, too turned on by how intensely you watch him lick and suck your juices off it. How eagerly he bends to your will is pathetic, but he doesn’t care.

When you toss his gun away to dig your nails in his hair and tug him into a bruising kiss, Jungkook feels like he can finally breathe.

You taste sweet, like whatever fruity cocktails you’d been drinking with your friends. Jungkook sucks your tongue, and he feels the vibration of your moans go straight to his leaking cock.

“Fuck me,” you moan with nails in his back, “And make it hurt.”

Jungkook helps you off the table to bend you over it. He may prefer sex that is slow and face-to-face, but Yoongi is coming home in a few hours, and sometimes, you like to punish yourself by denying yourself the sweet, sensual care that Jungkook prefers to give you. Sometimes you like it dirty and fast like this, Jungkook fucking into you with your wrists behind your back and your face pressed into the conference table’s cold, sleek surface.

You look forward to the tender bruise you’ll have on the apple of your cheek and against your hips from where Jungkook fucks you hard enough that you slam into the edge of the table. It’s a gamble, wondering if this will be the time Yoongi finally notices.

Sometimes Jungkook wonders if Yoongi already has noticed, and he’s just biding his time, waiting for the opportune moment to kill you both.

“Fuck, jagi,” Jungkook moans. The table squeaks and grunts as the force of Jungkook fucking you pushes the table back and forth across the floor.

“Do I feel good, baby?” you gasp, twisting your hands in Jungkook’s so you can wrap your fingers around his wrist, too, to have something to hold onto.

“So good,” Jungkook whimpers, tightening his grip on your wrists. “Can I cum? Please?”

Your skin is probably chafing from how hard you’re being bounced against the table, but all you do is moan and clench around Jungkook’s cock, taunting him.

“Jagi, please,” Jungkook begs, hips faltering slightly. You’re so wet and creamy. There’s something about fucking you in the arms room that always makes you feel and sound better.

“You wanna cum? Baby boy wants to cum?”

“Wanna cum so bad, you feel so, fuck, so, so good.”

Jungkook lets go of your wrists to dig his fingers into your hips and pull you onto his cock with each thrust. You lift off the table slightly so he can wrap one arm around your waist and slip his fingers through your folds, playing with your clit as he fucks you. He knows he needs to make you cum first before you’ll let him.

"Just like that, you're doing so well," you pant, pussy clenching and pulsing around Jungkook's cock so hotly that he knows you're going to cum soon.

Luckily, it doesn’t take long. Jungkook has you so worked up that you cum once he pinches your clit, rolling it between his fingers while you writhe and squirm on his cock, whimpering his name.

“Come on, baby,” you moan, “Cum for me, now.”

Tilting your head up, you let Jungkook kiss you. He squeezes his eyes shut as he cums inside you, mouth hanging open and completely useless to kiss, so you press light kisses along his sweaty throat instead.

“Thank you,” Jungkook whispers once his body has calmed down, gently easing out of you. His hands shake as he collapses into the chair and pulls you into his lap.

You kiss him properly this time, sliding your hands through his sweaty hair. He’s pussy-drunk, fucked dumb, nothing but static in his head as your lips glide with his. He could stay like this, pliant like clay in your hands, let you mold him into whatever you want him to be. Let you make or break him. Jungkook doesn’t care.

“Tell me you love me,” you demand, nails sharp against Jungkook’s scalp.

“Jagi,” Jungkook whimpers when you pull his hair, “I love you so much. I love you more than anything.”

“More than yourself?”

“More than myself.”

You hum into the next kiss, and Jungkook feels his body melt. 

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. 

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here. 

#jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #bts smut #bts angst #bts fanfic #100 drabble challenge #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #oxygen

[penvisions]

once more with feeling {frankie drabble}

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Reader

Warnings: flirting with a stranger, language, kissing, suggestive language

A/N: this was a fun little drabble for the fic title prompt game submitted by the lovely @burntheedges

drabble masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

It started off as a chance encounter at the convenience store. Picking up a prescription and a bag of sour gummy candies. But of course your wallet hadn’t been inside the chaos of your purse. The cards hadn’t been rattling around amid the pens, gum wrappers, scraps of paper with lists, or the lighter that had somehow ended up in there either.

“Shit.”

The cashier rolls her eyes, popping a large bubble she had just blown out from the wad of gum in her mouth. An arched brow her silent judgement.

