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by stxrstella
Ahsoka era uma vampira sedenta e Barriss era só uma humana que queria muito agradar sua amante numa noite qualquer.
ahsoka x barriss | smut, one-shot, vampirismo
Words: 842, Chapters: 1/1, Language: Português brasileiro
Fandoms: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: F/F
Characters: Ahsoka Tano, Barriss Offee
Relationships: Barriss Offee/Ahsoka Tano
Additional Tags: Smut, Lesbian Ahsoka Tano, Barriss Offee Deserves Better, Vampire Sex, Vaginal Sex, Lesbian Sex, Oral Sex, Menstrual Sex, Menstruation
#stxrstella#barriss offee/ahsoka tano#barrissoka#Rated: E#vampire au#word count: <1k#language: português brasileiro#ao3feed
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new addition to our library 📚 by becca! help to spread the word everywhere by reblogging!


"You Talk in Your Sleep… About Me?" 𝓙eno (이제노) x 𝓡eader
ʚ genre: drabble/timestamp, idol!au, fluff !! word count: 611 content warnings: none (reader is gn, pronouns used you/yours)
▸ summary: Jeno has returned from a tiring practice session, is it his half-sleeping state that’s playing mind tricks on him, or are you really talking in your sleep?
🧾 return to MASTERLIST
2:57 a.m.
It wasn't unusual for Jeno to return home later in the night after practice, maybe at 2 a.m. or at 3, even.
Not even the jiggle of his keys, which usually alarmed you, could wake you up. After waiting a few seconds to determine whether you were awake or not, Jeno walked up the stairs, cautious not to disturb you any further (you wouldn't have gotten any more sleep if he woke you up now — a habit he unfortunately took notice of in uncomfortable occasions).
As he passed by the bedroom door, however, a faint mumble stopped him in his tracks — his name, slipping from your lips along soft breaths.
His breath hitched, heart momentarily caught between tiredness and curiosity. Was he imagining it? Or did you really just call for him in your sleep?
He furrowed his brows, confused, wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him.
A soft, whispered 'I love you' slipped from your lips, faint but still audible to Jeno, his heart skipping a beat from hearing your small voice, as warmth spread through his chest.
Letting a ray of dim light in the room, the boy cautiously walked up to your sleeping figure, moving strands of hair that covered your face.
'Jeno, are you here..?' your words were slurred from your sleepiness and your eyes still closed. Jeno took a seat beside where you rested, his fingers tracing slow, absentminded patterns along your back.
'Yes, princess. I'm here. Why are you awake at this hour?' he whispered, his voice hoarse from exhaustion. 'I told you not to wait for me..' a warm smile made its way onto his features, his figure still sat, waiting for your reply.
'Princess?' Jeno tilted his head, trying to figure out if you were still asleep. If the small snores that came from you weren't enough of an indication, your slightly parted mouth — and the drool smearing on the pillow beneath — was. He bit back a chuckle, shaking his head. Cute. Ridiculously cute. Even asleep, you somehow managed to make his heart ache in the best way.
The boy silently chuckled, deciding to settle by your side and let sleep finally overtake him.
'Did you sleep well?' was the first thing you heard as you groggily rubbed your eyes, trying to shield yourself from the blinding sunlight coming from the window.
'Yes Jen, did you?' your question remained unanswered, when you saw Jeno grinning widely.
Giggling yourself, you watched the boy as he sat beside you, 'Why are you smiling like that?'
'Someone was dreaming about me, huh?' Jeno’s voice was laced with amusement, his teasing smirk growing as he watched realization dawn on your sleep-ridden face. He leaned closer, his grin widening. 'Don’t be shy, angel. You wanna tell me what it was about?' His laughter bubbled out when you groaned, burying your face into the pillow.
'..What? You're being ridiculous, Jen...' 'Well, I'm pretty sure I heard you say my name — don't misunderstand though, it was pretty cute,' he said, pinching your left cheek.
'Whatever..' You briskly got up from the bed, tossing the covers over him.
Giggling, Jeno started to follow after you, 'Love you too, angel.'
