#drabble game

[euphoricfilter]

omg you’re sooo sweet!! I love your writing and it amazes me how you intend to just do a small drabble but it’s always series worthy & ik that’s not what you plan but that’s how interesting your stories get🥹 but I have so many ideas for the “how time has changed you” couple (you don’t have to do them all or at all, just a few ideas) but maybe you can tell us more about how they met, how she fought him and how he finally got her into Stockholm syndrome, and maybe some smut along the way either right before she fell into Stockholm syndrome so (dubcon/somno) or after and their just so thirsty for each other 😮‍💨

it’s all in your head:

pairing: yandere! yoongi x f. reader

genre: more angst than fluff || mafia au || yandere au || non-idol au

summary: you're the one that let yourself fall

word count: 2.1k

tags/ warnings: kidnapping, implied stockholm syndrome, unintentional mind break/ mentioned disassociation, mentions of minor injuries (bruises)

notes: chronologically happens before ‘how time has changed you’ but i think reading hthcy first is probably better ~ drabble requests closed (peep the gorillaz reference in the title) also!!! thank you??? you're sweet too my love <3 and thank you so much for taking the time out of your day to read my stuff??

drabble masterlist || my main masterlist

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Human beings are flawed in design. And somewhere, mingled between all the self-loathing thoughts, somewhat of a god complex had formed. 

You wouldn’t ever tell anyone, hot embarrassment too much to handle, but truly you felt as though you were untouchable. Like the universe had a secret little rule written somewhere in the stars that luck was always on your side. 

It had been a harsh slap to the face when reality had settled in. It was strange how for days you’d been watching yourself from outside of your body. Someone so familiar yet so different, who had your face, your mannerisms, everything so very you; yet she’d fallen into the claws of a beast. No longer exempt from the evils of the world. 

While you covered your ears at the incessant banging at the bedroom door, you from the real world simply curls up further into herself. 

You were aware that your captor wasn’t going to open the door. You hadn’t exactly been the kindest in your first few days here, more than a few bruises littering his skin from your outbursts. Sticky guilt seizing your body when you’d catch a glimpse of his arms painted purple from an unjust kick, because somehow you knew he never had plans to touch you if it wasn’t on your own terms. 

The little control you had over your life in the form of a lock and key. Yoongi had found himself more than worried when you wouldn’t even open the door for food, never below begging for you to come out even if only briefly because really your health was the most important thing. 

Through prickly thoughts of impossible escape and wallowing in self-pity, you’d tried to figure out where you’d met Yoongi. Because even if you had come across thousands of faces between meeting him, surely you wouldn’t forget eyes like his. A thousand secrets hidden behind eyes almost as black as the night sky; eyes that would have no problem picking you apart with nothing but a single glance. 

He seemed to know you quite well. Seemingly knowing small, insignificant things about you. Favourite foods, snacks you’d always seem to eye when you’d wander into a convenience store of an evening. Every little hobby you’d picked up in the last six months stacked on a coffee table. Clothes you’d been eyeing online for weeks, sat in a basket that truly you had no intention of buying; a faraway dream that’s not as far as it seems. 

A prison disguised as a perfect bedroom. And as much as the bed had looked tempting, silk duvet sure to do wonders for your skin and blankets that were made of velvet; you hadn’t dared fall asleep. Not until your body had begged for rest and you’d spend an hour napping on the woollen rug, only to be woken by a tray of food being slipped through the door. 

The first time you become somewhat aware of your physical body again is when Yoongi doesn’t show up one morning. Doesn’t tell you stories of his life, doesn’t sit there as you stare at your food; praying that he would leave you alone. That he’d let you go, or at least answer the questions that have you falling into an endless hole of hysteria. 

You shower. A rushed ordeal because you didn’t know when Yoongi would return. And then you’d fallen asleep on the rug until the sun had dipped below the horizon and Yoongi had made himself comfortable outside your door again. 

You’d tried to run, dreams of a world so far out of your grasp dying in your hands as you stand there only to find heavy footsteps that stalked the halls, a brutal reminder that you wouldn’t get very far even if you tried. 

The windows didn’t open, you’d tried that. Too scared to try and smash them open, sure they were specially made– impossible to break. 

You’d lost all concept of time. Days bleeding into nights. Hours melting into one another. Where seconds are nothing more than fine dust, something you relied on truly nothing but a concept. Unattainable no matter how long you tried to count each minute or guess the day of the week. Every day is a repeat of the last. The only difference would be what Yoongi would talk about, gravelly voice ricocheting throughout your mind until you lay there awake hours after he’d gone to bed, replaying everything he’d told you that evening. 

