#;fanfic

[phantombmoll]

Greg x Reader - A little appetiser Summary - Greg's messed up, your teasing is justified but he still gets cocky. Rating T/M - Mature themes, sexiness but no explicitness Author Note; There was no prompt for this I just really like writing domestic Greg all happy and in love.

"Your arse in that dress is sinful." Greg pressed close as he passed by watching you as you pulled the wineglasses out of the dishwasher.

"Well don't get any ideas because your friends will be here soon." You could feel his eyes on you as you straightened up and it would be a lie to say you hadn't chosen the dress for the purposes of torturing him. He deserved it though. He was the one who'd invited everyone round after too many beers the week before and then he was the one who'd offered to cook, then had to stay late at work leaving everything to you.

"They're your friends too." Greg said his lips pressing gentle kisses with intent along your neck his arms sliding around your waist. You loved him and warmth radiated through you, the delicious slow burn of arousal starting low in your belly.

You weren't going to give in to him though.

"Hmm but I didn't invite them round-" You replied as Greg persisted at your neck, you stopped the groan about to leave you and tensed your legs to stop them from going to jelly as he hit that spot. "-and I wasn't the one who forgot he'd invited everyone around until someone at work reminded him. I also wasn't the one who promised to cook and then stayed late at work leaving my better half to do all the prep, shopping and organising."

Greg's hands skimmed your shoulders, pausing to slip a finger under your bra strap and admire it. He knew it was his favourite, the one with the lacey trim that fit just right, made your chest look like something from a thoroughly indecent 50's blue movie.

"I did apologise about that." Greg said against your shoulder. "And I get the feeling you might be getting your own back." His hands skimmed over your waist and started to scrunch the base of the dress, letting out a groan when his fingers found the top of the suspenders. "You're definitely punishing me."

"I don't know what you're talking about, I simply got ready for the dinner you organised and now I'm trying to carry on with the prep." You turned into his arms before pushing past him, heading for the stove. You dipped the tip of a teaspoon into the pan and tasted it to check then turned it down to a low simmer.

"I really am sorry." Greg said sliding his hands back around your waist. You turned into him, allowing him to kiss you. His lips soft and warm and wanting. The pressure seemed to slip straight between your thighs and if you carried on the battle would be lost. You'd give into him easily. Greg pushed his luck hooking his hands under your thighs and lifting you onto the counter. His hands slid up your stocking covered thighs and up under your dress.

You groaned, cursing yourself for letting the sound escape and Greg pressed himself between your thighs.

"Let me taste you." He grinned against your lips. "Just a little appetiser."

Fuck.

Your heaving chest is enough of a giveaway that you don't want him to stop. Not really. Especially not when he talks like that and especially when you know how good he is with his mouth.

"You're a very bad man." You say fingers raking the hair at the base of his skull. He moans and grins at you. Sliding his hands further up your thighs, inching the dress up higher. It's tight but the fabric has a stretch that means it gives you some leeway.

"And you are a very bad girl." He says, fingers skimming the dampness of the lacey black knickers he loves so much. Your hips react to him and the grin comes back.

He's cocky.

Too cocky.

"Ready and waiting for-"

BZZZZZ

The door bell buzzes. His head drops to your chest and he makes a noise of disappointment that makes you laugh quietly.

"We could ignore it." He says into your chest.

"You invited them." You say scrunching your hands in the base of his hair again, just the way he likes, knowing it will do nothing to abate his arousal and now he'll have to answer the door with it and have it hanging over him all night. You press on his chest and jump down off the counter adjusting your dress. "Go answer the door." You say pressing a kiss to his cheek and patting his chest.

[rudamaruda520]

me as a writer

[knebellindemann]

[i-used-to-be-a-spy]

"you should be at the club" I should be working on my fanfic

[trekscribbles]

This week, I read a fic that was around 20 years old, which had originally been posted on the author's personal website and which she added to AO3 a few years ago. She listed her email address with the fic, so after I finished reading, I sent her an email saying how much I enjoyed the story, how much I appreciated the work and effort she obviously put into it, and thanked her for uploading it to AO3. She responded the next day and thanked me for my message, then said she had a few more stories in the same series that she hadn't gotten around to uploading. I checked this morning--she added a 35,000 word novella and thanked me in the summary.

👏 comment 👏 on 👏 old 👏 fics 👏

[kyri45]

I didn’t realize you were the person who did the fanfiction tag drinks.

ahah yeah that's meeee!!

They are all available as stickers on my RedBubble shop!

[put-a-keep-are-you-foo-dell]

[mostly-funnytwittertweets]

[mr-something-0r-another]

[shyjusticewarrior]

At some point "fanfic can be as good as professional writing" became "fanfic should be as good as professional writing" and that's caused major damage to fandom spaces.