@ completelyjae
feedback appreciated 𝜗𝜚
— @kstrucknet , @neocity-net
#work: written#member: lee jeno#user: completelyjae#genre: fluff#au: idol#word count: <1k#warnings: none stated
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extremely unpopular ship but. marc/luca with 24 + 21
marc/luca: 21 (biting) + 24 (dacryphilia)
Luca braces for it like he braces for hitting the ground after being highsided off his bike. Marc saying you’re nothing like Valentino or you’re just like Valentino. Or—God fucking forbid—being sorry about how shit the Honda is. Poor boy, wasting his career on a comeback that won’t deliver.
He never does. Which is half the reason that they’re doing this, in the first place.
It’s not an accident, is the thing. Luca enjoys making mistakes with his eyes wide open.
He grinds up into Marc, dirty, slow sweeps, right against his prostate. The wet squelch of lube echoes gunshot loud between them, accusatory—as does Marc’s breathless little gasp. Luca keeps at it, again, again, again, so he’ll get another one of those noises, but Marc only throws his head back, puts it against his shoulder, miles of smooth, tanned skin in his bobbing throat.
Pretty, Luca thinks, a hysterical little laugh stuck behind his teeth, shaking when he runs a forcibly idle touch over Marc’s waxed, soft thighs.
“More?” He asks, careful.
Marc nods—open-mouthed, greedy—and drags him to hold his cock. Luca’s hands are calloused, bony, dry. Probably doesn’t feel that good, in retrospect. Marc bucks into his grip anyway, fucks into his slightly unsteady fist with abandon, like he’s bending a bad bike to take a tricky corner.
Luca bites into the soft insides of his cheek. Focus.
So he leaves a bite on Marc’s throat next. Mean, deep—it’s right there, after all. Presses down hard on the imprint of his teeth he left on the swell of Marc’s pec, on his nipple, on the knob of his hipbone. They’re growing dark already, a splotchy purple-red on gold, ugly, round lines.
He keens, jolts, legs falling open, hooked over Luca’s skinny knees. It’s like pressing on the keys of a baby grand at random, only to find out everything sounds fantastic. His cock twitches in his hand, leaks. Each slide is wetter and easier than the last.
Christ. Luca sucks in a breath, tucked against the corded muscle of Marc’s neck.
But Marc is allergic to breaks or something like that. Twists his head around and tugs him up by his hair. They’re looking at each other—which should technically be sobering, a cold wash of reality, but only makes Luca ache to press a kiss on the corner of his shiv-quick smile.
In a bit, maybe.
“You really are mean,” he says, winded, in this dangerous, wild delight.
Luca arches an eyebrow, immaculate through the hell press of Marc’s ass around his cock, how it rakes over him like an electric shock. “You asked me to.”
“People don’t usually—ah, shit, see—first fuck is usually a warm-up. Very polite.”
Luca debates for a split second, five lights and off they go, prying the words from the bottom of his throat. I actually get off on making people cry, just like that. Decides against it at Marc’s dark, cutting stare, his open-mouthed, shameless hunger. Too much like feeding a shark.
Makes himself grin, instead. “I’m very polite. You always say that.”
“Asshole,” he says—in Spanish. Putilla, like Luca doesn’t know what it means. And he laughs through it too, this ugly, honking laugh.
It’s not what you call someone doing a favor, sort of. Luca keeps smiling.
Squeezes Marc’s cock hard, drags his nails all the way to his flushed, wet head. Marc chokes on whatever noise he was making, scrambles to scratch him back, at his wrist, legs twitching to cover himself up on instinct.
He lets them fall limp, though. Stares wide-eyed, expectant. Challenging. Luca croons something sweet-sounding, backs off just a little. His grip is too tight, cruel, but more pleasure now, working him over in quick, rough twists of his palm.
Nothing about it is pretty, exactly—except Marc crumbling against him, Luca is at his strings. Except Marc whining, high-pitched and raw, when he shivers and comes with Luca running a nail over his slit and biting down on his nape.
Luca grunts, muffled through Marc tightening up around his cock, through the pound of blood in his ears.
It’s probably the funniest—most absurd—consequence of going to an engineer’s birthday party, he thinks, nerves in overdrive, about to giggle or moan or come, same fucking difference, heart drumming against his ribcage, thoughts hitting every corner.
Marc hisses out a thick noise, holds his arm. There’s no real strength behind it. Luca gets back on with what could be called his meanness, smears Marc’s come over his own dick. Jerks him only a fraction gentler than he was.