You’re not sure when it happens, but you start to expect Yoongi. Knowing that when delicate orange light spills into your room from the window, the sky the prettiest shade of pink, he’d be there. 

Yoongi never opened the door. Voice bold enough that you can hear everything he says, walls thin enough that you can hear each deep sigh that passes through his lips when he talks about certain things that irk him just that little bit. 

When Yoongi talked, and you listened, the world was shrouded in darkness. And you simply floated, merely existed. No expectations, not that you knew of anyways. And maybe he had a hidden agenda, something a little more sinister lurking behind airy words that silenced every niggling thought in your mind that kept you awake every night. 

You don’t think much of it when Yoongi doesn’t show up one evening. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d have done this. Sure to come tomorrow morning with a plate full of cake, maybe those cookies that you liked; way too expensive for you to ever splurge on. Hot chocolate or sweet tea, you’re unsure though he seems to decide based off the weather, and so you’ll have to see what a new day brings you before you hazard a guess. 

And so, you deal with the silence of the bedroom for one evening. 

By the second day of silence, you’d found yourself staring at the door again, every little creak of the floorboards in the hallway causing you to perk up. Tips of your fingers burning as you dig your nails into the carpet, feet tapping against the floor, bottom lip chewed between your teeth. Every passing hour of deafening silence tugging you further and further into a spiral. 

Without Yoongi’s voice your thoughts had amplified. 

You hadn’t been here long in retrospect, a month? Maybe a little more. Surely he hadn’t already gotten sick of you? How pitiful would that be? The very man who had shown an inkling of an obsession was already done with you. 

Day four, and you’re sat by the door, startling one of the maids who had come to give you breakfast. 

You bang your head against the wall once she closed it, the tray kicked away from you as frustrated tears cling to your lashes. Something suffocating grabbing onto your neck, a phantom hand cutting off your air as you tug at your hair. 

Self-pity is a terrible thing. An ugly emotion mutating into something a little worse until you can physically feel the sadness, tugging at your temples in the form of a headache, salty cheeks, tight with tears, or a heart that feels infinite times heavier compared to the ache of rocky blue sadness. 

As the sun rises on the sixth day, you decide to keep the bedroom door open, in hopes that a breeze from the open windows downstairs would carry some of the wretched thoughts that wouldn’t leave you alone no matter how hard you tried to drown them out. 

You’d tried washing them down the drain, scalding hot shower only burning your skin, red-raw and tender to touch– physical twinge of pain still not enough to make the world silent. 

You’d sat in front of the CD player for an hour before you’d flicked through piles of plastic cases to find a song you liked. And you hadn’t been all that surprised to find they were all your favourite artists. You’d only managed to blast one song before you’d kept the volume down, always listening out for all the little noises outside the room. 

On the seventh day, you’d sat in the doorway of the bedroom, legs tucked up to your chest. You’d only made brief eye contact with the herculean man standing opposite your door before you’d retreated back into your own mind. Because as much as it was tempting, you wouldn’t dare ask where Yoongi was, sickly hatred still gnawing away at the back of your mind. 

On the eighth day, one of the maids had asked if you wanted to take a stroll in the garden; that hauling yourself up in the bedroom all day isn’t healthy. And something inside of you had fallen out of place. So completely out of character, you couldn’t recognise yourself. 

You’d started flinging pillows and blankets off the bed at Yoongi’s staff, unsure if what was coming out of your mouth was words of sobs or shaky little cries. Your body seemingly moves on its own, free will fizzling in your hands as you act on impulse.

“What’s all this?” 

You stop, hiccuping as Yoongi stands in the doorway, blurry; veiled by tears that cling to wet lashes. 

“Out. All of you” 

You wipe your cheeks with the back of your hands, knees cushioned by long-forgotten blankets as you drop to the floor. Footsteps of those scuttling out of the room drowned out by the thumping of your heart in your ears. 

Yoongi runs his thumb over his bottom lip, your shoulder shaking as you swallow down another sob. 

He crouches, still far enough away from you. 

“What’s all this about, darling?” he soothes. 

