pairing drabbles

Hi!! And aah…thank you so much :’)) Rarepair Anon..I’m afraid I’m just not familiar enough with Terushima’s character to feel like I can write him well, I’m sorry! I hope you’ll also enjoy some kurodai angst with a happy, sappy ending ❤  


Fighting with Daichi has always been fun. One of Kuroo’s favorite things to do, actually. Daichi will say something dry and witty, and Kuroo will twist his words just right so the other boy ends up flustered and usually threatening to punch Kuroo in the face. And then Kuroo will get so caught up in how good Daichi looks when he’s trying to be threatening while holding back a smile, that he forgets to tease him, Daichi temporarily gains the upper hand, and the cycle starts again.

(Daichi has never actually punched him, though he’s definitely looked like he wanted to. He’s also looked like he wants to kiss Kuroo, but that hasn’t happened yet either.)

It’s always been a game, lighthearted and playful, and it turns Kuroo’s stomach to something heavy and tight when that changes suddenly. When he learns what it feels like to actually fight with Daichi, and there’s nothing fun about it at all.

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fleiur  asked:

For the a sentence and I'll write the next five. Theo x Luna: "Don't be afraid, I feel it too." Thank you! :)

“Don’t be afraid,” Luna said. “I feel it, too.”

Theo held his breath, refusing to open his eyes in case the basilisk youngling slithered by again. It wasn’t old enough to kill a human yet but the creatures Luna was caring for could trigger a migraine forceful enough to heel a hippogryff.

“What exactly am I feeling, my Dark Lady?”

He heard her soft humming grow louder as she moved up behind him. “Power, Theo. You’re feeling power.”

Send me a ship and a sentence and I’ll write the next five  

PhannieMay16: Wes

Wes Weston was not bisexual, thank you very much.

He was gay as fuck.

But he didn’t have time for that type of stuff. With a schedule so busy as his with basketball and school and then his even gayer father he couldn’t put in time for a relationship.

Or that’s what he thought. Kissing Fenton behind the school was not in the plan. At all.

He was about to transform into Phantom, that much he knew. Fenton was crouched behind a dumpster as a ghost attacked random students inside. Wes had a video camera and everything, ready to record the solid proof that Danny Fenton is a ghost.

Fenton must have heard him, because he turned around. He gestured for Wes to come closer, and Wes cautiously did.

Then Fenton had grabbed his shirt, kissing him full on the lips. And by god were they much softer than Wes had ever let himself think about.

Then Fenton pulled away too soon, transforming right in front of him and flying off.

That asshole.

It’s a couple years after the war, Harry doesn’t know what to do with his life, but when he meets Draco on a chance encounter at a muggle cafe, he knows where to start.

“I’m Draco Malfoy. It’s a pleasure to meet you.

“Hi, Mal- Draco. I’m Harry. Just Harry. It’s nice to meet you, too.”

They introduce themselves again, sharing soft, knowing smiles, and shakes hands. It’s not like Madame Malkin’s; Draco isn’t that haughty boy instilled with pureblood values and Harry isn’t that shy boy clinging desperately to kindness. They were just Draco and Harry in a muggle cafe.

It would be a surprise when they become Draco and Harry Malfoy-Potter.

Absolutely! I’ve never written these two together before, but I really enjoyed imagining them meeting, and it did become shippy  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Thanks for the prompt!


The first thing Oikawa notices are his lips, the upward slant of them, crooked and teasing. He doesn’t like it. It feels off balance. It suggests that there are things this dark-haired boy knows that Oikawa does not. He hates that feeling.

“Who is that, Iwa-chan?” he asks, tipping his chin just slightly in the direction of the lanky boy who has caught his attention.

“Kuroo-san?” Iwaizumi says, as if that name should mean anything to Oikawa. “He’s their captain. Middle blocker. You didn’t watch their tapes?”

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a step to the left

to: @carmineduvale

from: @diehellarache


pairing: tom riddle x hermione granger

setting: canon au

rating: t

summary: your classic time turner accident, but from the other side.


The wizarding world is small and Hogwarts smaller yet, and any hope of the new girl blending in quietly was futile. Simply being new would be enough to make her fascinating–a small world, again, an incestuous and frequently airless one–but she was brilliant and not bad looking and very cagey about her family and she was… wrong.

Tom wasn’t sure how many of the other students had picked up on that last part. Not many people were fluent in the Muggle world and the wizarding, these days. The purebloods thought she was a little strange and marked it up to the baffling culture of her (apparently) Muggle mother; the Muggleborn attributed her oddities to an (apparently) wizard father; and lately halfbloods were keeping their ancestry and their opinions very quiet. Tom included, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t see it.

She did have the certainty of a pureblood witch, the bedrock confidence laid down by growing up in a world that cared little whether the Minister had a cauldron or a wand under their robe, and the twitchy violent reflexes of someone raised in the finest Dark manor houses. Impossible to grow up a pureblood witch and be so wildly ignorant of the culture, though. Oh, she hid it well, but Tom was a liar to his bones, and she was a talented amateur.

