#is it still a drabble if it breaks 500 words?

[jomiddlemarch]

fairy lights

There were some customers you knew from a glance that you’d be talking smack about in the break room as soon as they left the building and there were ordinary ones that you forgot immediately. And there were the absolute unicorns like the impossibly hot guy standing in the middle of the aisle holding a box of fairy-lights in his hand like it was an alien artifact, a guy whose hands you noticed were well-made but sort of rough, like he worked in construction or landscaping and the way he squinted at the fairy-lights made it clear he was used to working in the blinding sun of a Texas afternoon. 

“Can I help you, sir?” you said. You’d been raised by your grandma, a stickler for manners, and management loved how easily you used sir and ma’am with the customers, even if Neveah who worked the baby section made fun of you for it.

“I dunno, maybe?” he said. He had a nice voice, a little gravelly. “My brother said these are popular, for girls. Saw it online, TicTac or whatever—”

“TikTok,” you offered. 

“Yeah, that,” he replied.

“For your niece?” you asked. He’d mentioned a brother and he wasn’t wearing a ring, just a beat-up watch.

“No, my own girls. I’ve got two, they have to share a room, bunkbeds. My brother said it looked like juvie, last time he came over.”

“That’s harsh,” you said, shrugging slightly, hating your store smock. He smiled and you saw you’d underestimated how much better he’d look with his lips curved, his dark eyes bright. You felt a little wild, decided to push. “They didn’t want to go shopping with their mama?”

“It’s just the three of us,” he said. “Their room could use a woman’s touch. I’m not good at that shit—‘scuse me, that stuff. I do new construction, renos, but not making the rooms look nice.”

“The thing with fairy-lights is you have to have enough of them,” you said. “Otherwise, they look kind of cheap and pathetic. Are you planning on putting the lights on the bunkbeds or the walls?”

“I figured I’d let them choose,” he said. 

“Okay, well, it’s not like those are on final sale or anything, but if you buy three, you get the fourth free, so maybe get four and if they don’t want that many, you can return them. Just save the receipt,” you said.

He nodded, dropped the box in his hand into the basket by his feet and you grabbed three more to give him. There was no reason his fingers would’ve grazed yours unless he was the one who did it.

He did it.

“You’ve been real helpful,” he said. “Got kids of your own?”

“No,” you answered. “Just some nephews and I go on TikTok. I’m not a Luddite.”

“Hey, they got a bad rap. They were protesting for better working conditions. They didn’t hate the machines, just the management.”

“I hear that,” you said.

“That’s why I work for myself,” he replied. “Only way to have a good boss.”

“Yeah, this place isn’t the worst, but it’s not like they go overboard to be nice,” you said. “The break-room snacks are just the store-brand knockoffs they can’t sell.”

“There’s a decent coffee-shop up the street, lattes and they have a barista,” he said. “My brother’s with the girls until I get home. If you wanted, Christ, this sounds so cheesy, I never do this, you know—”

“I can tell,” you said. “But my next break is in ten minutes. I could go for a latte.”

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Hi can I request a smutty 3/e/32 cause of the heatwave reader shaves Jax Tellers hair. She wears a tiny dress with nothing under it cause it's too hot. and while Jax is sitting there and she's standing in front of him doing her thing he's going insane cause of that dress and starts stroking her thighs n more which leads to sex in the bathroom 🥵🥰

Heatwave.

3. "Will you let me cut your hair?" + 32. "Can I touch you?" + e. Heatwave

Author's Note - this is a drabble written as part of my 500 Followers Celebration!! find that post here. my first ever Jax fic - god this man is so gorgeous !! anon, i hope you don't mind that i chose to cut his hair rather than shave it - because the idea of shaving his blonde locks breaks my heart honestly :( thank you for this request!! x

my other jax fic.

Pairing - Jax Teller x Female Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - smut!! cursing

Word Count - 890

Masterlist. 500 Follower Celebration Masterlist.

You can't watch him struggle any longer.

Jax is in your driveway, working on his bike in the blazing sun. He's shirtless, golden skin on display, sweat dripping down his back. He looks like he should be on the front cover of a magazine.

You can see him becoming irritated. His hair keeps falling into his face, getting into his eyes. He repeatedly pushes it behind his ears, to no avail. It just falls again. You're worried he's going to pull it out in a fit of rage, honestly.

"Jax?" you call, rising from the porch to make your way towards him.

He turns when he hears you call his name, beaming smile on his face. The smile falters slightly when he takes in the sight of you. You're wearing a short, colourful sundress, material swishing around your mid thighs. It hugs your body in all the right places, thin straps revealing your lack of bra. He takes a deep breath upon your approach, begging his mind to stop racing with the filthy thoughts.

"Hi, darlin'," he drawls, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. You're wearing your cherry lip balm, and it takes everything in him not to bend you over the bike right there.

"Will you let me cut your hair?" you ask sweetly, throwing your arms around his neck.

"You want to? Thought you liked it long."

"I do, but it's getting in your way. Just let me take a little length off? It'll stop it from falling in your eyes."

He smiles at the realisation that you've been watching him struggle and could no longer bear it. An angel, sent just for him.

"Okay, baby. Let's do it," he says, kissing you again. Abandoning his bike, he picks you up around the middle and practically carries you inside.

You pull a chair into the bathroom and gesture for Jax to sit while you rummage in the drawer for the hairdressing scissors. When you find them, you move to stand between his legs, big blue eyes watching your every step.

Jax places his hands on your hips while you run your fingers through his hair, combing it gently. You're deciding how much to take off, surveying carefully. You know he won't mind either way, but you still want to make it look good.

You start snipping away, ignoring the beads of sweat that are dripping down your back. It's the hottest day of the year so far, and your air conditioning can only do so much. You wish you could walk around with your shirt off like Jax. He probably wouldn't mind, actually.

His hands migrate from your hips to your thighs, stroking up and down gently. He's making it hard to concentrate, so you double down on your focus, determined to finish the job. Neither of you say anything about the way your breathing has quickened, or the way his is now deep and laboured. His fingers brush higher, and you put the scissors down on the counter.

"What are you doing?" you question teasingly, placing your hands on his shoulders.

"Just sitting for my haircut, ma'am," he answers cheekily.

"Do you try and put your hand up all of your hair stylists dresses, Jackson?"

"Wouldn't dream of it," he winks.

His eyes darken slightly as they rake over your body, up and down. He wraps a strong arm around your back, pulling you into him further. The other hand is still tracing patterns on your inner thigh. He dares to move it higher, and lets out a guttural groan at what he finds.

"Fuck, honey. Are you wearing panties?"

"Nope," you reply, popping the 'P'. "Too hot."

He rests his head on your stomach and trails his fingers along the crease of your thigh.

"Can I touch you?"

"You are touching me, Jax."

"No, baby. Can I touch you here? Please?"

To emphasise his question, he brushes his fingers over your clit lightly. You jolt at the sudden contact, throwing your head back.

"Yes, Jax. Please."

You're suddenly grateful for the grip you have on his shoulders. Your knees are buckling already, balance unsteady. God, this man knows how to play you like a violin.

"No more teasing," you pant. "Need you."

How can he say no to that?