“I hate you. I hate you so much” you kick at the blankets underneath you, “first you fucking take me without asking–” 

“It’s for your own good” he shakes his head, “I did it for you”

“Bullshit” you laugh, “Normal people don’t do this” 

“You and I come from two very different worlds, baby” 

You push the palms of your hands into the sockets of your eyes, “I wouldn’t know. I don’t know you” 

Yoongi hums, gentle as he takes a step forward, slow so you can see he merely wants to be closer, “But I know you” 

“And that makes it okay for you to act like you care and then leave for days?” 

He blinks, “Is that what this is about?” a laugh bubbling up his throat, “You were lonely, is that it? Because you could have asked for me and I would have come straight home for you” 

“Huh?” your eyebrows crease, and your eyes meet his own, “that’s not–” 

“Not what?” he tilts his head, something acutely mocking in his gaze, “Not you waiting for me? Not you slowly losing yourself to your wretched little mind? Always overthinking, so caught up in your own head. I have eyes and ears everywhere– I know every little thing you’ve been doing over the last week” 

You swallow, “I hate you” 

“Lying is bad, you know?” he hums, “It’s okay to let go sometimes. It’s okay to admit you can’t do things alone.” 

You shake your head. 

“No?” 

“You weren’t here. I was alone.” 

“I’m here now. I’ll always be here for you” 

Yoongi thinks people have pre-established ideals about him because of his job. Brute force and terror had never been something he wanted to instil in you. Never wanting to wear you down, pull you so far into the darkness that you stray away from the essence of your being. He loved you as you were and simply wanted you to see eye-to-eye with him. 

He hadn’t expected you to fall so soon. Had prepared to wait many more months if it meant he could have you where he wanted you. 

It’s endearing, how much control you seem to think you have over your own thoughts. The mind is ever so fragile, and truly, we are our own worst enemies. And maybe that’s what he found so fascinating about you. Wanting to weave his way into your own world, stuck inside your own head, so many thoughts and so many ugly feelings that he’d love to just wash away. 

And to just watch you find the little piece of freedom from your own awful mind. A fucked up hero that saved you from your own hysteria, because as much as you liked to think you were the one in control, he could see it. Watched as each day you slowly started to lose yourself. 

And Yoongi will never say it, will never take the prize of you sinking into his grasp, because you’d brought yourself here. And he assumes you’ll only continue to sink further and further until all you know is him; the way it’s supposed to be. 

And very soon, he knows the two of you will find something special.

🧸 thank you for reading!!

#bts fanfic #bts fic #bts angst #yoongi imagine #yoongi fic #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #bts non idol au #bts mafia fic #bts yandere #yandere yoongi #yoongi #bts #yoongi angst #bts imagines #drabble game

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Congratulations on 3K! 🎉🎉

Pastry + Bradley Bradshaw

Thank you so much, love!! And thank you for sending this in :D

3k Celebration Mini Drabbles

“Quick, kiss me!” you say hurriedly, grabbing your friend’s arm and wheeling him around so that he's facing you.

Bradley stares at you in alarm, half an éclair sticking out of his mouth.

“Chew faster!” you hiss.

Bradley furrows his brows, swallowing the rest of the pastry with a cringe. “That last bite would’ve been much more enjoyable if you didn’t rush me,” he says.

“Damn it, Bradshaw! Hide me!” You tuck yourself in between Bradley and the coffee bar.

“From what?” Bradley starts to look around.

You hastily grab his face in your hands. “Don’t look!”

Bradley watches you as you blink at him profusely. “Are you okay?” he asks, his speech garbled from the way you’re squeezing his cheeks.

“My ex is heading this way and I don’t want to talk to him.” Bradley tries to turn his head again, but you hold his face in place forcefully. “I said don’t look.”

“How can I protect you if I don’t know what he looks like?” he asks.

“I don’t need you to protect me, I need you to kiss me.”

Bradley’s gaze drops down to your mouth. He gulps uneasily and his eyes flit up to meet your gaze. “Are you sure?”

You grimace because suddenly your somewhat goofy friend, Bradley Bradshaw, looks kind of cute, and this revelation throws off your entire plan. “No, scratch that,” you say.

“Here,” Bradley says, dusting crumbs from his hands. He wraps his big arms around you and effectively hides your entire upper body from view.

You lean your head into his chest, the rhythm of his beating heart soothing your anxiety. He sways you slightly from side to side, resting his face on top of your head.

Then, just as you start to think that maybe you’re going to get away with not having to talk to your ex, the barista calls out your name. Bradley chuckles into your hair but keeps one hand over your head as he raises his arm. “Yep, that’s me!” he calls.