He isn’t crying, yet.
Not like he asked to, not like Luca wants to see.
But maybe soon, he thinks, perverse and not caring all that much about it, heat prickling under his skin, spit pooling over his tongue. Luca gives him a light nibble on his earlobe as a reward, more intent than actual pressure.
“More?” Luca breathes out, barely a whisper.
Marc—lashes wet, fluttering, almost there—nods.
#marc/luca#marc marquez#luca marini#you say unpopular pairing but christ they're popular to me#devil permutation cursed third person in the room#i'm sorry i'm just loving luca reaching for the ONE person that he abso-fucking-lutely shouldn't#and marc never getting far from tall mean blond bastards#also by the time i'm done i'll count how many of my fills have: a) luca marini domming someone b) overstimulation/orgasm denial#anyway#motogp#motogp rpf#rpf#chev fics#chev fills a prompt#also this 844 words and not 1k and it's fine#i'm FINE about it
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Barty shifted to the side, his heart beating rapidly. He felt shaky and like he might throw up. Clearing his throat he let his eyes jump to where Evan sat next to him casually.
He looked fucking beautiful,like always. His blonde hair was ruffled by the wind, his face slightly flushed. Barty watched with no little amount of affection as Evan closed his eyes and smiled.
"I love you." The words were out of his mouth before the words even formed in his mind.
The leafs around them rustled, the wind pushing against them. Bartys mouth open and closed, his stomach forming a black pit.
Fuck.
"uh.." Evan said awkwardly
"oh-" it felt like the word was punched out of him. Breathless and full of pain.
"yea...no YEA i-i was just- mm I'm going to..."
His limbs felt weird, his whole body felt out of place, his cheeks were warm with embarrassment. He cursed himself out mentally as he scrambled up and ran to the castle with a crumpling face and a breaking heart.
He didn't hear the faint call of his name too busy berating himself, he wiped at his face angrily and forced himself to keep going.
Way to go, ruin another friendship you idiot
__
Evan sat at the lake dumbfounded.
What the fuck.
He stared at the spot where Barty bolted from, his eyebrows pinched together. His heart thudding against his chest wildly, he pushed his hair out of his face as he tried to process everything that just happened.
What the fuck.
Part two
#quote prompt#rosekiller#barty jr#bartemius crouch junior#barty crouch junior#evan rosier#'unrequited' love#challenge: write less than 1k words for a oneshot#i actually suceeded i think#IDK i didnt see the word count#marauders era#marauders fandom#dead gay wizards from the 70s#i always write too much i just need a simple but still good oneshot#like you do too much bestie#barty x evan
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When you plan to do a small Agatha x reader smutty one shot but then suddenly it’s an Agatha x Rio x Reader fic and almost 2k words when you’re not even done yet 🧍♀️
#birdsong sings#I know it’s not the largest word count for a smut one shot but I was planning like 800-1k words and I still have a big smut scene to write#rio v.#agatha harkness x reader#agatha harkness#agatha all along#agatha x rio#rio vidal#rio vidal x reader#agatha x rio x reader#rio x reader#agatha h.
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Haganezuka's apprentice - Fem!Reader

You'd heard about his temper, or rather, you heard his temper, long before you first saw him. The need for new swordsmiths went beyond personal wants and so, you found yourself as one of the would-be apprentices under masters of their trade. Your master though? Haganezuka Hotaru
Since you would be entering the Swordsmiths' village proper, as a citizen and not a visitor, you had received your own hyottoko mask, as ugly as the rest of them, yet crucial for its anonymity. You were grateful to it though, because it hid your scowl during your first few weeks under Master Haganezuka's dubious tutelage.
"Not like that, you stupid shithead!"
"This is shoddy as hell. Again."
"Useless brat."
"If Kamado got a sword like this, he'd be coming back for another in a day."
It was all you could do to not blow up on him. As it was, you just shut your mouth and tried to keep up. You weren't even sure if he knew you weren't a man; after all, the masks did distort even voices.
You understood though, really. He was forbidden from touching the forge until he healed up and just tried to focus his energy on you, but he went about it completely wrong.
Every insult and snide comment fueled your wrath. It was time to show him what you were made of, what you learned and what you could do.
With bandage-covered hands from the blisters and rawness of overworking, you did what you did best as of late - forge.