He's fumbling to unbutton his jeans, pushing them down his thighs. He pulls you forward so you're straddling him, and lines himself up. In one swift stroke, you roll your hips downwards and he slides home, both of you groaning.

"Fuck, darlin'."

"Shit, Jax. Please."

You use his thighs and his shoulders as leverage, moving yourself up and down. He thrusts upwards, meeting your strokes, sending pleasure prickling down your spine.

"This fuckin' dress," he groans. You giggle, and the vibrations drive him wild.

He can tell you're close when your hips start to stutter, rhythm faltering. He doubles down, thrusting up with more force. Jax bites down on your shoulder, and it sends you over the edge, white hot and blinding.

Your climax triggers his, hips not stopping until you're both spent and boneless. Your foreheads are pressed together, panting.

"I'm gonna buy you a hundred of these dresses," he chuckles.

"Fine by me," you reply, kissing him deeply.

"Good."

"Might need one with sleeves, though. Something's gotta cover this bite mark."

[moonstruckme]

omg I love your sirius sm like im actually obsessed with him!!!! I was wondering if you could just do a cute drabble or one shot about him cuddling with reader and fighter over who’s big spoon and little spoon? I feel like he’d always get to be little spoon and reader would complain about it but secretly love it! if not no worries :))

Thanks for requesting sweetheart! There is nothing I want more in life than to be straddled in a playfully agressive manner by Sirius Black <3

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 500 words

“This is so not fair,” you laugh, and Sirius is trying to pin you behind him with his hands splayed awkwardly on your back. “You’ve had your turn forever.” 

“I’m not rolling over,” he tells you simply. 

You wriggle out of his grip, his black fingernails grasping desperately at your sleep shirt. “Fine,” you say, “then I’m rolling over. We can just sleep with our backs touching.” 

Sirius has flipped towards you before you can get far. He pins the arm closest to him to the bed so you can’t turn to your other side, his eyes narrowed dangerously. 

“You are going to spoon me,” he says, quietly, so straight-faced you’d hardly know he was playing with you, “and you are going to like it. Understand?” 

You’re not near as good as him at the stony act. You press your lips together, but they slant upward. “No,” you reply, and tug your arm from his grip. 

Your boyfriend makes an indignant sound, grabbing your arm again and rolling on top of you. You laugh, struggling. He only grabs hold of your other wrist, pinning both to the bed and leaning down so he’s in your space. 

“Why must you be so difficult?” he asks, like this is really very petulant of you. 

You blow at the hairs falling in his face. Sirius’ composure doesn’t break, but now the mirth is in his eyes. Quick as a flash, he pecks you on the lips. 

“Wha—don’t do that!” you giggle, moving your hips this way and that to jostle him. He rides it out like minor turbulence. “We’re in a fight.” 

“Don’t be so good-looking, then.” He steals another kiss, better than the last. It makes you chase him once it’s done, but he pulls out of your reach. “Feeling ready to spoon, darling?” 

“Ready to be spooned,” you challenge. “You can’t seduce me into submission, you know.” 

Sirius blows out a breath as if the tedium of this dispute is really getting to him. “Alright, fine.” He lets go of your wrists, slumping down on top of you and folding his hands on your chest. He lets his chin rest atop them. “I can stay here all night. I’m rather comfy, actually.” 

You’ll bet he is. You roll your eyes exaggeratedly, making sure he sees your reluctance. “Okay,” you sigh. “You can be little spoon for tonight, but I want at least two hours of little spoon time when we watch that movie tomorrow night.” 

He grins, flashing teeth. “Can do, sweetness.” 

“Oh, now it’s sweetness,” you mutter as he rolls off you and onto his side.

“You’re always my sweet girl,” he says matter-of-factly, pulling your arm over him and kissing your heart line. He gives your hand a condescending little pat. “Sometimes you just need to remember who’s in charge.” 

“I can still turn around,” you threaten. “And is the one in charge the one pushing his butt into me right now?” 

“You better believe it, gorgeous.”

[virescent-v]

Subconsciously Green-Eyed

Summary: Jealousy? Emily's never heard of it.

A/N: So...I tried to challenge myself to do a 500 word drabble. I didn't make it. LMAO. But lucky for ya'll you get two fics from me within 24 hours! There's no warnings to this one; there's no smut.

Word Count: 983

Emily cast her glance back and forth across the table. It wasn’t unlike her team to joke and lighten the mood during debriefs, but something about this instance was getting under her skin. 

She eyeballed the table, looking intently at each person present trying to figure out what was bothering her. It was the usual group of people; Tara, Penelope, JJ, Luke, and Dave. But there was also a new addition to the table. 

A young, attractive agent from New York. A bright mind in the Cyber Division office, if she were to go by what your section chief said. You were down in DC helping out on the case they were currently working on. Everyone on the team was besotted with you already after only having known you for two days. 

You were a bright light in the otherwise bleak office. You were average in height, but loud in personality. Your optimism rivaled that of Penelope, as did your technological savviness, and your humor meshed well with both Tara and Luke. You were confident and extroverted without being cocky and knowledgeable without being a know-it-all. 

Everyone was captivated by you, trying to work closely with you over the past couple of days. You had knowledge that seeped into various topics that made you an asset at the round table. More importantly, you were creative with directions to take the case that opened up a few different leads that impressed everyone, including Emily. 

As Emily continued surveying the table, you were in the middle of a funny story from your first New York case and everyone around it had their eyes on you. You were leaning lightly into Penelope’s personal space, your hand on her arm, sharing a quick giggle at something techy. You made sure to make eye contact with everyone around the table, keeping everyone’s attention on you. It felt natural, the way you worked the small crowd, and Emily could tell that each member was enamored with you. 

She noticed that Tara and Luke’s eyes were more heavily focused on you than the others, something dark and gleaming. Watching them watch you, their eyes trailing sneakily but lazily over your body, Emily could feel something swelling inside of her. Something unnamed, something she hadn’t felt before. 

As she was internally cataloging whatever feelings were swirling inside her, she didn’t notice the room clear out leaving only herself and you. 

You noticed Emily’s distraction during the past few minutes, especially as the team made their way out and she stayed behind. Her gaze was directed at the table top, but it looked befuddled, distant. 

“Agent Prentiss?” When you didn’t receive any response, you timidly walked around the table and gently put your hand on her arm. You spoke quietly, not wanting to scare her out of her reverie. “Emily?” 

Regardless of your trying to be soft spoken, Emily still startled, jumping a little. “Wha- oh. Sorry, I was in another world.” 

You laughed lightly, breaking the tension a bit. “I could tell. Is everything okay?” 

Emily cleared her throat, still unsure of how to name the emotions rippling inside her. “Oh, ye-yeah. It’s nothing. Just a lot on my mind.” She looked around, finally registering that the team had left. “Are you enjoying DC?” 

You tilted your head a little at her, your eyes softening. “I am. It’s a nice change of pace from New York,” you stepped a little closer to the section chief. “I really like the team. Everyone’s, uh, great.” 

Emily had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Go figure you enjoyed the attention of her agents. She figured you probably noticed the glances that some of them were throwing your way, your personality clinging to the admiration. “I can tell,” she said with just a hint of something venomous. 

Your head tilted a little further as you scrutinized her. You were not as proficient in profiling, but you weren’t blind. You leaned back on the table and crossed your arms over your chest, regarding Emily with a hint of amusement. “Agent Prentiss, are you jealous of my newly budding relationships with your team?” 