Her Muggle background was even less convincing. She simply didn’t know enough about the War. Even the Muggleborns who did everything they could to blend in couldn’t help knowing things that made her blink like an owl.

And.

And for all that, he could have left her alone–probably–but she was also beating him in Potions, and that could not be borne. 

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Sonovabitch!

“Y/N!” Dean shouts as he storms out of the room, walking hurriedly down the hallway.

“Y\N!!” He shouts louder this time. “Y/-” Dean stumbles with something and trips. He falls down to the floor doing an awkward barrel roll when he encounters the few steps leading to the library. A sort of growl escapes his mouth. “Sonovabitch!”

Dean looks up and his eyes meet Sam’s, surprised and holding in a laugh. “Don’t!” Dean warns pointing a finger at his younger brother.

“I wasn’t gonna.” Sam lifts his big hands in the air.

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A bit too long | Drabble

pairings/characters: kim taehyung x reader

writer: gae

genre: fluff

summary: Sometimes your stare lingers on a bit too long.

Originally posted by pjkook


“Ok so you get the rules?” The staff asks one last time as the stylists fix the mic on to your outfit.

It was the first time your group was on a variety show, so naturally you were nervous. Wearing such an inappropriate dress didn’t help either. Being dressed as a maid, the handed you the shortest possible dress ever; not that it didn’t look good on you. It just wasn’t your type.

It was running man, inside a café. One of the most ridiculous concepts ever in your opinion. There were clues hidden everywhere, which would lead them to find the exit from this trap. Of course you weren’t alone, you had your group members beside you. Silently glad that you weren’t the leader and faced with the tiring responsibilities.

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with a little help

to: @landsmanwashere

from: @thewasabipea 


pairing: fred weasley x hermione granger

setting: canon au [EWE; fred lives]

notes: drabble compilation


who is more likely to bring home a stray animal

Hermione is a sucker for a lost cause; always has been. But under her hands, under the fierce gaze of her determination, her mind working a mile a minute, lost causes don’t always seem so lost.

Fred tries to remember this as he gazes at the frail, sneezing litter of kittens. Hermione isn’t looking at him, focused on drying each shaking body, even as she herself drips onto the floor. Crookshanks, obviously believing his work to be over now that he’d delivered Hermione to her next Mission, is bathing himself apathetically right next to the heater (more reliable than an Everlasting Warming Charm, she’d said, and like everything else she says, he smiles and nods.)

He knows he’s so far gone on her that he’ll agree to practically anything she says. It’s bad enough that George’ll make that stupid “wh-PAH” noise under his breath every time he’s looking extra dopey. But he also knows how much it hurts Hermione when she fails, and looking at the kittens, barely able to open their eyes, he can’t imagine her succeeding. All he can see is her crestfallen face, her silent tears, as each kitten bows out to the harsh rules of nature. And he can’t protect her from much, didn’t protect her at all during the War, but what he can do he must. He just doesn’t know how.

Before his clumsy tongue can make a sound, she looks up at him.

“I know,” she says, quiet but sure. “But I have to try.”

Unbidden, his mind flashes to a time best left forgotten, when he raged far more than he laughed, when each breath felt like it would be his last and he would have been glad of it. He remembers a small, strong arm gripping his elbow, allowing him to set a tortuously slow pace as he taught his limbs how to step, and lift, and step again. He remembers screaming, face mottled red, at her. Why are you bothering with such a lost cause, he remembers. Why are you bothering with me.

Because I have to, she’d said. I have to try.

“Okay,” he says to her, in the here and now. “Let’s try together.”


who puts their cold hands/feet on the other

All Weasleys are active, nearly incapable of staying still. Even Percy, who never has a hair out of place or a wrinkle on his robes, will jiggle his leg or twitch a quill between fingers.

But the twins take that to entirely new level. They move around each other almost like snakes, weaving and bobbing, and you can never be quite sure where all four of their hands are at any point. It’s part of what made them such good Beaters. As a rule, they’re always moving, always generating heat, and Hermione enjoys that more than anything when her hands have nearly gone numb holding a book, mug of tea like ice on the table. Fred’s warm hands will run up and down her arms, fluffling the small hairs and generating goosebumps, before winding down her back or tucking errant hair behind her ears or running a thumb over her eyebrows. He spreads heat wherever he goes, and it warms her to her core.

That is, until he shoves his own icy toes under her bum, causing her to jump, shrieking into the air.


who would use more nicknames for the other

Fred will call her every pet name under the sun, and she’s the fool all the more for answering to them. She can’t help, it’s the tone more than anything that she responds to. Sometimes saccharine sweet, overt enough to nearly be sarcastic, or a playful growl that resonates through her body. There’s just something about Fred when he’s talking to her that she picks up on, even if she’s halfway across the room.


who worries more about the other

Hermione never thought she’d have to have that horrible heart in the throat feeling of fear, panic, and dread all bubbling up and threatening to drown her until she started working for Fred and George.