The day you presented your first 'passable' wakizashi (passable for him, very good for others) was the day his comment felt less offensive and more… like a compliment?
"Hmpf, guess you aren't that incompetent, brat."
With time, the heat of his words went out of the window, his vulgarity dwindling as you improved in leaps and bounds. Despite his harshness and unpolished way of teaching, you'd become a swordsmith who could stand on her own two feet. Your apprenticeship would last for years more though, giving you plenty of time to really get to know your master.
"You didn't buy yourself any dango? Idiot. Here, take one. Don't tell a soul or you're dead."
"Here… What do you think it is? I didn't know you were so stupid you couldn't recognize tea. You like this type, don't you? So shut up and take it."
"Tsk. Brat. As if you could distract me from my- is that Gyomaru's dango? Hand it over."
Haganezuka Hotaru was just abrasive on the outside, but a big softie on the inside.
A big softie who couldn't take care of himself properly at times.
"Master Haganezuka, you need to eat. You've been in here for over a day." You cautiously touched his shoulder, hoping beyond hope he would snap out of the Zone. You'd brought dango and tea, hoping to entice him with the smell at first. It wasn't working, obviously.
He said nothing, just continued to hammer away at his latest work.
“Master Haganezuka?” you shook his shoulder a little, making him pause for a moment before he continued. Your patience wore thin. You scowled. You’d be surprised if the ugly expression wasn’t permanently fixed into your face with how often you wore it when dealing with him.
Maybe taking off his mask would make him pay attention to me?
Spoiler alert: It did not.
But it did make your face feel hot when you saw how handsome he was under it. A few shiny scars from the not-so-recent village attack still stood out against his pale skin, making him even more attractive.
Sweat made his dark hair stick to his skin, and suddenly, you were curious about the whole picture; you untied his scarf - it wasn’t like he was going to un-Zone anytime soon, you reasoned. You were not ready for the dark wavy tresses spilling over his shoulders. It was not fair how much of a looker he was. Was this man really single?
You continued to study him, memorizing his features for long lonely nights in your accommodation. Soon enough, you realized you were being a creep and should stop at once; you needed to finish what you started after all.
“Master Haganezuka!” you reached for his other shoulder to shake it. What you didn’t account for was the fact it was his blind side. Instead of an insult or even a scathing remark, you were nearly slashed with a red-hot blade in the face. You took a quick step back and it thankfully only knocked off your hyottoko mask to the ground, the wood smoking a little where the iron made contact with it. You stared at it with wide eyes, your heart in your throat and terror pulsing in your veins. “...”
“...you’re a woman?”
Your eyes met his, both of you staring at each other in disbelief. “You didn’t know?”
A flush rose to his cheeks, before his expression turned to white ash. “The old man is gonna kill me.”
"How did you not know I was a woman? The Chief told you when he was introducing me."
"I wasn't listening," he huffed, looking away.
"More importantly, you just tried to kill me!"
"Not my fault you were being stupid, brat!"
"You were being stupid. You didn't get out of here for over a day! You have to eat! And sleep!"
"Sleep is for the weak! I need to finish this project-" Haganezuka turned back to his bench, reaching for his hammer.
You snatched the tool before he could touch it. "No, you don't-" You high-tailed it out of his forge, clutching his favorite hammer as if your life depended on it.
"Wait-! You useless wench!"
Your master swore up a storm, hurling insults, screaming at you and chasing you with his half-finished blade.
Kanamori even ran out into the street in his pajamas, mask askew, a katana of his own in hand, thinking there was an attack again. Seeing Haganezuka, he huffed and went back to sleep, too tired to deal with this right now.
A few days later, the Chief came to officially scold your master. You had a kick out of it, thankful your mask hid your smirk.
#does this count as a drabble?#probably not since it has 1k words#desi writing#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#fluff#i think it counts as fluff#haganezuka hotaru#haganezuka hotaru x reader#haganezuka x reader#hotaru haganezuka#haganezuka#i tried
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Title: tastes like resurrection
Author: sulkybender
Fandom: Arcane: League of Legends
Rating: M - Mature
Category: M/M (Jayce/Viktor)
Content Warnings: None
Word Count: 2,576
Excerpt:
Here’s the game they play: Viktor is a good boy. Jayce keeps saying it when they touch, when Viktor allows himself to be held and kissed. Good boy. It comes out without thinking the first time. Immediately Jayce sees the hunger in his face, the desperation, and he says the words again, slower, like if he’s just slow enough Viktor can pluck them from the air and eat them.