“I don’t have my wallet.”

“Okay.” She begins to slid the items away before a figure closed in on your right side.

“I’ll cover it,” A deep voice rumbled and you turned to meet a pair of startlingly wide brown eyes. They were set in the face of a handsome man. Your own roved over him, from the patchy scruff lining his jaw, the plush set of lips set under a thick moustache, the curls tamped down and curling around a cap tight over his head, the aviators slung in the collar of his grey t-shirt. But what really stole your breath away was the toothy grin he was flashing at you as he set down the items in his arms and reached to retrieve his worn wallet from a back pocket. “Gummies are an essential, can’t let ya go without them.”

Another bubble popping startled you, making you realize you hadn’t said anything in response. With a chuckle the man was gently corralling you away from the debit machine, a card between his thick fingers. He swiped it, nodding his head to the cashier as she held out two different plastic bags for the man to take.

“Thank you, that was very kind of you-“

“Fransisco, but Frankie is just fine.” He held out a hand, the bag with your items in it. You took it as you walked along side him out the sliding doors. You offered your name along with a thankful smile. All too aware of the large hoodie you had thrown on over a pair of shorts in your rush out the door. You only lived across the street, but of course you would run into a stunning man on your put off and then rushed errand.

“No problem at all.” He didn’t move toward the parking lot and neither did you, both rooted close enough to catch the scent of each other’s perfume and cologne. You could feel his eyes watch you as you tore into the bag of gummies, twin cherries. You held the open bag out to him as you brough one up to your lips. He smirked as he brought one to his own mouth.

“Cherries, that your thing? Cause you smell like ‘em and I bet you taste like ‘em too, now.” An eyebrow raised, though it was anything but a judgment like it had been on the cashier’s face. It was a flirty challenge and you couldn’t help the pull of your lips to match his energy.

“I dunno, why don’t you find out?” You swallowed, the candy sweet on your tongue and tangy. Your breath hitched, betraying your nerves as he reached a hand out to gently hold the back of your head and pull you toward him. His lips were plush against yours, so soft and faintly flavored from the candy. He didn’t try to push it past a chaste connection, pulling back after a few seconds.

“Mmm, seems like I need to do a little more research.”

“Seems like you do.” The flimsy handles of the bag slid down to the crook of your elbow as you reached up to cup his face. Leaning in, you kisses him with more intention. Allowing for him to lick into your mouth, licking the flavor from you as if he was starving and it was hist first taste of food in a long while.

You hummed, pulling him closer to feel the front of his body pressed up against your own, his hands going around the small of your back. Pleasure pooled in your middle, lighting you up as you stood in front of the convenient store and shared kisses with a beautiful stranger.

Sharing a breath, his fingers twitched around you as your lashes fluttered. His eyes were already watching when you opened them back up.

“Cherries were always my favorite.” He kissed you again and somehow you knew it would lead to a cherry frosted cake and the sharing of vows.

#dev writes #drabble #fic titles #prompt challenge #writing exercise #writing game #frankie morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fic #frankie morales fanfic #frankie morales fanfiction

[starrystevie]

this is all @wynnyfryd's fault. inspired by my own post of complaining about work.

"rough day?"

steve can't help it, okay? every time that eddie rounds the corner to the in house coffee shop with those sad brown eyes and slumped shoulders, he can't just not intervene.

eddie perks up slightly, bringing his gaze from the floor up to steve's face peering from behind the espresso maker, and his frown worsens. "you could say that."

he sounds pitiful, really he does, and it could all be an overexaggerated act but it still tugs at steve's heartstrings none the less. eddie's suit doesn't fit him, the off white theming of the hotel doesn't fit him, the fake smile he puts on for the stuck up customers doesn't fit him. how eddie ended up in the luxury hotel world, steve will never know, but the one thing he does know is-

"could a cookie make it better?"

- that eddie's eyes lighting up at the promise of a warm chocolate chip cookie makes the monotony of being in a dead end job worth it. eddie gives him a smile somewhere between watery and strained that steve takes like a punch to the heart and already has the tongs out before he gets an answer.