Sometimes a bang echoes out from the workshop and it’s all she can do to stop the scream. It’s not past trauma, not exactly; she knows that there are no Death Eaters hiding behind a cauldron or masquerading as a customer to get close to a Valued Target. It’s more that the twins have the same wilful lack of self-preservation that Harry and Ron have, and it’ll never fail to send her worrywart heart into hyperdrive. It doesn’t help that more and more Fred’s laughter, for a brief time so scarce as to be non-existent, now rings across the shop as booming as it ever was, and never, ever fails to make her smile. Or that when his hands brush her, even casually and oh-so friendly, she’ll blush fire-engine red, putting Ron’s ears to shame. Or that when his eyes meet hers, sharing a secret, private moment, mirth dancing in those beautiful blues, the world simply falls away.

She worries and frets, but she has never sat idly by. She researches and she plans. Before long, she’s designed an entire presentation, including nearly three feet of parchment, of why she’d make an excellent addition to their research and development team. She’s got air-tight defenses for any argument they could present, and she’d been sure to bury the truth of her sudden desire to develop new pranks; keeping them safe. Keeping Fred safe.

She’s barely hit her first talking point when George bursts into peals of delighted laughter, doubling over and practically sliding off his stool. Fred’s got a small smile of his own, but it’s almost hidden under slowly building blush high on his cheeks.

“What?” she demands, knowing she’s using her “swot” voice but unable to help it. She’s getting higher-pitched, but she can feel the embarrassment climbing up her throat. “You two are businessmen now, and should be able to display a modicum of professionalism - “

“That’s not it at all, love,” George grins. “We’ve been wanting that big brain looking in on our experiments for ages now, but Fred,” he elbows his brother, “didn’t want it to interfere with his wooing, you know? Didn’t want to make it awk-ward,” he enunciates.

“Oh,” she says, voice small, sweaty fingers releasing the death grip she had on her parchment. She can barely bring herself to look Fred in the eye, but Gryffindor, she reminders herself. The man himself brings a hand to rub the back of his neck, and is avoiding her gaze just as intently.

“Is that true?” she whispers.

“I mean, yeah, Hermione, you’re brilliant. Why wouldn’t we want your help?” He’s still focusing on a spot above her head, and suddenly, she can’t take it. She’s brave, a bonafide Hero if you read the Prophet, and she’s done waiting to go after what she wants.

Determined, she drops her parchment and strides over to him. Thankfully he’s still sitting, and she doesn’t have to reach very far to grip his chin in her hand.

“Fred?” she prompts, as gentle as she can with her heart jackhammering in her chest. “What do you want?”

His eyes met hers, and god, they’re so clear and bright and beautiful, and she could look into them for the rest of her life and never tire of it.

“You,” he whispers, breath fanning across her face, sweet like a sugar quill.

“I accept,” she grins, and pulls him in closer for a kiss.


Lifted - pt 2.

Summary: Maybe standing outside of Jeon Jungkook’s apartment to buy weed wasn’t a good idea.

Genre: Romance. Smut. (more like a drabble tbh)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Rating: Mature (stoned!jungkook)

Length: 2.0k

Part 1 - Part 2

A/N: this is short garbage. its almost disgusting how short and mediocre this is so i sincerely apologize but i said i would write a part two AND a part three so im thinking the last part has to be like monumental and filled with smut and a fluffly stoner jungkook so wait for that. i tend to go through phases where i write a lot and then i stop completely lol don’t know for how long im going to be inspired but lets enjoy it while it lasts ok??? 

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Larkspur

Pairing : Neville x Pansy
Words : 1,247
For : get to know our members challenge: favorite rare-pairs - neville longbottom & pansy parkinson (2/5) - adrenne | slytherdornet’s new beginnings challenge

After the war, Neville all but disappears. He keeps in sparse contact with Harry, and even less so with Ginny and Luna, just so they know he’s all right, but he can’t deal with the spotlight, with the pressure.

So, he retreats to the first thing he ever really loved, Herbology.

With a little help from Professor Sprout, he takes up an apprenticeship with an old wizard in India, far far away from anyone who knows his name. He spends almost two years there, secluded and isolated, taking time to heal and discover himself. It’s cathartic and does wonders for his soul.

Then, one sweltering summer day, his mentor and friend, Shri Jha, hands him an old and worn case full of the things they’d collected and created over the past two weeks.

“But,” Neville starts, a little confused and anxious, “you usually make the inventory runs.”

Shri Jha just nods. “And now I am asking you to.” Neville starts to protest but he holds up his hand, silencing Neville. “I am sorry, I misspoke. Now I am telling you to. The client list is in the case.”

Neville relents, and begins his journey to each shop they sell too and trade with, starting with the ones in the countries farthest from England. New Zealand, Australia, and Japan, Russia, Kazakhstan, and Poland, Germany, Austria, France, Italy, and Greece, Turkey, Libya, Egypt, and Kenya, Angola, Nigeria, and Morocco. Their list of clients is over two feet long, and he visits each and every one of them before bracing himself for home.