3k celebration

#bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fluff #rooster fluff #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw drabble #rooster imagine #rooster drabble #top gun imagine #top gun drabble #top gun fluff #coffee shop #ask game #drabble game #miles teller imagine #miles teller x reader #miles teller fic #rooster bradshaw #rooster x you #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader

[dollopheadsandclotpoles]

merthur 54?

Here you go, anon! Piping hot angsty merthur just for you :)

“I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. That’s the problem.”

For years, Merlin tried to imagine what it would be like when Arthur found out about his magic. 

He had a plethora of different imagined scenarios - ones in which Arthur noticed his eyes growing gold as he protected him, ones in which Arthur noticed him struggling with a problem and confronted him about what he was really hiding, ones in which someone told Arthur the truth and Merlin was forced to come clean. 

But the one image he returned to time and time again, was one in which he confessed first. 

It was the way Merlin wanted it to happen. Just the two of them in the woods, going off on an adventure or returning to Camelot. He liked to picture them sitting around a campfire, the smoke curling around freshly cooked meat. Merlin would look Arthur in the eye and take a deep breath and finally muster the courage to tell him the truth. 

Arthur… I have magic. 

He spent the long, boring hours of the day when he was mucking out the stables or polishing armour, simply imagining words he would use, how he would explain himself. But as the years passed, the dreamt admittance grew harder to say, and as his bond with the prince deepened, the fantasised words grew heavier and more tender. 

Arthur’s response varied too, from immediate acceptance, to anger and hesitation, to wounded pride. But it always ended in the same place - with hatred. As soon as it got there, the fantasy would end. Merlin remembered then, why he could never tell Arthur the truth. As much as it hurt to keep his secret, he couldn’t bear the idea of Arthur hating him. 

And so a secret it stayed. It was safer that way. 

But even Merlin’s million different imagined scenarios could not have predicted the real thing. 

Merlin could sense something was off when he came to Arthur’s chambers and noticed the Prince sitting quietly by the window, his face drawn and grim. Ever since Morgana’s betrayal and Uther’s subsequent withdrawal, Arthur had been lapsing into long moody silences at various times in the day, but this silence felt different. It was weighty, and yet charged, somehow. 

Merlin hung up the white shirt that had been freshly pressed for Arthur’s meeting with Bayard’s envoy, and pulled out the scroll Agravaine had given him. 

“Arthur-,” Merlin began, but he was cut off when Arthur spoke, his voice a sharp scrape in the still air of the room. 

“It’s My Lord or Sire to you,” he said. There was a tautness to his voice, like a lute string about to snap. 

Merlin froze. This was something more than Arthur’s usual haughty irritation. He took a moment to collect himself, forcing brightness into his tone. “Alright, sire. The envoy from Bayard’s Kingdom has arrived, and so-”

Before Merlin could finish, the scroll was snatched out of his hand. Arthur didn’t meet his eye as he read the schedule Agravaine had penned down for him. There was a tenseness in the set of his jaw. Merlin’s throat felt dry. 

He knew that look. Arthur was furious. And worse… he was furious at Merlin. 

What had Merlin done? He racked his mind, but could come up with no answers. Arthur had been fine last night, when Merlin had set out his chamber pot and blown out all the candles. He’d been chatting away quite contentedly about the council meeting and about the speech he had to write, and Merlin had hummed along in agreement to his questions. What had changed since then? What had he missed?  

Arthur was still looking at the scroll when he spoke next. “You’re dismissed.” 

“To do what?” 

“You’re dismissed for the day.” 

Merlin scoffed, loudly. Arthur had to be joking. The day had just started. Arthur had barely given him so much as a half-day off since he’d started working for him. The only exception had been days when Merlin was injured or practically dying. 

“What are you talking about?” Merlin said, trying to infuse a nonchalance to his tone that he didn’t feel. “There’s a lot to do today! Are you saying you’re going to do it on your own?” 

“Thomas is going to take over your duties for the day.” 

“Thomas!?” Arthur’s old servant had taken to doing jobs in the kitchen and seemed happier for it. Why was he replacing Merlin all of a sudden? 

“And where am I going?” Merlin asked. He was more pissed-off than confused now, anger settling in his gut like silt at the bottom of an ocean. 

“Home. To Ealdor.” 

It was like a slap to the face. Merlin open and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. 