Viktor kisses him then for the first time, like he needs to taste the words on his mouth.
“Please,” he breathes into Jayce’s mouth, and he tastes like nothing. Jayce wants him to taste like sweetness, afternoon sunlight, resurrection.
#fic rec#arcane#league of legends#Rating: M#Category: M/M#jayvik#jayce/viktor#Word Count: >1K#jayce talis#viktor arcane
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I can't find words to describe how sad I felt while reading this and how sad I am feeling after reading this! I am just so grateful that you wrote this and I got to read it! The way your words flow in every emotions is so poetic... seriously... when moon and sun will return our earth will resume spinning like it should.
the one where hoseok comes home

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x gn!Reader Type: Drabble // Fluff // Established Relationship AU Rating: PG-13 — Minors DNI w/ my content, regardless! CW: None 💕 Summary: It’s October 2024 and your life finally — finally — resumes its orbit. WC: .5k A/N: Deviating from my WIPs (ope) because I needed a fix-it fic for, like, reality? Nobody requested this lil baby blurb, unless you count… me. Dedicated to (m)y jihope-biased emotional support moot, @here2bbtstrash
You’d learned more in eighteen months than you had in over eighteen years of formal education.
The first lesson came on your second morning alone: hotteok tastes better when it’s made for you. Even if the cook gets distracted by the background music they themselves are generating. Even if the edges are crispier than they should be, and the centers are a bit gooey, or there’s pre-packaged mix dusting over your previously clean countertops. Even if that hotteok is cold by the time you stop kissing and start eating, you know now that few things in life are sweeter.
He is, of course, but the point still stands.
Showers, you’d learned, are colder when you take them alone. This was a surprise you grappled with for weeks and a confounding reality you still struggle to square. A scientific mystery, then and now.
All of the hot water was yours — exclusively — to use as you pleased. You didn’t have to scramble, soap-covered and squealing, for the prime spot under the shower head. Cold air didn’t nip at your damp skin when you lost territory because you didn’t have to compete for any in the first place. Still, without whole-chested laughter to echo off the walls, not much existed to separate your body from cold porcelain.
The absence of personal space isn’t something you intend to ever take for granted again.
Of all the things you’d realized in your uncharacteristically quiet apartment, one thing hit a little harder:
Love looks different every day.
Sometimes, it comes at an odd angle. It’s spending all thirty minutes of a daily allowance with a phone propped against a faucet. It’s staring up at someone’s chin, watching fondly as they brush their teeth, and smiling when they remember — without being told — to put the cap back on the toothpaste.
Other times, it looks like an Excel spreadsheet of pop culture news, fastidiously collected and organized so that no groundbreaking celebrity gossip goes unreported. It’s incredulous eyes and a scandalized mouth hanging open, interjecting occasionally with, “Wa, jinjja?”
Every now and then, it looks like handwritten letters with thick, black redactions applied after the fact with a far heavier hand. Though you couldn’t tell where in the Republic they came from, you knew — without question — that government censorship does not apply to hastily doodled hearts.
Today, however, love doesn’t look like much of anything because its hands are covering your eyes.
It sounds like clean spoons clattering back into the dishwasher you’d been emptying, entirely unaware that the door down the hall had opened and shut out of earshot. It smells like army-issued shampoo and Thai milk tea from that little spot near the train station, where surprise journeys home occur two days ahead of schedule. And it feels like the ground shifting beneath your fluffy house slippers; the Earth now back on its axis and ready to resume spinning like it should.
Tonight, love will taste like hotteok for dinner — and you won’t have to make it yourself.
#librarian nesh's fic recommendations#🔮: magic shop bookshelf#magic shop book 08#book: the one where hoseok comes home#wordsmith: eoieopda#mc: jung hoseok#pairing: x reader#genre: fluff#trope: established relationship#book type: drabble#word count: <1k#rating: sfw#jung hoseok#hoseok fluff#hoseok fic rec#hoseok fanfic#jhope#jhope ff#hoseok ff
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by SophieTheJediKnight
Barriss barely had time to look up from her homework when a massive basket of pastries thunked onto the desk, a stray bagel rolling onto the floor. She sighed, flipped her notebook shut, and leaned around the basket to meet the eyes of her personal hurricane, Ahsoka Tano.