In Morocco he sends word to his friends because if anything could lessen the anxiety of the visit, they could. He sets up a string of lunches and dinners, and finally picks up his portkey from the Moroccan Ministry.

He manages his way to the first shop, a tiny place they only deliver to every six months or so, and then to another just as secluded and small. He works his way up, moving around the the small enclaves of wizarding folk and working his way up to London. He knocks on a door just outside of Grantham, his last stop before Diagon Alley, and nearly chokes on air when he sees who’s on the other side.

Her hair is longer and pulled up with a blunt fringe that grazes her eyebrows, there’s dirt on her face and arms, and her shirt is ill fitting and dampened with sweat, but it’s her.

“Pansy?” he finally manages.

Pansy holds back a smile. “Longbottom,” she greets, as though she’s completely unsurprised to see him. She steps back and opens the door wider to let him in, then closes it behind him and starts to take off her work gloves.

Neville watches, still in shock, as she wipes her face and heads towards the small kitchenette in the back of the shop.

“Would you like some tea?” she calls, and he nods before he realized that she can’t see him.

“Sure,” he responds, still trying to wrap his head around what was happening. The last time he’d had any real interaction with him had been in Sixth Year, in the greenhouses. They’d had some sort of surreal gentle moment, and afterwards kept on like they’d been for years, pretending it had never happened.

But there she was, making tea for him like they were anyone other than who they were.

“I hope you don’t mind a white tea,” she said, walking towards him with two small cups in her hand. “It’s what I usually make Kanan.”

“White tea is great, thank you.” Neville takes a cup and it’s nearly to his lips before he realizes what she’s said. “Wait, how did you know I was here on behalf of Kanan Jha?”

Pansy finishes her sip with a laugh and Neville can’t help but be awestruck by the sound. “You think Kanan and I don’t talk? My first visit with him I mentioned having gone to Hogwarts and said that his apprentice had as well, and after that it was only a matter of your name.”

He nods and sips his tea, letting everything sink in as it’s warmth travelled to his stomach.

“So do I get to see what you’ve brought me or…” Pansy says, setting her cup down on the table behind her.

“Oh, yes, um-” He looks for a place to set his cup before Pansy gives another soft laugh and takes it from him, setting it next to hers. “We’ve um-” he stammers as he opens the case. He hadn’t been this bumbling since school. He cleares his throat, refocusing his mind and finding his voice. “We’ve acquired an abnormally large amount of Delphinium, so if you’d perhaps like to purchase a larger quantity than usual, we can offer it at a discounted price.”

“Unfortunately I think we’re all set on Delphinium, not a bit seller around these parts.” She reaches her hands out to grasp either side of the case. “May I?”

“Oh, of course.” He pushes the case into her hands and she brings it onto her lap. He watches her go over the case, her fingers gently grazing over the compartments and bundles of herbs and plants, her eyes carefully studying the ones she picks up, the bead of sweat slowly rolling down the side of her neck and onto her delicate clavicle.

He swallows.

“So how long have you been here,” he asks, distracting himself.

“I met Yarrow about two years ago, she owns this place. After a few months she asked me if I’d could help out and I’ve been here ever since,” she responded without looking up. “She’s in Paraguay right now,” she added.

He watches her thumb through a few more trays before the silence gets to him and he has to speak. “And you’re doing all right? Here?”

She stops moving and he’s instantly angry with himself for being so intrusive, but then she looks up and smiles. “I’m doing better than I ever thought I could.” She closes the case, drops a handful of items on the top, and pushes it back to him, then stands to retrieve the money.

“This is all you need?” he asks, grabbing the items and standing as well.

“Kanan was here two weeks ago,” she responds, handing Neville a handful of coins. “We don’t really do all that much business here.”

With a dumb look on his face, Neville takes the money and pockets it. Two weeks ago? Then why had he added this place to the list?

“Damn that man,” he mumbles, and Pansy pretends not to hear him. “Well we appreciate your business,” he says louder, stepping towards the door. “And thank you for the tea.”

“Of course,” Pansy says, following him. She reaches passed him and opens the door. She smells like strawberries and earth and sweat. He swallows and steps across the threshold.

“You’ll let us know if you find yourself in need of anything - any Herbology needs.”

Pansy’s nose crinkles as she lets out a small huff of a laugh. “We always do.”

Neville nods. “Right,” he mumbles, not knowing how to end the interaction, not knowing if he really wants to. “Er, have a good day then.”

Pansy leans against the door, watching him walk away. “Longbottom,” she calls, and he stops, turns. “Don’t be a stranger, yeah?”

Neville smiles, big and wide.

No, he didn’t think he wanted to be a stranger much at all anymore.

A Touch Of Love, 1.

→ Genre | Romance / Valentine’s Day drabbles.

→ Pairing | Kim Taehyung / Reader.

Prompt“No, like– It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.”

→ Words | 1,099 words.


Kim Taehyung knows better than to expect you to be on time.