“You’re sending me away?” he managed, finally. The disbelief in his tone was clear. Arthur turned to him, his eyes blazing. Their eyes finally met and Merlin saw it there - an unfamiliar look. It was a wariness… a distance. Not since their first week together had he seen Arthur look at him like that, like he was a stranger. 

“The knights will escort you out-”

“For what reason?” Merlin demanded. “What have I done?” 

“I’ll have word sent to Gaius…” 

“Do not do this to me Arthur. Tell me what I’ve done wrong!” 

“I saw you,” Arthur snapped. “This morning, with Lancelot. You spilled something on my shirt and then…” He stopped and swallowed. “I saw you.” 

The world turned sharply to the left, sending Merlin dangerously off-kilter. 

He’d been rushing down the corridor when he’d bumped into one of the kitchen staff. A pitcher had overturned, staining Arthur’s shirt with wine. Lancelot had suggested he used his talents to fix the problem… 

His magic. Arthur had seen him use magic.

All his imagined scenarios, all his practised words, all fell into ash. 

“Arthur, I can explain…” 

“Go on then, tell me another one of your lies.” 

The story Merlin was spinning dried up on his tongue. Arthur was looking at him with so much pain in his eyes that Merlin could hardly stand it.

“Do you deny it?” Arthur asked. 

The air in the room suddenly felt far too thin. 

“No,” Merlin whispered. 

Arthur laughed. It was a laugh more of disbelief than anything else, but it felt sharp. Cruel. Merlin had to blink back tears. 

“You have to get out.” 

“Just like that?” 

“I can’t be served by someone who has magic.” 

“Well you have been for almost 8 years,” Merlin spat. 

Arthur’s voice was dispassionate when he spoke, but Merlin could hear the strain under his words. He knew Arthur better than he knew himself. He was barely keeping it together. “My father will have you slaughtered if he finds out. You can’t stay here.” 

He was trying to protect him. Even now, even after knowing the truth… Arthur was trying to protect him. 

“Arthur…” Merlin said, and he reached out to him, unthinkingly. Arthur flinched away from the touch. And that’s when Merlin saw the crack in his unwavering facade. 

Fear.

Of all the reactions he’d expected from Arthur, he’d never even considered fear as an option. 

The lump in his throat grew big, painful. 

“You have to go,” Arthur said, and his voice shook a little. 

“At least let me explain!” Merlin said, with a force he didn’t feel. His heart felt like it was splintering into a hundred different pieces. 

Arthur’s voice was a rasp when he finally spoke. “I want you out by tonight.” 

  *  *  *  

The days that passed were some of the worst Merlin had ever been through. It was, in its way, a comfort to be back in Ealdor, back to the simple way of living and home to his mother’s affection, but the grief of everything that transpired between him and Arthur painted everything in paltry shades of gray. 

He was miserable, and his mother could see it. He was angry and he was hurting, but beneath all the righteous fury and the heartbreaking anguish was one simple fact. 

He missed Arthur. 

To be ripped from his side felt like losing a limb. He felt the ghost of him everywhere he went. Was that it? Was that the end? It couldn’t be. Destiny or no destiny, he wasn’t going to just lay down and let that be the end of everything they had been through together. But every time Merlin felt like taking a horse and riding back to Camelot as fast as he could go, he remembered the fear in Arthur’s eyes and stopped dead. 

That was what truly had hurt, that fear. Could Arthur really believe that he would hurt him? That he was someone to be afraid of? 

His mother tried to cheer him up, telling him that Arthur clearly cared about him, clearly wanted to protect him, clearly didn’t want him dead. But it was only a mild comfort. Did Arthur even care that he was gone? Or had his life continued as normal? Merlin replaced by Thomas like nothing had changed since the day they had met. 

The days passed by in a colourless blur until one night when he was rudely shaken from his sleep. He sat up, groggy, to find Hunith above him, holding up a lantern. 

“Mum? What is-”

“You have a visitor,” she whispered. 

Merlin turned towards the doorway. He couldn’t see a face, just a cloaked shadow standing a little way from the house. Even then, he knew. His pulse quickened in his wrist. 

Taking the lantern from his mother, he walked outside. The moon was still high in the sky and the darkness had that peculiar, late night inkiness to it. Arthur had the hood of his cloak pulled all the way up so his face was shrouded in shadows. His horse was nowhere in sight. 

“Arthur…” 

Before Merlin could say any more, Arthur turned and began walking. Merlin almost tripped over his own feet in an effort to catch up. 