Words: 844, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: F/F
Characters: Barriss Offee, Ahsoka Tano
Relationships: Barriss Offee/Ahsoka Tano
Additional Tags: Valentine's Day, Alternate Universe - High School, Student Council, Valentine's Day Fluff, POV Barriss Offee, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Pre-Relationship, Love Confessions, Gift Giving, Short One Shot
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tfw when you wanna write restoration au but you've gotta eat your resonant veggies first 😭
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done!!!!!!! I'll proofread and (hopefully) post it tomorrow 💪

#sorry I know I said it'd be done last week but I underestimated how much I actually had to write lol#and the ending portion needed quite a bit of work#so I'm glad I took my time on it#staring at this word count because this fic was supposed to be a 1k word prose warmup#and now it's this#frog blinks a few times
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Ah! This made me so mad. Jimin really crossed the line but somehow I feel like y/n could have dealt with the situation better. Still super mad at Jimin - the bigger asshole. You don't call a person selfish bitch who is just trying to look after you, gosh.
Thank you so much for writing this, Nini. and I'm so sorry I couldn't read and share my thoughts sooner. - suryanwesha.
Hi, Nini!! Can I request a Jimin angst with prompt 13 for the drabble game? ( ╹▽╹ )
13- "you are breaking my heart...and you cant even fucking see it" x Jimin
Hi sweetheart! apologies for the late post but I hope you enjoy it <3
warnings- angst, swearing, mentions of drinking
"dont slam my car door!"
you heard jimin call after you as you ran into the house, him getting out of the car still.
"y/n!" he shouted, putting his phone in his pocket and running in, seeing you taking off your coat. He caught his breath before speaking "whats your issue?"
You scoff, giving him a knowing look before turning and walking past him.
"Hey!" he shouted, urging you to talk, "you screamed the entire car ride home and now your silent?"
You finally turned to look your boyfriend in the eyes, your stomach churning- "what"
He blinks, "what do you mean 'what'"?
"what do you want me to say?"
Jimin almost laughs "I want you to explain why you are fucking freaking out about this, and why the hell we had to leave the party early?"
"jimin..." you try to gather your thoughts, stepping down the stairs to be at his level. "im mad because you told me-you promised me....that the drinking would stop"
He takes a deep breath before speaking "It was only 2 glasses-"
"4...it was 4" you interrupt
"taehyung offered those, and so what?"
"youre an alcoholic jimin! you can risk to have just 4 drinks, because you end up like you did"
"and how is that?"
You scoffed "you were yelling and causing a scene, then you started being aggressive with ME!" you feel your voice shake as it gets louder, your body cant decide whether youre more sad or angry
"oh are you embarrassed? did i embarrass you?"
"yes, you did. You embarrassed yourself as well, and I wish you'd see that." you sigh and run your hand in your hair, "you were sober for 7 months, jimin, you were doing so well....you finished your therapy progr-"
"oh fuck the therapy program, fuck them and fuck this too" he threw his hands up and tossed his coat to the floor.
"jimin" you warn sternly
"you know...the thing with you is that you cant stand when things arent up to perfection, it fucking irks the shit out of you, doesnt it?"
You remained silent, watching your boyfriend pace the living room.
"like...you bragged about my sobriety like it was something you did, I did it myself. You didnt care when I was drunk and alone in the studio every night"
"jimin thats not true"
"yes it is! dont tell me its not!" he scoffed, looking at you "and then, I decide to have a few drinks at a party when I havent seen my friends in so long, and when I feel like im having a good time, you whisk me away so you arent embarrassed of me anymore"
"jimin I care about you, I fucking care so much and I want you to be healthy!!"
"oh shut up, stop with the bullshit y/n, You only fucking care about yourself, you are a selfish bitch"
You feel yourself tear up at his words, trying to remind yourself that he isnt sober, and this exact behavior is the reason he landed into rehab in the first place.
"are you crying?" he looked at you with a glare, his fists balled up into his own shirt.