It is but a mere concept created by humanity! You will always exclaim as a feeble excuse to defend your indisputable lack of management when it comes to the twenty-four hours of a day. There is no doubt about it that you leave important, need-to-be-attended-to matters to the final, clutching seconds before they are due, and that a decent handful of minutes are lost between the spaces of your fingers, squandered to distractions and procrastination.

It is a behaviour that Taehyung hates to adore, a terrible skill that you have refined to the marrow, yet he cannot deny how unbearably endearing it is. Most especially when you arrive just on time, blood flushing your cheeks, eyes shining with the sting of the wind where it cut into the delicate film while you ran, the air punched out of your lungs though you still kiss him as though you are not already lightheaded enough.

Today is no different. Except it is. It is! Because today defines the anniversary that the one and only Kim Taehyung took you out on the first date of a drive-in theatre soaked in the hues of twilight and learned that you could point out all of the constellations in the sky and discovered what buttered popcorn tastes like when stuck in the crevices of your lips and how delightfully warm his hand feels when it is carefully positioned beneath lace in the opening created by your unbuttoned, unzipped jeans. The two of you found love underneath placid starlight in the blanket-laden tray of his ancient truck, a devotion that has been strung in unraveling silk, tied to the towball of the vehicle parked before a screen bigger than imaginable, laced around the bedpost of the room you first made unforgettable love amongst freshly washed sheets, knotted and bound in the landmarks that the both of you claimed as your own along the way in your venture of redamancy until this very moment right here. The third anniversary. Marking the longest relationship that Taehyung has ever had the rapture of being enamoured by, the sole one that he truly believes will continue on until his final breath on this earth.

And you are late. As per usual.

The coffee that Taehyung nurses in the comfort of the outdoor cafe awning is lukewarm by the moment that he notices the escalating soundtrack of sneakers slapping sharp against the pavement, loose pebbles crunching beneath the soles in their trek. And, in that time, there is not a moment to spare to turn around and spectate your approach for you are already skidding into view by the side of the table, a grin splitting your flustered features into that of a crescent moon, arms goofily lifted in the air and Taehyung just about falls in love all over again.

“Happy–” You dive onto his shores, collapsing the entirety of your weight onto his seated, gratified self and kissing him absolutely silly amidst your words– “Third– Anniversary– Lover!”

Taehyung cups your blushing features between his palms, framing beauty and the one thing in this world that he adores like no other, holding your catastrophic entity so preciously. There is honey still pressed to your lips and he yearns for more, bringing your mouths together in gentle intimacy until the rubescent simmer of your cheeks is suitably attributed to the way he dips his tongue into the parted seam of your lips, rather than the urgent sprint you made from the apartment to meet him on the cusp of his ending lunch break.

“You’re hopeless,” Taehyung teases, kisses you once more for good measure, public displays of affection be wholly damned. “Did you just wake up?”

Cheekily, you grin wider and slink away from his hold to position yourself in the opposite seat, red hands on unadulterated display. “Technically, it’s still morning.”

“For only ten more minutes, silly girl.” Affection inflects his tone, and now that you are right here, living and existing before him, the desire to abandon the remaining five hours of his shift to spend the day with you tugs earnestly at his heart. “You still taste of… Breakfast…”

The remainder of Taehyung’s sentence dies on the tip of his tongue as he gets a good look at you, a really good look, beyond the staring at your face that his eyes have been trained on doing since the second you arrived. Practically swallowing your torso is, unmistakably, his own sweater of black and white stripes, the hem tucked into the front of your jeans while the arms are cloaked in the denim of, yet again, his own jacket. The sheer nonchalance that flows confidently in your movements as you flick through a menu has him completely unsure as to whether you realise that you are currently wearing his clothes, or if the sheer rush of getting here enforced you to throw on whatever you could find without noticing the size difference in the attire.

“Is there something on my face?” And Taehyung, in his bewildered state, comes to realise that you are blinking at him, eyebrow raised.

“Ah– No, it’s just that… My clothes–”

A small bubble of laughter escapes your lungs, lowering your lashes to observe your fingertips picking at a loose thread on the cuff of the denim jacket, the tiniest smile nestled in the corner of your mouth. “Oh! Yeah, they are truly so comfy and they smell like your cologne, so I sometimes wear them out while running errands or visiting the university. I never realised you didn’t know! I hope you weren’t wanting to wear these tonight–”

“No, no– I just– They look unacceptably fantastic on you,” Taehyung gradually smiles, adoration swelling in his chest at the affectionate statement you so effortlessly declared. “You suit them more than I do.”

“Why thank you, but you know what they suit better?” You muse, and it is a trap that Taehyung, without realising, steps himself directly into as the sound of acknowledgement he creates is suspended in the air between you, and you are answering the cursed question with a smirk made for sinners.

“The floor.”

And let us just say that Taehyung never thought that the third anniversary with the love of his life would result in him nearly losing his job because he never returned from lunch. Though sometimes, love makes everyone enact upon ludicrous decisions – most especially for him when they are encouraged by the cunning, though adoringly beguiling likes of you.