“Slow down, you clotpole!” The words came out before he could stop them. Arthur paused briefly in his tracks before continuing, still not slowing. 

He took them out of the village, into the woods where a small campsite had been set-up. There, finally, he pulled off his hood and turned to face Merlin. Merlin leaned against a tree, wheezing. 

“Was this necessary?” he demanded. His heart was banging against his ribs so hard he thought they might break. 

He couldn’t believe Arthur was really there, in front of him. The moonlight on his golden hair, the shadows across his cheekbones. He looked ethereal and yet, so familiar. A face Merlin knew better than his own. 

“I wanted to speak to you… away from the village.” Arthur sat down on a log. He still didn’t seem to be meeting Merlin’s eye. Merlin felt a wave of frustration pass through him. Was he really going to keep playing at nonchalance? 

“Have you come to kill me?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Merlin.” 

“I’m being ridiculous? You’re the one who just sent me away without even letting me explain! Do you hate me that much?” 

“I don’t hate you!” Arthur snapped. “I could never hate you! That’s the problem!”

His words echoed in the silent woods. Merlin fell silent. For a moment, all he could hear were their twin, juddering breaths, perfectly in sync. A strange feeling was filling up inside him. It was overwhelming and painful, but it felt a lot like joy. 

“I didn’t know what to do,” Arthur continued, his voice finally betraying weeks of pent-up hurt and desperation. “I thought I knew you, and then to find that out… to find out that you…” he gestured at the air. 

“You do know me,” Merlin managed. 

Arthur shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “I was angry, I was scared, I was… upset. I had to think, I had to…” he breathed out, sharply, through his nose. “You know what my father would’ve done. He would have had you burned at the stake.” 

“So you sent me away…” 

“Yes I sent you away to protect you, you idiot,” Arthur snapped. He stood up and began pacing the small clearing. “But it turns out, sending you away was far more suspicious than anything else I could’ve done.” 

Merlin raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean?” 

“No one believed me when I said I fired you,” Arthur grumbled. “After years of being the worst servant known to man, no one believed I’d send you away for anything less than… murder.” 

Despite himself, Merlin felt the urge to laugh. What came out instead was a strange, desperate sob. Arthur turned to him, his eyes conflicted. 

“Yes well, you are helpless without me,” Merlin muttered. “I’m surprised you’ve managed to stay alive in all these weeks.” 

“And I’m surprised you’ve stayed alive all these years! You told my father and his entire council you were a sorcerer, for crying out loud!” 

“They were going to kill Gwen!” 

“You really are a complete idiot, aren’t you Merlin!” Arthur threw his arms wide. “You were almost caught out by the witchfinder!” 

Despite the tears, Merlin couldn’t stop the smile from creeping onto his face. “So where did you tell everyone I had gone?” 

“I said your mother was unwell, and you had gone home to take care of her.” 

Merlin swallowed. “You could tell them I’ve decided to stay. I could write a letter to Gaius-”

“I don’t want you to stay.” The words came out too quickly, like Arthur hadn’t meant to say them. 

Merlin blinked. The tears stuck to his eyelashes. “Is this… you asking me to come back?” 

Arthur ducked his head, and his voice was sullen when he spoke. “I’d be less worried about you if I could personally ensure you’re not actively trying to get yourself killed every minute of the day.”

“Arthur-” 

“And when I’m King, I’ll make sure you won’t have to live in fear again. I promise.” 

Merlin felt like his heart was going to burst.  

“Will you come back?” Arthur asked, and his voice suddenly sounded small and horribly fragile.   

Before Merlin could stop himself, he flung himself onto Arthur, arms wrapping around his broad frame. Arthur didn’t push him off or flinch away, instead he clutched Merlin back, his hand fisting in the fabric of his shirt, his face pressing into the side of his neck. 

"Dollophead," Merlin murmured into his shoulder.

The nightmare was over. He was home. 

#bbc merlin #drabble game #my writing #merthur #merlin x arthur #arthur x merlin #merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin fic #merthur fic #like this could be whatever flavour or merthur you prefer romantic or platonic or queerplatonic #honestly i personally love the show's magic reveal cause I feel like it had both the grand reveal and the intimate tender one #and i've written some magic reveals before so I was trying to do something a bit different with this #anyway I hope you enjoy it! #anonymous #ask

[back2bluesidex]

Hey Babygorl,

Fluff express is coming up.