"i'm just feeling run down," eddie starts, the ambient coffee shop soundtrack drowned out by the convection oven whirring to life on the counter. "my whole day has been one thing after another, running into red tape and things that i can't finish and it's just ugh!"

there's a thud. steve turns around to check that his famous chocolate chip cookies aren't burning to a crisp in the warmer for one second and eddie is already throwing his head onto the counter. steve has an arm out to pull him up by the hair before he can tell himself not to. instead of giving into that thought, he slides it across the counter so when eddie picks his head up and attempts to slam it down once more, it at least has a softer cushion than granite.

"hey, quit that," he tuts out and eddie goes from bonking his head on the back of steve's hand to turning it so his cheek is resting on it instead. his big brown eyes are peering up at him at an awkward angle and his cheeks are flushed from weird blood flow and yet he's still somehow the most beautiful customer steve has ever had at his counter.

"i just don't think this job is right for me anymore, y'know?" eddie's voice is a little muffled from where the side of his face is smooshed on steve's hand and it breaks his heart in the process. with his free hand, steve turns ever so gently to grab the cookie from the oven with his tongs, plops it onto a plate on the counter and slides it in front of eddie's face.

"i think if anyone could understand not being the right fit for your job, it'd be me.

he doesn't get an answer in the verbal sense. what he gets is a kiss on the back of the hand that sparks like lighting against his skin. eddie is still slumped over on the counter, his back curled over like an uncomfortable shrimp, but he has a glimmer of something in his eyes that makes steve feel as warm as the cookie on the counter.

"thanks for the cookie," eddie mutters and steve would be lying if he said his blush didn't match the one creeping up eddie's neck. "i'll see you tomorrow?"

"yeah," he breathes back. "hopefully when neither of us need cookies to feel better."

eddie unfurls, standing up straight and taking a bite of the cookie that leaves a dab of chocolate on his lip. he swipes at it with his finger and rubs it on his too nice pants and walks away, giving steve a bashful wink over his shoulder. "it's not the cookie that makes me feel better, stevie."

#could i write a whole fic on this? yes #do i still need to finish my fics for the spring challenge and start my bb and all the other fics i have going on? also yes #steddie #steddie headcanon #my writing #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 18: protecting

Masterlist flufftober 🎀

Reblog if you liked it!

“Are you okay with this?” Spencer asked, as he was about to walk through the door into the interrogation room.

You had captured the main suspect in a series of murders and Hotch gave Reid the task of interrogating him, but part of the plan was that after he asked some questions you would accompany him since you fit perfectly into victimology. If the man behind the glass was actually guilty, you were in the presence of a narcissistic and misogynistic criminal of the worst kind, violent enough to murder a woman in a matter of seconds if she didn't show interest, and that's why he wanted to make sure you were comfortable with that part of the plan.

“Yes, Reid. Everything is fine” to be honest, that answer wasn’t what you wanted to give him, but the case had given you so much headache in the last few days that all you wanted was for it to end, and if the only way to do it was to use yourself as bait, you were ready for it.

The man nodded and then opened the door to enter the room. He asked some questions to the detainee, who had asked not to be handcuffed as a condition for answering, and at one point your partner looked into the mirror to give you the signal.

Ted, that was the unsub's name, tensed up when he saw you enter and was quiet for a second, taking in your entire appearance before speaking again. The look completely sickened you, but you had to stop yourself and Spencer pulled out a chair so you could sit.

“This is my partner, Agent Y/L/N.”

"Agent? I thought a cupcake like this would be your secretary,” he whispered, reaching out to take your hand on the table. You were about to remove it when Spencer stepped forward to gently take it and lower it into your lap, removing it from the criminal's reach as he watched him seriously.

“She's here to watch you, nothing more. Let's continue with the questions."

The agent continued talking to get as much information as possible and you remained as composed as possible, avoiding doing anything that would contribute to his fantasy. But every time Ted deigned to answer he did so without taking his eyes off you and Spencer noticed your stiffness as the minutes passed, so he lowered one of his hands to your knee to squeeze it, as if he were trying to tell you silently that he was there for you.

His big, loving hand calmed you just a little, but that was better than nothing. But what little calm you could have was replaced by a bad feeling when you heard that disgusting man's voice.

“Have you seen the photos of those women?”

That was the second time he spoke specifically towards you and it made you look at him, noticing that he had a satisfied face that made you shiver.

“I am asking the questions”

“They were just like you…” he continued, ignoring your partner's words “Poor girls, they look so helpless and bruised. The man who did that to her definitely made them suffer. If I were you, I wouldn't walk around alone.”