“Minerva” 

 a Time-Travel story

Sirius Black x Minerva McGonagall 

Because it is @hiddenbookshop‘s birthday! I, by a wonderful coincidence, saw her response to this ask; telling her weirdest ship for Sirius is Minerva. Here it is birthday girl! 

Many Happy Returns!


Sirius Black woke up in the middle of the cobbled streets of Hogsmeade. He stood up, his wand still in his hands and looked at himself. He remembered being in the Department of Mysteries; fighting next to Harry. He remembered the eerie feeling being so near to the Veil…

Then Bellatrix showed up. She had stunned him.

Did I fall through the Veil?

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send a number and a pair for a drabble
  1. “Come back!” 
  2. “Please, just stop talking.” 
  3. “I just want to see you smile…” 
  4. “I can’t believe you believed me!” 
  5. “Wake up!” 
  6. “God, just shut up!” 
  7. “Stop looking at me like that, it’s your fault anyway.” 
  8. “What, nothing?” 
  9. “You look exhausted.” 
  10. “Come here, you need a hug.”
  11. “No, you don’t get a choice.” 
  12. “I’m coming over.” 
  13. “Do you want to be alone?”
  14. “Open the door!” 
  15. “Tell me the truth.” 
  16. “You lied to me!”
  17. “I thought I could trust you.”
  18. “What am I to you?”
  19. “You… you used me.” 
  20. “Say something!” 
  21. “Stop doing this to yourself.” 
  22. “Oh… don’t cry…” 
  23. “Stop, please!” 
  24. “You never loved me, you loved what I could give you.” 
  25. “I don’t want to be alone.” 
  26. “Do you hate me, too?” 
French Kiss

Pairing: Klance
Note: Had to end it with my otp of the show. I know I didn’t do ALL my ships I ship, but I did the ones that are probably most widely accepted hahaa… ANYWAYS HAPPY VALENTINES DAY, I HOPE Y’ALL HAD A GOOD ONE, all kiss fics i did today can be found here, but be warned, i’m a multishipping deviant so, its not all just klance



“Can I just… try something?”

Keith’s heart pounded, his whole body throbbing in time to his pulse. He watched Lance through hooded lashes, nodding as the other licked his lips and ducked his head back in, their lips slotting together.

The two of them had formed this strange, kissing buddy status - where they were friends, occasionally, but they practiced kissing. Well, Lance called it practice, saying he’d eventually want to kiss girls, but Keith… Keith wasn’t sure why he had agreed, but he was glad he did. Because kissing was nice, and kissing Lance was actually really enjoyable. He had soft lips and often took the lead, making Keith feel relaxed - which wasn’t very often.

He hummed against those soft lips, feeling Lance shiver and then there was something warm and wet against his lips, sliding inside and oh… ohh.

Lance’s tongue shied its way in, rubbing against his softly, caressing and teasing and oh, my god… Keith had thought kissing was good earlier, it was amazing now.

Lance must have thought so too because he groaned openly into Keith’s mouth, his tongue becoming more fevered, rubbing and tangling with Keith’s.

Keith was sure he drooled a little just now, as he tried to keep up with Lance’s tongue, he was swallowing spit - his or Lance’s, probably both, he didn’t care, he just wanted to keep kissing, keep feeling this wonderful feeling.

Unfortunately, they both needed to breath - breaking the kiss with a soft pop, a string of saliva snapping between their lips as they both breathed each others breath, their faces close.

“Whoa.”

Keith let out a shaky laugh to that, his hands reach up, caressing over Lance’s cheeks and moving back to card through his hair at the base of his skull.

“Yeah.”

He pulled him for another kiss, sealing their lips began. Lance moaned, opening up for Keith this time.

Keith could get use to this and do it all the time.

After all, practice makes perfect.

Dream Come True - Baekhyun Drabble

Originally posted by baekhyuntella

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader
Genre: So much fluff
Word Count: 881
Request: Ur writings are too good srsly the baekhyun scenarios are just 👌🏻 so could I please have a baekhyun scenario where he comes home after a long day at the studio and wants to cuddle and talk about deep life etc and can it be a little bit suggestive/smutty? (Not extreme lol) If not all good xxx

A/N: First off, thank you so much! I kinda used this as a way to get myself out of this crippling writer’s block, so sorry if it’s not that great/long etc… Either way, I hope you enjoy!


Midnight.

With a quick glance at your phone, you realized the time. It wasn’t odd for Baekhyun to come home late - especially while preparing for yet another comeback - but he was typically home by now. You tried to swallow the tinge of worry that crept into your mind as you flipped through the channels on the television; a blanket tangled loosely around your bare legs that were sprawled out on the sofa.

“He’s fine, Y/n, just busy,” you muttered to yourself in an attempt to calm your nerves.