You sniff and wipe your tears, "yes?" you bite
"why" he questions, as if he hasnt been involved in the situation
you widen your eyes and look at him, shrugging helplessly, "Because you are breaking my heart.....and you cant even fucking see it!!"
His gaze softens, but he is past forgiveness tonight.
Its silent for a few moments as you quietly sob into your hands, he decides to try to hold you, but you jump away as if you got burned.
"n-no....dont touch me...ever" you spoke through gritted teeth...his words stung deep.
He sadly looked back at you as you spoke, "you arent sleeping in our room, you can sleep on the sofa- or the street for all i care" you wiped your tear
"y/n...im-"
"dont say youre sorry....you dont say that shit unless you mean it, and im starting to think those words were real"
"No!!"
"save it, im going to bed" you turn, walking up the stairs and slamming the door shut, leaving jimin alone downstairs as he watched you go.
#librarian nesh's fic recommendations#🔮: magic shop bookshelf#magic shop book 14#wordsmith: cupoftaae#mc: park jimin#pairing: x reader#genre: angst#trope: established relationship#book type: drabble#word count: <1k#rating: sfw#park jimin#jimin fic rec#jimin angst#jimin drabble
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wip wednesday except its sunday and im too high to keep writing tonight so take the first 200 words i have of a cat neil oneshot
Andrew is very rarely tired after a day of exams, one of the rare perks of his fucked up memory. Today, however, he won't deny the relief he feels in his exhaustion at the empty dorm.
He drops his bag before flopping down on a beanbag in a move so undignified he takes a moment to thank Renee's god that Kevin is staying with Wymack for the foreseeable future. The combination of finals week and a lack of night practices had the man terrorizing their dorm like a caged animal.
Neil hadn't liked it either, but Andrew didn’t have to deal with him bitching and moaning about it. No, Andrew had to deal with something much worse.
Now that Neil isn't convinced he'll drop dead in a few months, he's taken to freaking out about his exams like any good college student. Every time Kevin started ranting about their missed extra practices and their duty to the Moriyamas, Andrew had watched the tension in Neil's shoulders rise higher and higher.
Andrew had gotten so sick of it he exiled Kevin to Wymack's place until he got over himself. It's only been a few days since, but at least Neil isn't tiptoeing around the dorm like a shadow anymore.
Andrew knows he's still barely sleeping, devouring problem sets and lecture recordings like he can etch them into his brain.
He only seems to remember to eat when Andrew brings him food, bowls of fruit that are coincidentally his favorite or those disgusting protein shakes he favors.
Neil always thanks him with a smile when he does it. It's barely a smile even, just the slightest upturn of his lips. It crinkles the knife scars near his lips that Andrew has traced with his tongue.
His eyes too, seem to soften somehow, like Andrew's presence is enough to drain the tension in his back. Andrew hates it. He can see that smile in perfect rendition whenever he closes his eyes. Each time he resists the urge to break another window.
#aftg#neil josten#andrew minyard#andreil#im about 1k words in and counting so hopefully i get it up tomorrow or tuesday#also first time trying an andrew pov so thats something#yapping
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dragon Age: The Veilguard (Video Game), Dragon Age (Video Games) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Lucanis Dellamorte/Rook Characters: Lucanis Dellamorte, Rook (Dragon Age) Additional Tags: Dragon Age: The Veilguard Spoilers, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Naked Cuddling, Domestic Bliss, Ficlet, lucanis is down bad, he's just like me fr Summary:
Even now as he lies in his childhood bedroom at the Dellamorte Estate he finds himself fighting off sleep –– not for the fear of the demon inside him taking over, but to appreciate the woman lying in his arms.
or: it ends as lucanis had hoped.