“Jeal-? Jealous? No, no. Why, why would I be jealous?” 

Emily felt her face flush, confused by the emotions rushing through her. Was it jealousy? But why would she be jealous of her team showing you attention? 

“It doesn’t take a profiler to spot jealousy.” You walked closer to her, close enough that you could feel her body heat. “You’re stuttering over your words when you’re normally very well spoken. Your hands are clenched at your sides right now.” You trailed your hands over Emily’s hands, loosening them. You trailed your hands up her arms, keeping your eyes on Emily and her reactions. 

As your hands brushed her shoulders, Emily’s breath caught. “I can feel your muscles, you’re pretty tense right now.” Your hands continued north, brushing the underside of her jaw. “You’ve been clenching your teeth and frowning with narrowed eyes since you noticed Luke and Tara checking me out.” You trailed your thumb over her lower lip, which she had pulled between her teeth at your movements. “So, yeah, I’m not a profiler, Agent Prentiss, but all signs point to jealousy,” you said, arching your eyebrow. 

Emily slowly released a breath, gently closing her eyes in a way to relax herself. “Maybe I am jealous,” she whispered. 

You watched as Emily steeled herself, confidence lighting up her eyes. You grinned fondly as you gently shook your head, opening your body language as Emily prepared herself. 

“I think,” she started, her hands landing on your hips. “To avoid all further jealousy, I should beat Tara and Luke to the punch.” She took a deep breath. “Want to get dinner with me tonight?” 

You couldn’t suppress the teasing smile that broke out across your face. “Why, Agent Prentiss, I thought you’d never ask.” 

[landiary]

be quiet ☆ sim jaeyun

pairing bros-friend!jake x fem!reader

genre smut, drabble.

warning ur leehan's sister !! sub jake, handjob, cum eating.

words less than 500.

"fu-shit…” your hand had already gotten used to making up and down movements to satisfy jake's boner, which by the way, needed attention before entering your room. to shut up his silly moans, you mixed saliva with him, letting out some gasps that could cause jake's orgasm "be quiet pretty boy, you don't want donghyun to hear you, do you?" the only sound that echoed in the room is your hand abusing his useless lubricated cock.

you still couldn't fall asleep, to your surprise your brother's best friend came to give you a little visit before returning to your brother's room. although you tried to avoid him, his "leehan is asleep" excuse convinced you enough to make room for him in your bed and fuck him with your hand.

" 'm gonna cum." he murmured close to your ear. "wanna cum?" he simply nodded. "beg for it" your movements slowed down. you kept watching as his cock trembled with the rubbing of your thumb on his tip, his body arched from how overstimulated he was. he was so receptive.

"y/n lemme cum, please." sounded more like a complaint. "you don't know how hard i was when you touched me under the table during dinner, i can't take it anymore… it hurts." hearing him say that in such a needy way made it reach one of your ears and have consequences in your core. he listened to you, keeping silent by biting the palm of his hand.

your hands were a mess and jake just wanted a break, but it was impossible to see you cleaning up his mess with your own mouth. he could swear he could get another erection just by watching you like that. "can i sleep with you today?" you laughed. "i'm afraid not, hyunnie would be furious if he knows you're here." jake pulled up his boxers and then rolled his eyes. "hyunnie isn't even awake, y/n."

but a third voice came through the door. "y/nnie, is jake with you?"

.ᐟ eng is not my first language. be kind.

[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

I WAS GONE FOR FIVE FUCKIN' MINUTES. ( HOTD x READER )

AUTHOR NOTE! This is short little drabble / thing cause I have the time during my finals. Thanks for all the love. <3 pairing: Aemond Targaryen x GF! Reader prompt : A couple bonding moment ends with burnt cookies. word count: 500+ words

It was Helaena who had suggested bonding time. You and Aemond were a little distant. Not that it was a bad thing. You had your college classes and he was attempting to break into his family's company, attempting to make a name for himself. It was natural and to be expected. You would still see each other and interact, just not have too much 'couple time'.

So, with both of your weekend's cleared. Baking was going to be the way to 'bond'. It would be like the cute little scene from those romance movies. You'd smear frosting onto each other and kiss. It would cute, in theory. Of course, it was never going to be like that. He was a Targaryen. They did not do 'easy' or 'drama free'.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. You left him unattended for five minutes. You left him unattended for five fucking minutes. Five minutes. In the course of five minutes Aemond had managed to ruin the cookies you were baking. You did not know what he did or touched, but they were now as black as coal and on fire. Pressing down on the handle of the fire extinguisher, you narrow your eyes hard, the kitchen filling with smoke as the fire gets put out. 

Coughing softly at the stench of smoke in the air, you put the empty fire extinguisher onto the countertop, opening the window up for fresh air. Placing your hands on your hips, you slowly turn around to look at him, lips curled into a displeased line. There was an obvious guilty expression on his face, looking like a puppy who had just been caught chewing on a piece of furniture. A part of you wanted to scold him. Yet another part of you was worried about how damaged the oven was from whatever he had done.

“I go pee for five minutes.” You start, tapping your foot on the floor. 

“To be fair, I didn’t technically touch the oven⎯”

“No, no, no, nope,” You shake your head, “Nope, we are not doing that. No excuses.” 

“I love you.” He weakly smiles, attempting to smooth things over. 

Running your fingers through your messy hair, you shake your head in disapproval, the charred remains of the cookies sputtering out in its last attempt of life. Snatching the fire extinguisher off the counter in the blink of an eye, you press the fire extinguisher handle one last time, the burnt cookies sizzling out. A soft scowl tugging at your lips. This was not the ‘cute couple bonding’ moment you had envisioned. You were supposed to smear frosting on each other’s cheeks and laugh, not murder the remains of cookies with a fire extinguisher. 

“You messed with the oven.” You mutter, it comes out more as a statement than a question. 

“I thought I pressed the little light button, I didn’t know that it would turn up the heat.” He weakly rubs the back of his neck, “The little symbols are hard to see from a distance.” 

“Mm-hm, wonderful.” 

“Don’t be mad.” He pleas, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“I am not mad, just disappointed that this is what our night has come to.” You sigh, putting the fire extinguisher down. 

Staring at the charred crime scene sprawled out on the oven and countertop, you shake your head in pure disappointment, a soft pout on your lips. It was supposed to be cute. Not like this. Crossing your arms over your chest, you let out a pouty sigh, wanting to pout and sulk a little longer. Feeling him press gentle kisses on your neck and forehead, he softly sways you in place, like you're a grumpy cat. 

“Come on, let’s go order some take out. We’ll do those weird face masks that you have. Yeah?”

“Yeah..” You sigh, letting him drag you away from the kitchen.

---

[strawhatpoofy]

different one piece menses and braiding your hair

a/n: hi lovelies !!! here is a lil sfw drabble / pref piece about Buggy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp, Luffy, and Brook & braiding a gn!reader’s hair! I tried to make it as inclusive as possible, pls feel free to message me if you have any questions e any suggestions or notice something I missed. ok ok imma just get to it tbh

warnings: none I think

characters: buggy, luffy, sanji, zoro, usopp, brook

words: bitch idk maybe like 300-500 per character ish?