“Mr. Sanders, you are here to answer questions, not to chat.”

“It's okay, Reid,” you murmured. The unsub wanted to talk and thanks to the profile you knew that the more involved you got, the more he would say, so you accepted the responsibility of pushing him away so that he would give you a confession: “If I'm honest, I'm not afraid, not of you or anyone. And I don't even believe that you killed those women”

Although Ted appeared calm, the slight movement of his eyebrows made you realize that being questioned by a woman was irritating him, but he wouldn't give in.

“Then why are you questioning me if you're so sure it wasn't me?”

“A simple suspect elimination procedure,” you responded, shrugging your shoulders. “If you're not handcuffed, it's not because you asked for it, but because you're not a danger. You’ve never done anything meaningful with your life, why would this time be any different?”

It was obvious that your words resonated with him and so you looked at Spencer to get his approval of your actions or a sign for you to stop. Luckily, you got the first one.

“And who are you to talk? You're just a little bitch that was sent here as a bad attempt to trick me”

“And even then, you won’t achieve in your life even half of the things that I have done”

“I highly doubt it,” he laughed.

You suddenly remembered an important characteristic that you had included in the profile and you thought that perhaps a woman hurting his ego would be the straw that broke the camel's back and finally spilled his guilt. It could also result in him attacking you, but it would be worth a try.

"Poor thing, who are you trying to fool?” you scoffed, leaning across the table in his direction until you only needed to whisper, “You can't even get a decent erection.”

Although you imagined it, you definitely didn't expect that man to lunge at you and grab your neck tightly in response to your provocation. He was extremely strong and that's why he managed to push you to the wall, where he lifted you a couple of centimeters off the floor while you kicked.

Fortunately he held you for only a few seconds, because right after Spencer had already lunged at him to free you. You never believed that your friend had the strength to push a grown, muscular man against the space next to you on the wall and not only that, but to bring him back to the table to subdue him with his chest against it and his arms in the back. You didn't even know when he had time to draw his revolver, which was already placed firmly against the detainee's temple.

You were struggling to catch your breath, but even with your blurred vision you managed to register your partner's expression. He was brimming with anger, like you had never seen before.

“If you touch her again, I'm going to put a hole in your head, do you understand?”

Amid the commotion you saw the security guards and Agent Morgan quickly enter the room to help restrain Ted, now placing a necessary pair of handcuffs on his wrists.

“You're going to die, whore,” he growled at you, wanting to break free to attack you again. Your friend just roughly pushed him outside, ready to guide him to a cell inside the police station where he would stay until you guys figured something out.

With just two jumps Spencer was already in front of you and you felt that he was shaking when his hands went up to your face to lift it a little so he could check your neck, although you didn't know if he was shaking from anger or fear.

“Oh my God, are you okay?” his tone of voice had softened compared to the tone he had used with Ted and that made you feel a little safer.

“I… I think so.”

“That damn son of a bitch,” you heard him whisper between his teeth, taking the time to check every inch of your skin. Once he was satisfied, he looked you straight in the eyes and realized that you were crying “No, no, pretty…”

You didn't even know why you were shedding tears, it was probably just from the shock of what had just happened, but your friend's hug felt like a wonderful comfort.

“I didn't mean to get in the way of this, I swear.”

“Don’t say that,” he asked in a serious voice, pulling you closer. “Thanks to you we now have a reason to keep him here, and when we have enough evidence, we will give that monster what he deserves and we will lock him up for life. I will take care of it myself if necessary.”

There was a different kind of hatred in his words, something you had rarely seen towards an unsub: it was a personal and strong feeling.

“Thank you for defending me”

"Are you kidding?" he murmured almost offended, while he separated from you to observe you “We are a team and I will never let anyone lay a finger on you, do you understand me? Nobody. Never"

After that he held you against him again and then you could cry freely, sheltered by his warm and wide body. When had he become so strong? You didn't know it, but you were grateful that a man like him was taking care of you.