#quillsmora#dragon age#dragon age: the veilguard#veilguard spoilers#dragon age spoilers#dragon age fic#one shot#word count: 1k - 1.5k#lucanis dellamorte#dragon age rook#rookanis#lucanis x rook#fanfic#fanfiction#rookanis fanfiction#lucanis/rook fanfiction#read on ao3
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Rec: Good Enough by coloursflyaway
Title: Good Enough Author: coloursflyaway Canon: Dead Boy Detectives Pairing: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland Rating: Teen [🍋] Word Count: 4,028 Summary: It’s quite flattering, definitely special, having someone like Edwin love
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#archived: archive of our own#author: coloursflyaway#charles rowland#charles rowland/edwin payne#charles/edwin#chedwin#dead boy detectives#edwin payne#edwin payne/charles rowland#edwin/charles#fanfic rec#Fanfiction Recommendation#gay fanfic#gay fanfiction#mlm#payneland#queer fanfic#queer fanfiction#rating: teen#slash fanfic#slash fanfiction#the sandman universe#word count: 1k - 5k
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Wow! You wrote a part 2 of it! It's so nice to see both of them working it out together. Sometimes for the betterment of your loved ones you need to be strict and I am so glad that y/n held her ground! I am also so proud of Jimin for accepting y/n's argument and choosing the better path. Way to go, Jimin-ah!
hello! I really like that jimin prompt! Do u think u can write a part 2 ? 🥹
ah im so glad you liked it! thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy part 2 as well! <3
Warnings- swearing, mentions of addiction, angst,
read part 1 here
The next morning, Jimin woke up in his work office chair, sweaty and nauseous.
The memories of the past few hours slowly sunk in as he sat up, remembering why exactly he was in his work room in the first place-and not in your bed.
A loud clash was heard from the kitchen, alerting him to jump up and follow, his eyes immediately set on you.
You sent a wicked glare before looking back down "I dropped a mug. Im fine" you muttered, but he was already next to you, assisting.
"dont cut your hand-" he mumbled pushing your fingers away from the broken glass on the kitchen tile.
"You look like shit" you mumbled, not fighting him and instead walking to grab a different mug instead.
He shrugged, "well yeah-"
"are you even sorry?"
He looked back up at you, eyes wide, "yes...of course I am"
You scoffed, "what you said to me last night was not okay..."
He silently nodded, picking up the glass and discarding it before leaning against the island counter.
"it fucking hurt, i didnt sleep at all..."
He gave you a sympathetic look, "im sorry, y/n...I really am, I was not sober and-"
"I dont care!! I dont care if you were sober or not....to sit there in any state of mind and question my love and devotion for you is just...is just fucking cruel, jimin"
He sighs, "what is it that you want me to do, or say?"
You shrug and slam your mug down "look at you! you are a fucking mess!"
Jimin simply just looked back at you, not knowing what to do in this situation other than let you feel what you feel.
You paused for a moment, "...I want you to go back to seeing your therapist"
"no!" he stood up quick, shaking his head, "god no, y/n, i am not doing therapy again, fuck"
"well if you cant talk to me you need to talk to someone...because if not, we-" you gesture between the two of you "are done, and i mean it, because im not going to sit around if you dont wanna get better for yourself let alone our relationship."
He sighs, pacing a bit, "i do want to get better" he nods, "I do, I dont want you to leave...." his voice cracks as he sighs, turning away.
You look at his back, the smell of freshly brewed coffee filling both your scents. "then prove it, Jimin"
You hate that you cant just run up and hug him, you hate that you cant kiss him and tell him he will be okay, then go lay down and embrace eachother until you fell alseep.
You can-...but you cant.
Jimin is a grown man, he needs to have the self awareness that this issue is his, and he needs to fix it before he looses everything...and he needs to know that you will be waiting for him at the end of the finish line.
A small sniff is heard, "ill go to the therapist ok?"
You nod although he cant see you, "good....thats really good Jimin...thank you"
He wipes his face with his sleeve before looking back at you, "im sorry" he whispers
You cant say its okay...because it still is far from it, but you will accept his apology and effort to try
"thank you for apologizing" you nod, "I think we will have a lot of work to do in the next coming weeks...so, I just hope you are serious about this"
"I am...I promise!!" he spoke up, coming over to grasp your hands
"okay, good" you nod, kissing his cheek and walking away
Jimin makes a mental note to make an appointment with his previous therapist for tomorrow
His addiction has always been a struggle-
but he would give up anything to keep you, even if he said things he doesnt mean and will regret for a long time.
He will change, he will prove it to you.
#librarian nesh's fic recommendations#🔮: magic shop bookshelf#magic shop book 15#wordsmith: cupoftaae#mc: park jimin#pairing: x reader#genre: angst#trope: established relationship#book type: drabble#word count: <1k#rating: sfw#park jimin#jimin fic rec#jimin angst#jimin drabble#tw: addiction#tw: swearing
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