Buggy 🃏

He’s in the middle of a rant about “that Strawhat buffoon stealing his spotlight” when you ask him to braid your hair for you. He doesn’t even break his monologue, just gestures for you to sit in front of him. Before you’ve even repositioned fully his hands are off his arms and in your hair, detangling and combing through with practiced fingers. Buggy definitely can braid hair, of many different types and lengths and knows a few different classic braid styles, and it’s something you and the rest of the crew are well aware of. You hum as he lightly scratches at your scalp while parting your locks as needed, and he’s deftly maneuvering your hair into whatever creative style his fingers mindlessly deem fit. Buggy is a casual king of hair care, and though he’d never admit it, it warms his heart when you and the crew members ask him for help with things like this. Kinda like chimps bonding via grooming, ya know? So when you close your eyes, relaxing into the captain’s hands, and nod to let him know you’re still listening it’s more than enough for him to take his time making something pretty.

Zoro ⚔️

It’s a golden afternoon on the Sunny when you wake Zoro up from a nap with a soft nudge on the shoulder. He groans, lazily squinting one eye open at you, and you ask him if he wants to try braiding your hair. This motherfucker immediately closes that one open eye. With some giggling and persistence, and the rest of the crew bustling about, hopes of sleep for Zoro are effectively crushed. He grunts, grumbles, groans as he shifts from his sleep-sitting position to accommodate you in front of him. It’s when he starts to crack his knuckles that you begin to doubt your decision. He rakes calloused fingers through your hair, moving surprisingly slowly and taking his time when he catches tangles. You let yourself cautiously enjoy his hands combing through your locks when his hands stop, and he pulls them back to his lap.

“How the fuck do you do a braid?” Zoro has one eyebrow arched, his head tilted slightly. His look of confusion is enough to send you busting out laughing. Zoro may not be able to braid your hair, but he’ll gladly play with it for you and he can put it up into a sturdy ponytail.

Luffy 🏴‍☠️

You guys are on the deck, braiding sweet grass with Chopper and Usopp; it’s something you wouldn’t have expected Luffy to know how to do, but he enjoys it. Everyone is laughing and enjoying the sun, making baskets for Sanji to use in the pantry. When a breeze comes by, blowing your hair in front of your eyes, you’ve barely had time to push it back when Luffy is sitting behind you. He asks you if he can braid your hair for you, voice hopeful and intrigued.

“Wanna see if I can braid that pretty hair just like I can with the grass! C’mon, please?” His puppy eyes are so shiny, how can anyone say no to your sweet captain ever? So that’s how you find yourself pressed against his crossed legs, his hands combing through your hair. You feel your shoulders drop and your lids fall, and you hum as Luffy begins a surprisingly intricate series of braids. He’s giggling and moving a mile a minute, telling chopper it’s “even easier than the grass! So much softer-”. By the time he’s done, you look like some sort of woodland nymph with a multitude of different braids in your hair. Not necessarily a skill you expected of your captain, but one you fully embrace- letting your captain braid your hair whenever he looks at you with those gleaming eyes.

Sanji 🚬

It’s when you’re helping him prep in the small kitchen. Your hair keeps falling over your shoulders, and your persistent huffing and puffing as you try and blow stray strands out of your face has Sanji up behind you. His long fingers are pulling the unruly hair away from your sweat-slicked forehead, about to pull it all back into a bun when you ask him if he could put it up in a braid. His fingers freeze, just for a moment, before he proceeds to plait your locks.

“Of course I can, chef.” You can hear the wink in his voice, and you nearly reach back to give him a warning smack when your hair drops against your back, perfectly tucked into a neat braid. Sanji has washed his hands and is sidled up next to you at the prep counter again before you can even gush about his shockingly impressive hair styling skills. But before he can stop you, you’ve bolted out the kitchen door to show your oh-so-purty hair off to the crew, and to make sure Sanji is spending plenty of time plaiting everyone’s hair this evening.

Usopp 🎯

Usopp is absolutely a hair braiding master. With textured hair himself, he feels confident offering the crew his braiding services. Particularly when you all find yourselves in a hot climate, Usopp is like a newspaper boy desperate for a berry.

“Someone! Anyone! Come on. You know you want to- know you got to show off your iconic hair-do by the famous Sniper King! Please…” He’s starting to pout, and everyone knows he is indeed cuter than Nami. You can’t resist that pout. Too soon, you’re on your feet, hands up in surrender as you make your way to Usopp’s side. He’s whooping and gloating, with promises that everyone else will be jealous for not taking him up on his generous offer. Then he’s plopping you down by the shoulders into a seat from behind you. His fingers are calloused but magical on your scalp, in your hair. He’s chittering away about some new tinkering project as he pulls your hair into tight braids, meant to last at least a week or so. You’re humming and leaning into his hands. He’s done quickly; he’s efficient at this. He finishes his work, tilting your head to make sure the braids are even. He pats the top of your head, and sends you off to “market his business”.

Brook 🎼

It’s your least favorite day- wash day. With wet hair and a strong desire to get it off of you, you find yourself pattering around the Sunny. The first one you find is Brook- unsurprising at this time of night. He’s singing softly to himself and sketching notes down in a work book when you approach him, asking him to braid your hair for you. His surprise is physically tangible as he puts down his pen and book.

“Y-you’d let me? Are you sure? Could I?” Brook is giddy, touch starved and affectionate man he is. You’re nodding and turning your back to him, showing him your damp locks and he stops stuttering over his words, and is sidled up at your back with the softest of “of course, thank you”’s you’ve ever heard. When Brook’s fingers touch your scalp, you’re initially surprised by the warmth. You didn’t expect, well, bone to be warm. He scrapes the tips of his fingers along your head, getting hums of satisfaction to fall from your lips. He gains his confidence at this, and he begins to pull your hair into a simple braid. It falls against your back, dampening your shirt, but it’s finally off your face, your neck. You give Brook a hug of relief and gratitude as you croon over how well he did your hair. It won’t be the last time he does it after he tells you it’s something he loved doing for his crew, before. He’s great at it and so tender with his touch, and is more than happy to acquiesce whenever you ask him to braid your hair.

[michelle-is-writing]

Forehead Kisses, Spencer Reid Drabble

Word Count: 500~

Ever since our first date, Spencer has always kissed me on the forehead. He's kissed me on the forehead more times than he has my lips or cheeks. It's because of this fact that I question why he prefers that over anything else.

Before he leaves for work, he kisses me on the forehead. Before we fall asleep, he kisses me on the forehead. Even when we're making love, he chooses to kiss me on the forehead instead of my lips. It's almost like every time he kisses me somewhere other than my forehead, it's sacrilegious. Don't get me wrong, I love it whenever Spencer kisses me, but I just wonder why he kisses me there more and nowhere else.

"Hey, Spence," I break the silence of our quiet apartment as Spencer cuddles me close to him on the couch, his arm around me as I lay against his side. Both of us are clad in our pajamas and mismatched socks, our hair going every way but flat. "Why do you kiss me on the forehead so much?" I ask, looking up at the sweet man. From this angle, all I see is his jawline and light scruff from the morning. It's always nice to see him calm and laid back for a change.