[phantombmoll]

"You're bleeding." - Maybe reader says it to Greg and then they kiss or something

Greg Lestrade x Reader Warnings: Mentions of injury Tags; Established relationship, mentions of injury, hurt/comfort Author Notes: This doesn't really have a kiss in it, aside from a peck and I'm sorry about that but it's just not the way the inspiration took me. I thought this was cute though and hope you enjoy. None of the gifs are mine and eventually I'd like to try to find more appropriate gifs for the prompt/to make little twofer sets in the post body.

You flexed your toes on the cushion of the sofa, taking a sip of wine as another explosion erupted on the screen. That was at least two broken collarbones and a broken arm.

You enjoyed action movies but your doctor brain couldn't help kicking in as you watched. You knew movie logic applied but still the instinctual part of you kicked in and took note of the injuries and what was and was not survivable.

You heard the door click, a smile crossing your face as you heard Greg calling he was home from the doorway. A familiar grunt escaping him as he kicked his shoes off. You swung your legs off the sofa, getting ready to greet him with a kiss when the television caught your attention again.

"Now that's definitely fatal." You muttered as another fight erupted on the screen.

"What's fatal?" Greg asked. You turned and the smile on your face dropped immediately.

"You're bleeding!" You put the wineglass on the coffee table and rushed over to where he leaned against the sofa. Something clearly wrong with his ribs. On his forehead and cheek were superficial wounds, they looked like a patch had been attempted but one had recently re-split and was bleeding again.

"It's fine." He winced as he tried to brush it off. "Something smells good."

"Don't try to change the subject. You're bleeding and you're hurt. What happened?" You crossed to him eyes darting across his face, inspecting the gash on his head and cheek. The protective edge to your voice made Greg grin.

"Couple of lads on the Dalton estate. We were making an arrest. Uniform was lagging." He said.

"Sit." You instructed, before heading into the kitchen for everything you needed to clean him up. Including pain killers and a stiff drink for him. "Which uniforms?" You ask sitting on the edge of the coffee table and beginning to pull bits of cotton apart to clean up the gash.

"Why, are you going to have a word?" Greg laughed and then winced.

"First of all why aren't you at the hospital."

"Hospital won't do anything for bruised ribs." Greg said and you narrowed your eyes at him. "I cleaned it up, just didn't have time to do a good job with a plaster." He gestured to his head and cheek. "Came off in the car. Besides, maybe I wanted to play a slightly realistic game of Doctor/Patient with my gorgeous other half." He grinned leaning forwards all teeth and cheek. He was looking for a kiss. Hoping to distract you of your concern. Instead you raised a brow at him.

"You're an idiot." You said, but you leaned in to kiss him anyway. Soft, quick, leaving Greg lingering slightly and hoping for more despite his pain.

"This needs at very least butterfly stitches. You should have gone to the hospital Greg." You started to clean the wound.

"I've no concussion, haven't fallen asleep, they won't do anything for ribs and I'm not sitting in A&E for 6 hours when I live with an excellent and very attractive doctor." Greg said.

"I'm getting the stitches, get your shirt off too I want to examine your ribs. If I think you need an x-ray we're going to hospital."

"You just want to get my clothes off." Greg called after you. You heard the grunt of pain as he slipped the shirt of his shoulders. "You know-" He started as you came back through with more supplies. "I was wondering about a hero bandage." He lay down on, already ruined shirt behind his head to protect the cushions from anymore blood. "One like Indiana Jones across here." He said gesturing across his chest. "I've heard the girls love them."

"Firstly those are not a real thing, no matter how good indy looks. Secondly-" You pressed the wound on his head together, it had resumed bleeding now you cleaned it up. You pressed a butterfly stitch onto it and another. "How has no one made sure you went to the hospital and didn't drive home alone?"

"I told them I was fine."

You pressed a final stitch, then set to dressing the wounds before sitting back to look at his chest. There was a bruise in what looked like the shape of a boot starting to form. Your fingers ghosted it lightly and Greg tensed.

"Yeah, a hero bandage definitely guarantees at least a snog."

You knew exactly what he was doing. He was downplaying his injuries because he wanted to laugh them off. He wanted food and a beer and to not think about just how stark a reminder this was of the dangers of the job. You weren't quite ready to laugh it off. Maybe in an hour or two when the dust had settled and you'd play into his want for someone to kiss it better.

"Greg." You said softly, fingers still at the edges of the bruise over his ribs.

"Hey, I'm fine." Greg said taking your hand in his.

"This is not fine." You replied.

"I'm fine." Greg said again more firmly this time. "I'm fine."

He knew what you were thinking, he'd probably thought it himself. It could have been a knife instead of a boot in his side. His job was dangerous and this was a stark reminder.

[fangsandthangs]

When you’re in the middle of a fic and realise you’ve missed a very critical tag

[heartiella]

[tenderwatches]

sometimes you need dialogue tags and don't want to use the same four

[bebx]