When a decently appealing show flashed across the screen, you set the remote down and pulled the blanket up your torso. A deep inhale revealed the faint smell of Baekhyun’s cologne to your nose—most likely from his shirt that was draped over your frame. When your boyfriend did come home tonight, you knew he’d be pleased to see you dressed simply in his shirt and a pair of panties, snuggled up on the couch with messy hair and all.

As if he read your mind, the sound of his key turning the bolt lock open caused you to jump. A smile stitched onto your face as you turned your head toward the entrance; yet it quickly dropped when you were met with his slouching, obviously overworked frame.

“I’m home,” he stated bluntly, voice drained of its typical joyous ring.

Without a response, you stood from your spot to wrap your arms around the boy’s neck. Placing a gentle peck to his cheek, nose, and finally lips. The sound of his bag dropping to the floor caught your attention before two strong limbs snaked themselves around your waist, returning the embrace. You felt a hand feather across your ass; a slight gasp emitting from Baekhyun’s lips when it did. Before you could explain, his hand was groping at the plush flesh, eliciting a gasp from yourself this time. Looking up you noticed a slight smirk dressed on the boy’s lips to replace the drooping frown, and a smile curved onto your lips at the sight.

“I knew you’d be happy to see me like this,” you confessed.

“You know me so well, don’t you?”

With that, he swept you off your feet and planted you on the couch. All past tiredness seeming to flee from the boy as he crawled on top of you. That is until he collapsed on your chest; legs tangled in yours as he flipped you on top of him instead. He always insisted on being the big spoon. Always. A tentative hand brushed the stray hairs from your eyes before he planted a sly kiss to your forehead.

“Tell me about your day,” he mumbled.

A small giggle escaped your lips, “I haven’t done anything interesting, Hyun…”

“Okay, tell me how you wish your day had gone.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly, pushing your head up so they met his own.

“What do you mean by that?” You questioned.

“I mean,” he paused and ran a few delicate fingers through your fluffy hair, “tell me how you wish life would have played out today; play God in a way. If you had control over time and could start today over again, what would you have done?”

It wasn’t unusual for you to have these kinds of conversations, especially when it was late at night. As a member of Exo, he’s known by fans for being a funny and loud person. Yet you knew a secret side to him; one that only the closest people in his life knew. Baekhyun has a very deep and philosophical mind, one that wants to talk about the probability of reincarnation, aliens, and even this.

“Well, first I would have stopped you from going to work today. It hurt my heart to see you so tired walking in the door,” you stated, earning a chuckle from the boy below you. “What about you?”

He hummed, running a hand down your spine, “I think I would’ve come home for lunch instead of going out. Your cooking is way better than take-out.”

A smile curved on your lips again, he somehow always fit a compliment into every conversation you had.

“You know you’re the love of my life, right?” He added, catching you slightly by surprise.

It wasn’t rare for Baekhyun to display his adoration for you. He always reminded you of how much he loves you, yet this time felt so… Different.

“I know,” you replied, “and you’re mine.”

He chuckled and you could hear his heart rate speed up from your confession, causing your smile to widen.

“Do you know that I’ve dreamed about this moment for my entire life? Lying here on the couch with my lover, talking about life after a long day. Y/n, you’ve made my dreams come true.”

Now it was your turn for your heart to pound. Something was different tonight, there was a new rawness in your relationship. A new realization of how pure and intense your love truly is. In a quiet moment like this where no one’s around. Just you, your boyfriend, and the sound of hearts beating as one. This is love.


-Admin Yeonie

On the couch – Hansol

Pairing: Hansol x Reader

Genre: slight smut (drabble)

Word Count: 261 words

Drabble request: 1, 7 and 16 smut and fluff for Hansol from Seventeen please!

“Cuddles!”, “This position, isn’t that comfortable”” and “Did you just moan my name?”

I don’t know seventeen that well, but I hope this is what you were looking for!


“Cuddles!” Hansol pounced on you while you were sitting on the couch. He’d finally gotten a break for a few days so you two decided to hang out together and watch movies.

“You’re crushing me!” You laughed as he pulled himself off you with a sorry.

“What movie are we watching?” you asked as you repositioned yourself with your legs over his. “Well, since you’re not a fan of superheros, I’ve decided we’re watching Iron Man.”

“Isn’t he a supe–”

“Nope! Shh, it’s starting.” You rolled your eyes with a small smile and turned your attention to the front, one superhero movie shouldn’t be that bad right? The movie wasn’t that bad, but your butt started losing feeling from sitting down in that position for a while and your legs started getting pins and needles.

“Babe?” Hanson hummed back, his attention still on the television though.

“I can’t feel my ass. This position isn’t all that comfortable.” Hansol stopped the movie and took the popcorn off his lap, pulling you onto his lap instead. “Better?”

“Yeah, thanks.” He placed a kiss to your head before you both continued to watch the movie. After twenty or so minutes, you felt something pressed up against your back. “Hansol…?”

“Please, stop moving Y/N…” He moaned lowly, eyes closed.

“Did you just moan my name, babe?” you smirked, “What if I don’t stop?” you turned around and straddled his lap, slowly beginning to rock your hips against his growing bulge.