Looking down at me, Spencer waits a few moments before smiling and kissing my forehead like always. "I don't know," he answers, shrugging a little. "I just like to kiss your forehead," Spencer says, reaching a hand up to run his thumb gently against my cheek.

Smiling along with him, I move to sit up on my knees and face him, placing my hands on his shoulders. "Yeah, but you never kiss my cheeks or lips; only my forehead," I point out, lightly giggling afterward. "And don't get me wrong, I love your kisses... but why that preference?"

As if he realized something, his smile softens a bit as he looks away from my eyes. A slight blush rises to his cheeks as he thinks, staying quiet for a few moments. It was a weird question to ask him, but he doesn't seem bothered by it, thankfully.

It isn't until he looks back up at me that he answers my question, the hand on my cheek sliding up to move a lock of hair to the side of my face. "Well, statistics show that most men prefer kissing their significant other on the lips, sixty-eight percent to be exact. Sixteen percent prefer the cheek, ten percent prefer the hand, and six percent prefer the forehead... I guess I'm just part of the minority," Still smiling, Spencer leans into my ear where he whispers one more thing. "Plus, it's where all your beautiful thoughts are~"

[kookieswan]

Can I get a drabble for Yoongi where's he's just having a happy married couple moment with his gf? Extra side of fluff

Mr. Famous Producer Man

Producer!Yoongi x Reader

Word Count: 500+

Genre: Established Relationship, Fluffy fluff, maybe the tiniest bit of angst if you squint?

Warnings: None!

Notes: I FORGOT TO POST THIS YESTERDAY??? I am SORRY! It’s a cute little thing, I hope you like it! 🌸

Find my Main Masterlist here! 🌸

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Yoon…?” Peeking your head through his studio door, you try not to be too loud just in case he’s engrossed in his work. Yoongi isn’t though; he’s slouched back in his spinny chair looking unbelievably tired. It makes you melt to see how much he lights up when he sees you though, even if he does look a little out of it.

“Hi love, sorry I didn’t realize you were coming.” You just smile as he raises from his spot, long hair a little messy and eyes a little droopy. It’s clear he hasn’t slept at all today even though he very much needs it, but you don’t bring it up. Instead, you hold out one of the two bags you brought and jiggle it lightly.

“No biggie, I texted but I know you probably have your phone off. I brought fried chicken for dinner? Thought you could maybe use a break.” He hums and nods, leaning in to leave a chaste kiss against your lips as he grabs the bag. You giggle as he leaves one more against your cheek, guiding you over to the couch and coffee table he had situated to the side.

It’s littered with scribbled out notes, some of them crumpled, others barely legible. There’s evidence of takeout containers as well and some coffee cups, your husband clearly doing his best to keep motivated. It makes you pout a little, the urge to pamper him even a little overwhelming.

“I could use a break, this song is fucking with me, so I haven’t been doing much but brooding over it.” He plops down on the couch after moving the papers and your resist the urge to plop into his lap, instead cuddling right up next to him. He unwraps the food quietly, but both of you just enjoy each others company for a while. It’s been quite hectic lately and you haven’t been able to do so.

You leave a few kisses against his jaw, enjoying how warm and safe you feel next to him. Yoongi wraps an arm around you, pulling you even closer so you’re smooshed into his side. It’ll be a little difficult to eat, but it’s totally worth it to be this close to him.

“I missed my husband today, I don’t like waking up without you in the new house.” You’ve only just moved in after your wedding a month back, and with how busy Yoongi has been, he’s barely been home. Of course you don’t blame him, you never would, but it’s still hard either way. He smiles his cute little smile as he peers down at you, eyes just as gentle as his words.

“I know baby, just give me a few more days and I’ll have this wrapped up, hm? Then it’ll be me, you, and Holly in one big pile every morning.” It sounds like an absolute dream. You nod your head in a knowledge ent before moving out of his grasp ever so slightly, just enough to grab the food. It’s time to feed this man and then it’ll be time to make him take a long ass nap.

“I’m keeping you to that Mr. Famous Producer Man. Now, give me some cuddles while I feed you chicken.”

[eustasskidagenda]

Hello! I was wondering if I could get a Drabble for mihawk, luffy and/or sanji. I was wondering on how you think they would react if their Significant other had PTSD? like maybe they are very powerful and act fine after battle but at night they have night terrors. I think even if they put their guard down and something just triggers them? Thank you so much for your time ❤️

Hello dear! I have to admit that it wasn't easy, but I finally came up with something. I hope it will match your expectations, thank you so much for requesting. ☆

☆ Mihawk & Sanji with a s/o who suffers from PTSD

CW : g/n reader, hurt & comfort, PTSD, mentions of past trauma (nothing specific), alcohol (just Mihawk drinking a glass of wine) 

WC : around 500 for each

Sanji

The moon is softly glowing through the small window of your shared bedroom. Sanji's arms are tightly and lovingly wrapped around your waist on a calm, peaceful, starry night. When you suddenly begin to wriggle. Then, to sweat. Sanji wakes up that moment, half-asleep and half-concerned. "Hey, you're okay, love?" Of course you're not doing okay, your face is twisted in pain and fear.  

Sanji tries to wake you up by running his hand on your shoulder blade. But the nightmares are more powerful than his soft touch. Keeping you trapped in the dark and gloomy world of bad memories. "Love, wake up" It hurts to see you suffering. Why are you in such a pain? You always look so strong and tough, but then, here you are, with tears prickling at the corner of your eyes. 

Your scream is heart-breaking, as you suddenly wake up, sitting straight up on the bed. Sanji doesn't speak, but he lovingly strokes your back and runs his fingers on your cheek. When he wants to hug you, you fight back and push him away. "Just leave me alone!" 

Your sharp voice broke his heart. He takes a small step back, allowing you to calm down and breathe. But, leaving, never. Suddenly, you look around. You're not in that dark place anymore, but in the safety of your bedroom, with Sanji watching you with eyes full of sorrow. "I'm so sorry, Sanji" you whisper, the voice thick with emotions. "That was... " you can't even finish your sentence as you burst into tears. This time, you don't push Sanji away and allow him to tightly wrap his arms around your shaking body. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to wake you up." 

Sanji sighs softly, wrapping his fingers around your hair. "I don't need an apology. Just talk to me." He's eager to aid, but he's overwhelmed by confusion. It doesn't sound like a common nightmare. "It's just…" you struggle to find your words. I'm just haunted by those memories. I tried to bottle them up, but you know about the fight we had today? It triggered something deep inside of me. " 

Sanji frowns with his twirled brows. " Do… you have PTSD? " He hesitates to pronounce those words. Maybe because he has already guessed the answer. You can't talk, so you just nod and try to wipe your tears. Sanji grabs a tissue and softly cleans your face. "You… never show any sign…" Now, he feels bad. It's his role to be here for you. All this time, you were suffering alone. "I didn't want you to worry…" 

Sanji runs his fingers under your chin and crosses your gaze. "Even when you're struggling, I want to be there for you. You're maybe strong, but you can't always bottle up. You don't have to carry this burden alone." Sanji knows what he's talking about. He wouldn't be able to move on from his past without some people offering a helping hand. "Okay, I'll cook something soothing. And if you want, then we can talk." 

He smiles softly and kisses your forehead.