And as he comforted you, he realized that the promise he had just made to you wasn't empty, like many people make, because Spencer knew that he would be able to face his worst fears if you were in danger. He had done it this time and he would do it as many times as necessary to keep you completely safe.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @vivian-555 @r-3dlips @rhiannonhippiegirl @taygrls @simp4f1 @sdddoobydoobydoo @taintedstranger

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x you #flufftober 2023 #prompt list #writing challenge #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble

[whumpster-dumpster]

100 Drabble Challenge: Whump Edition

The Challenge: write a hundred drabbles, exactly 100 words each, for a hundred brief prompts! I’ve seen some of these floating around but not one specifically whump-themed. As such, I’m doing my duty!

Ache

Burn

Cut

Darkness

Faint

Cough

Stranded

Weak

Temperature

Stumble

Chains

Slap

Hunger

Thirst

Tremble

Sob

Hide

Knife

Mockery

Revenge

Gag

Strangle

Pet

Bedridden

Hallucination

Distrust

Ensnare

Blindfold

Sore

Fall

Pinned

Ransom

Escape

Comatose

Shock

Tissues

Bath

Retch

Exposed

Swollen

Bitterness

Left Behind

Shove

Hoarse

Whip

Sweat

Band-Aid

Punishment

Worry

Lies

Bite

Rage

Blurry Vision

Crutches

Stress

Heat

Infection

Dragged

False Smile

Car Trunk

Grudge

Breakdown

Wheeze

Shot

Unsteady

Bedside Manner

Cage

Whimper

Scratch

Threat

Toss and Turn

Lonely

Vertigo

Pale

Buried

Overload

Argument

Painkillers

Pressure

Therapy

Glazed Eyes

Vigil

Cornered

Thrash

Dangling

Gone Wrong

Overworked

Scars

Oxygen

Cold Floor

Tearstains

Terror

Impossible Choice

ER

Bruises

Forced to Watch

Bloodshot

Defiance

Broken

Loss

#whump #whump prompt #whump prompts #writing prompt #writing prompts #100 drabble challenge #prompt list #long post

[4e7her]

october writing prompt #17 - "i would do unspeakable things for you.”

-

character: jade leech, twst

contains: yandere themes, gn reader

"I would do unspeakable things for you."

"What?"

Oh. Oops. He really had to watch what he muttered under his breath better - at least around you.

"Would you like to try the Monstro Lounge's newest drink? We're offering a free slice of a cake of your choosing with every purchase."

There we are.

It wasn't the deal they were really offering, but for you, he'd cover it. The real thing was supposed to just be half-off on the dessert item, but for the chance to learn your favorite, he'd pay any cost.

Or, well, besides get Azul or Floyd's attention on you.

He had shared everything in his life with them. You, however, he was not willing to share. Not in any capacity. Getting their eyes away from you was something he put the upmost importance in, despite the many lies he had to weave to do it. He knew he might have to let them know a little bit when he eventually decided to start seriously pursuing you, but for now, he would be happy with just watching. Learning.

It was getting a bit difficult to find first years to trap into quietly taking his shifts so he could go and... study you, but it wasn't impossible.

Taking note of your choice, he sent you a smile with just a bit more behind it, and went to go put in the request. If he physically wrote it down on a scrap of paper and stuffed it in his pocket to add to his journal about you later, then who was there to notice?

-

[click here to go to masterlist.]

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst wonderland #gender neutral reader #gender neutral post #yandere #aether's drabbles #yandere content #twst x gender neutral reader #twst x reader #twstober #october writing challenge #yandere jade x reader #yandere jade leech #jade leech x reader #twst jade #jade leech #twst octavinelle #yandere twst

[amouress16]

Azurido Challenge Day 5: Childhood (aka Visiting Your Home, part one)

As Azul walks down the hall, he notices the many photos hung on the wall, starkly contrasting with the almost shiny looking wallpaper. It was impossible not to notice them, massive things almost as tall as the boy leading him through the space. They're family photos, he can tell right off. Each appear to be taken about a year apart, by the look of the child who grows up little by little between each image. It's on the sixth one he notices a shift, tension and unhappy faces. And in the next picture, as well as all the subsequent ones after, the ginger haired man is missing. ...suddenly it makes sense why Riddle never speaks of his father. What a thing to have in common, he thinks.

#twisted wonderland #twst #azurido #Azurid Challenge 2024 #azul ashengrotto #riddle rosehearts #twst azul #twst riddle #my art #fanart #digital art #artists on tumblr #I enjoy writing these little drabbles to add context to the art :3 makes me miss when I used to write fic