Fuck, princess. Bedroom?”

“Let’s change it up a little, right here, on the couch.”

Originally posted by vernon---baby

drabble requests & fic requests are open, feedback is appreciated :)

Yes, yes, yes!! This starts off with some Asahi sadness, but I promise Daichi and Suga take good care of him. (Also, to the anon who requested AsaDaiSuga smut, I am working on that! I’ve been having some serious smut-writer’s block, but I will get there…give me all the excuses to write these threeee.) Thanks for the prompt, and Happy Valentine’s to everyone ❤ 

(A little bit of gentle nsfw after the cut)


“I failed,” Asahi says, eyes locked on his hands where they hang between his knees, clasped tightly together. “Like, I actually failed.”

Suga wraps his arms around broad shoulders, leaning into Asahi’s back. He’s sitting behind him on the edge of their bed, knees spread on either side of his hips. “You didn’t,” he says.

“No, I did,” Asahi says. “The clock was so loud and all I could think was that so many minutes were passing. I couldn’t focus, and I didn’t…I didn’t even answer the last three questions.”

Keep reading

Masterlist

Mobile friendly! Links for series go to first part only, and then the continuations are at the end of the each part! If any one of them has a problem, please let me know! Reminder that most works contain smut. Often contain gifs. Some are suggestive. Read responsibly. Enjoy!

Supernatural

Sister Zoned series (Dean x Reader) - Twelve Parts/Completed

Love How You Hate Me series (Sam x Reader) - Thirty One Parts/Completed

Ruined series (Dean x Reader) - Six Parts/Completed

Convention Drabble (No pairings) - One Shot

I Don’t Want To Miss A Thing (Dean x Reader) - One Shot

Get Well (Sam x Reader) - One Shot

Glass Girl (Dean x Reader) - One Shot

Alive (Dean x Reader) - Two Parts

Shattered (Dean x Reader) - Two Parts

Can’t Forget You (Sam x Reader) - One Shot

Heathens mini series (Demon!Dean x Soulless!Reader) - One part to go!

Topless (Dean x Reader) - One Shot

Hello, Officer… (Sam x Reader) - One Shot

Human Nature (Castiel x Reader X Sam) - One Shot

Come Get Me (Sam x Reader) - One Shot

Horses and a Hunter (Sam x Reader) Series - Ongoing

My Fallen Angel (Castiel x Reader) - One Shot

Earl of Winchester (Dean x Reader) - New series

The Princess and Her Knight (Dean x Reader) - One Shot

Broken Promises (Dean x Reader) - One Shot

Citizen’s Soldier (Sam x Reader AU) - New Series

Fuck Away The Pain (Dean x Reader) -  One Shot

Hot Mess (Sam x Reader) - Upcoming One Shot

The Weight (Cas x Reader) - One Shot

Actions Speak Louder Than Words (Mild Sam x Reader) - One Shot

Sharing Can’t Be Wrong… (Dean x Reader x Sam) - One Shot

Some Surprises Are Good (No Pairing) - One Shot

Phone Drabbles - On going

Paradise Is Lost series (No pairings) - Cancelled series/ Drabble

Other

Intoxicated, I Love You series (Dean Winchester x Reader x Steve Rogers/Captain America) -  Cancelled. Sorry y’all. I just can’t write Steve’s character up to par…

Jack Frost - To Be Continued

Bittersweet Affections (Klaus x Reader) - To Be Continued

Wicked Wolf (Dyson x Reader) - One Shot

Hell’s Bells (Bellamy x Reader) - One Shot

PhannieMay16: The Foleys

Tucker Foley did not believe in love at first sight. Love was an emotion that grew over time and strengthened as life went on. Sure, you can see someone and think that they’re cute, but you wouldn’t want to marry that person and have a family together right then and there. You’ll want to have a few dates, maybe kiss a time or five, and slowly realize that you wouldn’t want to spend the rest of your life with anyone else. That you’re incomplete until they came along.

It didn’t matter the gender, the orientation, or even if there was more than one person. Love took time.

Maybe he believed that because of his parents. Ever since he was small he would listen to his parents renact their college love story, and he could see in their eyes that they truly loved each other.

They met in college. They were in the same classes despite having different majors, and became study buddies. Then one day they both got trapped in a building during a blizzard and spent the night telling stories and holding hands.

Maybe he thought it was sweet because he hear it so many times. Maybe he really like cheesy stories. Maybe because it had an eerie resemblance to his own love story.

He had been friends with Danny since they were both in diapers. He always thought Danny was beautiful, but in that familiar way where you were expecting your friend to look like nothing else.

But something changed. Danny’s hair, no matter what color, would fall beautifully over his forehead. How his eyes would reflect any light, no matter how dark the room was. How they would shimmer a dangerous green whenever anyone tried to bully Tucker. How his hands were never still unless they were clasped around Tucker’s. How his lips were always dry because of flying at high speeds and never bothering to use chapstick.

Oh god he was such a sap.