Mihawk 

It's already midnight and Mihawk is still unable to sleep. A good book, a comfortable armchair, a glass of red wine, and a quiet night are enough to keep him awake. His face is slightly illuminated by the candlelight. He turns the page of his book and crumples it. In a matter of seconds, he stands up. The muffled sounds he just heard are getting closer as he gets closer to your shared bedroom. He slowly opens the door to see you struggling and shaking, fighting against the sheets and whimpering in your sleep. Mihawk doesn't speak, he doesn't climb onto the bed either. He kneels down at the side of the bed and grabs your hand, entwining his fingers with yours, holding you close. You're fighting against the ghosts of your own dark memories. He can't see them, but he can tell them, he can feel them. 

"Stay with me." He finally speaks, with a soft voice. You wince in your sleep and then wake up with full eyes. Mihawk kisses your hands, his fingers still entwined with yours. "It was just a bad dream." You're lying. Those dark memories are haunting your mind, and whenever you close your eyes, you can see nothing but them. But you have to stay strong. You don't want to be a burden on someone. "That's sounds more like a terror nocturne." Of course, those piercing eyes can see through your lies. "Am I wrong?" Your silence speaks volumes. Mihawk frowns. He doesn't understand why you hide your struggles from him.

"It's… not just terror nocturne." Between two shaky breaths, you confess. "I have PTSD." His impassive expression suddenly changes to a surprised one. It only lasts for a second. "I… never noticed that" he admits, a bit frustrated with himself. He's supposed to be Hawk Eyes, yet he never saw you suffering in silence. "I won't ask you why you tried to keep this from me. I suppose you have a good reason." You shrug and wipe your tears with the tissue he gives you. The moon's illumination through the large windows illuminates your face, which is full of half-dry tears. "I'm just not used to talking about this. I'm sorry." Maybe talking about your trauma makes it more real. When you bottle up, at least, you can feel like you have control. Now, here you are, in pieces and trying to put yourself back together. "I want to know your story, Y/N" you frown "that's not an interesting one" 

Mihawk kisses your back hand. The texture of his lips is divinely soft. "If it's about you, it's an interesting one. But I won't force you. What can I do to help you?" You feel exhausted. All you want is to fall right back into sleep, but your heart is racing and your mind won't stop harassing you with intrusive thoughts. "I just want to sleep" you whisper, but you can't even close your eyes. Mihawk just stand up and leave the room. After a second, he returns with his book. "Let me read you a story. It's a good one." 

As he reads with a soothing, deep, and calm voice, the voices in your mind finally come to peace.

[giggly-squiggily]

I saw the hc drabble event and my SaneGiyuu has awoken…

A headcannon where, when Sanemi saw Giyuu smile for the first time it was as if he saw an angel- okay over exaggerating much but still, he’s been wanting to see it again and now that they’re together why not take that chance to see it again? Problem is Giyuu doesn’t know how to genuinely smile on command, so Sanemi thinks of another way to get him to smile. (And laugh)

Y'all all my ships are being FED this event! I've gotcha covered, anon! This was so fun to write AHH!

When Giyu smiled at him- it was like the very first sunrise. Sanemi felt his entire world brighten, the usual darkness that hung over him suddenly dimming at that gentle expression. He nearly forgot to breathe- completely spacing out of whatever conversation he was having at the moment as he lingered, the sight permanently burned into his brain.

“God, you have it bad, huh?” Obanai chided him, completely oblivious to his own hypocrisy.

It’s been some time since he’d seen it. Sanemi went on with his life, that expression far gone far too quick for his liking. He replayed it over and over again in his mind, but eventually that simply wasn’t enough. He needed to see it again, no matter what.

~~~

“Smile?” Giyu blinked, surprised by the request. Sanemi nodded.

“Yeah. Like- right now.” He knew it was an odd request, especially after he asked him to spar with him. He didn’t care. “Show me what you got.”

“Ugh..” Giyu nodded, furrowing his brows. He bared his teeth, awkwardly pushing his lips up. “Huh?”

Sanemi stared. Giyu felt defeated. “Sorry. I’m not good at this.”

“It’s fine- you just need the right motivation.” At his sudden tone, Giyu narrowed his eyes. Then he was on the ground, pinned and sat on as Sanemi drilled his fingers into his armpits. “Ngh!”

“Come on- don’t fight it!” He growled, snickering at Giyu’s stubborn expression. “You know you can’t hold out that long. I’ve seen you get tickled before.”

“Y-You can’t e-either!” The water Hashira grunted through his restrained mirth, earning a snarky “OI!” from the other. He reached out, wiggling his fingers against Sanemi’s knee in hopes of freeing himself. “T-There!”

“Gah! Ohoho hell nah! Yoohohu’re gonna get it- geheht OFF!” Sanemi switched tactics, dropping his hands to Giyu’s ribs. His fast fingers were far more effective here- Giyu abandoned fighting back as pulled his arms into himself, squirming at the touch. “Theheere, now LAUGH!”

“N-Nehever!” A giggle slipped, then another! Giyu was soon laughing in his hands, covering his face as he kicked his feet. “Stahhahhap!”

“Hah! Told you I’d break you!” Sanemi cheered, if not a bit breathless at the soft pillowy sounds Giyu let out. “This won’t do at all..” He reached out with one hand to gently pry off his hands, the other carrying on his tickles. “Come on, lemme see that- WHOA!”

The world flipped. Giyu used his training to turn the tables, quickly grabbing Sanemi’s wrists and pinning them on each side of his head. “Thehehehere!” Giyu exclaimed, giggling through his deep breaths. There it was; that beautiful smile Sanemi seeked for a long time. “I wihin-”

He was silenced when the Wind Hashira leaned up out of nowhere, kissing him. The Water Hashira seemed to freeze all over, not expecting the kiss. Sanemi felt his heart drop as he realized what he was doing. He quickly pulled away. “Shit. Sor-”

Giyu dropped his wrists, grabbing the collar of his shirt and bringing him back up, kissing him back just as fiercely. Sanemi was quick to return the favor, grabbing onto his Haori in return.

“Don’t you dare apologize for that.” Giyu gasped out when they finally pulled away, cheeks pink and something wild like desire in his eyes.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Sanemi didn’t sound or look any better, pulling him back down by the back of his head for another kiss.

Since then, Giyu had been smiling far more often.

Send me a headcanon and I'll write a 300-500 word dabble for it!

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

CONGRATS 🌟🌟🌟

Don't go on that date for Javier Peña?

Jealousy, Jealousy.

2. "Don't go on that date."

Author's Note - this is a drabble written as part of my 500 Followers Celebration!! find that post here. this is entirely inspired by the fact that i am obsessed with javi's nose. that's all.

Pairing - Javier Peña x Female Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - smut!! + cursing

Word Count - 604

Masterlist. 500 Follower Celebration Masterlist.

Javier rolls sideways and lands on his back next to you. The both of you are drenched in sweat, chests heaving, sheets are strewn around you, legs tangled together.

You catch your breath and sit up, shuffling to the edge of the bed. Just as you go to stand up, he grabs your wrist.

"Where are you going?"

"We don't do sleepovers, Javi."

"I know that. But you usually at least lie here for like 5 minutes."

"You going soft on me, Peña?"

"Quite the opposite, actually," he winks.

You scoff and stand up, ignoring the way you can feel his eyes burning into the back of your body.

"If you must know, I have a date."

Javier is stunned into silence.

"I've just fucked you within an inch of your life, and you're going on a date?"

Now you're stunned into silence.

"Javi... I'm allowed to date. We agreed that this... thing was casual. You suggested the whole 'no strings attached' idea."

"Forgive me if I don't like the thought of you going to see some guy with my cum dripping down your thighs."

You wince at his crudeness, but it also weirdly turns you on. He rarely gets possessive with you, but when he does, it's a sight to behold.

"Hermosa," he drawls, low and sultry. He's still got a hold of your wrist, and he tugs you back towards him.

"Javi," you half plead, half whine.

"Don't go on that date."

"Javi-"

"Sit on my face instead."

"Javi."

"That's my name, cariño."

The arrogance is rolling off him in waves, confronting and unavoidable. His cockiness is almost suffocating you. It certainly doesn't help the ache between your legs.

"I can't cancel on him, Javi. He's a nice guy. He's actually looking to date, for a relationship - not whatever this is."

Instead of protesting, Javier just laughs.

"What is so fucking funny?"

"It's just sweet that you think anyone could make you come the way I do."

You roll your eyes at him, and beg yourself to wriggle loose from his grip before he breaks down your barriers.

"Well, I won't know until I try."

Javi doesn't like that. He pulls you closer, grabbing at your hips so you're straddling him. He rocks you back and forth over his hardening cock, making you whine.

"Don't go on that date," he whispers against your lips. "Stay here, and I'll let you ride my face the way I know you like."

How can you say no to an offer like that?

"You better make me come so hard I see stars, Javier Peña."

"Always do," he winks.

In one swift motion, he lies down and pulls you up his body. You're hovering over his face when he pulls you down, grabbing fistfuls of your ass.

That man knows how to play you like a fiddle. Within mere minutes, he's got you writhing and moaning, tongue lapping at you like he's starved. Your clit drags along the gorgeous curve of his nose, hitting it just right. He wasn't wrong. No one can make you come the way he can.

He groans against you, and the vibrations send you over the edge. You're gripping his hair, rocking your hips back and forth with reckless abandon. He loves when you get needy like this.

"Fuck, I love when you use me," he rasps when you lift your hips slightly. "Good fucking girl."

You go to roll off of him, but he pulls you back.

"You didn't think I was going to make you cancel your date for just one orgasm, did you, hermosa?"

[coffee-obsessed-writer]

Tattooed

A/N: A Dean Drabble requested by @wings-of-a-raven to help me write... SOMETHING. Thank you for the prompt baby, ILY

W/C: More than the 200 words requested, but less than 500

@kazosa @lovealways-j @deanwinchesterswitch

Summary: Dean takes you to get ink

“Sweetheart, I promise you, it’s not going to hurt.”

“Doubtful,” you muttered as you looked out the passenger window of the Impala, watching the buildings slowly going by on Main Street.

Dean pondered your response and cleared his throat. “Alright, well… it won’t hurt as bad as a demon using you as a meat suit.”

You turned and gave him a rueful glare before looking back out the window as Dean maneuvered his baby into an empty spot in front of the neon sign that flashed “TATTOOS”.

“Besides, I don’t know why you’re acting so afraid of a little pinch. I’ve seen you get tossed across the room half a dozen times. Watched your bones break and still pulled off beheading a vamp. Hell, last month alone I sewed you up at least five times, and you didn’t flinch. Once.”

“I know… this is just… different.”

Dean turned off the Impala while his gaze continued straight ahead. “That’s crap. There’s a reason you’re scared and I wanna know why.” He turned to look at you. When you didn’t acknowledge him, he gently took your chin between his fingers and guided your face so you would be looking at him. “C’mon, I thought we were past all this and that you trusted us. Trusted me.”

“I do trust you, Dean. This just feels so permanent.”

Dean snorted a laugh and sighed. “Well, yeah. Tattoos are pretty permanent.”

“No… I mean getting this tattoo is a permanent link to hunting; to living this crazy ass life that I don’t know if I am ready to live. Also,” you paused, knowing the ridicule you were about to endure, “I hate needles, a lot.”

"C'mon, I promise you everything will be okay. And ya know, if you ARE in pain afterwards, I have plenty of ways to keep you distracted." Dean paused, a devilish smirk on his lips.

That smile–there was no way you could resist it. You slid closer to him, your fingers lightly stroking the back of his neck and your lips hovering close to his. "Would you even do that thing I love?" You asked softly, raising a seductive brow. 

"God yes."

"Okay," you whispered, then kissed him tenderly. "Let's get this over with so we can get home and you can take care of me."

You glided your hand down his arm, and to the top of his thigh. Just the hint of of what was to come made his jeans snug.

"Heh, yeah… um, why don't you head on in. I'm gonna need a minute."

Unable to hide your amusement, you got out of the car, paused, and bent down to say one last thing before closing the door.

"Just for the record, I'm scared to death of this life, but it's worth every second, long as I do it with you."

With that, you closed the car door and headed in, ready to be branded a hunter for life.

[sailormoonrarepairweek]

Welcome to the third annual Sailor Moon Rare Pair Week! The event will take place from March 24th - March 30th, 2024, but I'm announcing the themes early to give everyone plenty of time to create their fanworks.

What counts as a rare pair for this event, you ask? Any pairing that isn't Usagi/Mamoru (or any of their incarnations), pretty much! (Don’t get too hung up on the word “rare”. Just roll with it, okay?) They usually have their own week, so this event is a chance for fans to show their love for pairings other than the Miracle Romance, canon or not. You can even include poly, platonic, and cross-over ships, if you'd like! Almost anything goes, as long as you follow some simple guidelines.

Fanworks should somehow incorporate the one of the day's themes. (You can pick just one; you don't have to use both.) How you choose the interpret the theme is up to you!

A non-UsaMamo pair must be the MAIN focus of the work (although Usagi/Mamoru can appear as a side pairing or as part of a polycule).

All ratings allowed.

No smut involving underage characters, which I'm defining as under 18 years old. Otherwise, as long as the characters are portrayed as adults in the fanwork, go wild! Just please make sure to properly tag.

Pairings of all sexual/romantic orientations welcome.

Fanfics should be a minimum of 500 words. Poetry may be shorter, though. (If you would prefer to write drabbles instead, you can write five separate 100-word drabbles about the day's themes, but a day's entry should still be at least 500 words long. You have over four months until the week begins and plenty of time afterward if you don't finish in time. That's plenty of time to write 500 words. I don't think that's too much to ask.) If you're writing fanfic, I REALLY would prefer you post your fics on AO3 or Fanfiction.net and provide a link to your story, but if you must post on Tumblr itself, please make use of the "Read More" option.

Fanart should be a completed drawing. (Any fanart portraying nudity or anything of an R/NC-17 nature should be cropped if immediately visible on your Tumblr post and/or posted with the appropriate community label. You can post the full image under a "Read More" or provide a link to the image on another site.)

Graphics, image boards, playlists, cosplay photos, crafts, meta/essays, etc. are also welcome!

Comments, kudos, and reblogs are encouraged, but don't be a jerk! If you're not a fan of a pairing, please just ignore and move on.

On Tumblr, if you tag #smrarepairweek2024, I will reblog your post. I'll tag explict art and fics reblogs as #nsfw, so feel free to block that tag if you'd rather not see those posts.

Please do not post your works anywhere until the day dedicated to your chosen theme. An AO3 collection has now been set up for this year's event. (Adding your work to the collection will not be required.) If you'd like to look back at the last event's works, the 2023 collection can be found here.

And here is the 2022 collection.

Themes

Day 1: Magic/Mundane Day 2: Hugs/Kisses Day 3: Fire/Ice Day 4: Music/Silence Day 5: Birth/Death Day 6: Break-Up/Make-Up Day 7: Free

(Event Organizer: @kaleidodreams)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for going no-contact with my ex a couple months after we broke up?

i (22nb) dated my girlfriend (26f) for nearly three years. we were long-distance, and i had intended on visiting her post-covid (we started dating in fall 2020). the relationship was great at first, messaging each other every day and being lovey-dovey. in december 2022, things began to fall apart. she told me that i would never be able to visit her or she would be able to see me due to her homophobic parents. i told her that really hurt because that was a huge part of starting the relationship, and i wasn't sure if i could be completely ldr. we didn't talk for a week or so after that.

while we weren't talking, things began to bubble up. i realized how she was using me almost exclusively as an erp partner/person to write her self-insert fanfics and used me as a bank when she wanted to spend money on nsfw art commissions instead of her phone bill (i had to really be on her about paying back $100+ before all this), and how the relationship was starting to fade compared to when we first started dating. i brushed this aside due to my own neurodivergency (bpd, among others) and the fear of abandonment.

fast forward to summer 2023. I'm on vacation visiting my uncles and having fun as it's my first time flying alone. i told my gf before this that i was going to be on vacation and busy during that time. during my time away, she messaged me asking to continue an rp we had done before the trip, saying "it only needs two more replies". i told her matter-of-factly that i was on vacation and didn't have the time. she accused me of being harsh and told me, "i could've just said no". i talked to my uncles about this, as it was upsetting me. they advised me that "a person can be in your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime," being that not everyone will be in your life forever. i took this in and decided it was time to break up with her.

we didn't talk for a few weeks after my trip until i decided to break up with her. while telling her i didn't want to be in a relationship anymore, she asked "will we still rp and write fics together?" it was clear where her priorities lay. i said yes, and that we could continue to be friends, just not dating. this was in july 2023.

now, up to september 2023. i wrote 100ish-word drabbles for kinktober instead of longer fics so i could balance it with my college course load. i shared the link to the beginning of the collection with my ex. she suggested i write 500 words for each day instead of 100. i asked why, and she said (her exact words)

"how are you gonna write a threesome in 100 words though? this convo we're having is at 65 words rn, that's over half your wordcount"

this upset me, and i had the urge to cut her all off and act self-destructively. i decided to instead calm down and not talk for a few days as i mentally sorted it out. a few days later, i civilly responded to her, saying

"what you said about not being able to fit a fic like that into 100 words really hurt ... all I have time for between responsibilities is 100ish words, and I chose to do that rather than abandoning kinktober ... if you’re that dissatisfied with my writing, you can find someone else to write your self insert fics"

she responds while i'm on voice chat with two different friends. she says,

"i'm not dissatisfied with your writing. i did not mean what i said that way. there's no need to be spiteful."

the spiteful comment completely threw me off, and i sent the screencap to said friends i was on vc with. my instinct was to respond civilly again, trying to patch things up. my friends acted like kronk's devil and angel on my shoulder ("no, no, he's got a point"), and i ended up blocking her on every platform instead of responding at all. i feel relieved that she's out of my life.

a month later, i checked my tumblr inbox for an ask from a friend. the second message in the inbox is clearly from her, but from a side account she denied having when i brought it up to her a year or so ago (the blog sent me a meme that she had shared on her main account so i wondered if it was her). it read (paraphrased),

"it's obvious you were never gonna work on that fic or rp again! you always had an excuse to push it off. i didn't matter when i was no longer your gf. you were a suffocating datemate, and i couldn't be gone for more than 10 min, but it was ok for you to not respond for hours!"

little note: i was a full-time college student working two jobs at the time. i had very little time to socialize on platforms like discord, and i took every opportunity i took. on the other hand, my ex was unemployed aside from occasional freelance writing, was not in education, and lived at her parent's house.

i deleted the message as she didn't deserve a response, nor did i want to make it public, but how our relationship ended still weighs on me. aita?

What are these acronyms?

[anystalker707]

.loving rewards.

Pairing: Gerard x [gender neutral/afab] Reader Word count: ~ 500 Genre: Drabble / Smut Summary: A nice reward for such a loving boy Kind of content: Pegging / Overstimulation / Praising

Requested by anon ["Hey hun, I hope you’re doing well 🩷 I was wondering if you could do a fic with dom female reader and bottom Gerard way, plot along the lines of reader rewarding Gerard for being so loving and caring to her, she just wants go give all the love back to him? Remember to drink water :)"]

MASTERLIST

         “You’re so good, you know that, sweetheart?” Your voice rang between Gerard’s moans as you held onto his hips, your fingers sinking into the chubby skin. They left behind marks that he would probably look back to later and bite his lip at the sight. Your grip was firm to avoid letting your hand slide with the sweat already building on his skin, so you could hold him in place while pushing your hips against his.

Something that resembled your name escaped Gerard’s lips among the lewd moans he released. Gerard had his face half buried into the mattress as he gripped onto the blankets. His thighs quivered under himself, but you did your best to keep his hips up while slamming your hips against his.

“You deserve this, don’t you, baby?” You cooed gently, making sure your hips slammed harder with each word, snatching those pleased groans from him.

There was such a contrast between your words and your actions that just made Gerard melt more and more under you. He really couldn’t help himself from blabbering, his mind slipping away from reality whenever you reached that spot inside him. It didn’t help much the fact he was already so, so sensitive—every little touch felt like it was lighting his body on fire after he already came a couple of times, and you still kept going.

“You deserve it,” your voice cooed every time he reached his high, showering him with sweet words and reminding him how much he was worthy of such a treatment. “C’mon,” you mumbled, “I need to show you how much I appreciate the fact you’re so sweet to me, right? Look at you.”

Gerard liked being treated like that, though. Being handled like that, like a damn rag doll, wasn’t that bad to him. Maybe not bad at all.

You huffed a little, looking down and watching the dildo attached to the strap-on sink inside his puff hole repeatedly. It made you wet just at the sight. It felt so obscene to watch him under you like that, spread open and taking whatever you gave him because he was just so weak for you. Just the thought of it was enough to make your mind somewhat fuzzy, struggling to process any thought aside from pleasing Gerard. Maybe breaking him.

The room was immersed in this thick atmosphere, making everything so dense. Sounds of heavy breathing and skin against skin along with that vulgar squelching were the only thing that reached your ears aside from Gerard’s babbling, and sometimes your own words.

Your words were almost automatic but somewhat measured—you knew how to keep Gerard on the edge, though also how to make him become desperate just by using the right words. Such a pretty thing like that; didn’t even seem like he could cum just because of some sugar-coated words you muttered into his ear while giving him the lightest touches. Or that he enjoyed being reduced to bits on the bed.

 ‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