Can you write a little Namjoon one where the reader is Namjoon's favourite author and they meet by accident in a book store. Like he didn't know who she was, (they started talking through some book they both read) and then he realises somehow.

Take your time :))

You're awesome. Fighting ✨

Pairing: idol!Namjoon X author!Reader

Word count: 900

Theme: Meet cute, and it's SFW

A/N: @phenomenalgirl9 here you go girl. But please note that I changed the storyline a bit since I don't know much about books. It was hard for me to put down any reference. Hope you enjoy it.

**************

"What do you mean it's sold out again?" Namjoon almost screams. He tries his best to keep his composure intact but he fails. He is not like this. Behaving out of budding anger isn't really a Namjoon thing but today he is losing it. 

This is his second visit to this bookstore, in which he is a valuable customer but this is also the second time he has failed to secure the copy of the book he has been waiting so long for. 

"Look miss, I pre-booked it. I understand that many of us couldn't secure a copy for the first round but it can't happen twice. I asked Mrs. Han to secure a copy for me. You can cross-check if you want." Namjoon says again, staring at the girl at the counter. She looks apologetic but helpless at the same time. 

"I am aware of it sir. Your copy was saved initially but-" she says. The girl is apparently debating on whether to spill the information or not. Maybe she settles for the later resolution but Namjoon is gonna press it out of her. 

"But what?" He emphasizes. 

"Um… it was actually given to a VIP customer. I am so sorry for your inconvenience sir. We will save you a copy as soon as the third lot arrives, along with a 20% discount." The girl bows again and again. But it doesn't soothe Namjoon's anger. 

He wants to say a lot.  For the first time in 10 years he wants to use his power, his fame. He wants to peel out his mask and bucket hat and tell them that he is The Kim Namjoon of BTS. But he can't. He is about to say something when the book he is fighting so hard for is placed on the counter along with some other books.

He glares at it.

If it was some other time, he would have let it slide. But it's one of the books he has been waiting for, written by one of his favourite authors of all time. It's the book for which he has managed time despite his crazy schedule, cycling all the way to the shop risking his privacy. He won't let it slide. Not this time. 

"That's my book." He says, voice low but something akin to anger dripping from it. 

"I am sorry? What?" The so-called VIP customer asks. He doesn't look at the owner of the voice. Keeping his eyes trained on the copy, he says, "I said that's my book which was sold to you because you are apparently a VIP customer." 

"I-is that true?" The voice asks and that's when Namjoon lifts his eyes and takes a look at you.

Your question is directed to the girl at the counter. She lowers her eyes and nods slowly. 

You sigh, "you should have told me so. I don't- ah leave it." 

And then you turn to face him and that's when he gets a good view of your full face.

You're pretty. Something in you screams natural. 

"I am so sorry you had to face this inconvenience because of me. I wasn't aware of the situation. You can have the book. And please let me pay for it. Consider it as an apology from me." You smile at him. 

"You don't-" he tries to say but

"Please?" You cut him off. He can't really say no to the eyes you are currently making at him. He finds himself nodding. Your smile becomes wider. 

Now he feels really bad for behaving like a stubborn kid earlier. 

"Ah-thanks." He says slowly while he tries to think of a way to apologise to you. 

"No, please don't thank me. It's me who should thank you for being so eager to read my book." You reply. 

Namjoon's eyebrows shoot above to reach his hairline, at the same time his jaw drops to the floor.

"What? Wait what? Your book? You- you are L/N Y/N?" He asks, the pitch of his voice tells of his excitement. 

"Ah yeah." You reply shyly, diverting your eyes from him. 

"That's why you are a VIP customer?" He asks again, it's still unbelievable. 

"I guess so?" You trail off. 

"Oh my! I am- I didn't know- let me! I just-" he is now hyper aware of the fact that he misbehaved with you a couple of minutes ago. 

"Hey hey. Calm down." You say, stepping a bit towards him, placing your hand on the side of his one arm, trying to calm him down. 

"I am extremely sorry, Miss. L/N. The way I behaved with you was totally unacceptable. Tell me how I can make it up to you?" Namjoon tries to make the situation better. 

You laugh as if it's no big deal. 

"Maybe you can buy me a coffee and tell me what you like the most about my books?" You say, there's a playfulness added to your voice. 

Did just one of his favourite authors ask him out for a friendly date? Well, what the fuck? 

"What do you say, Mr. Kim?" You press on and he realises he has been silent for a while. 

"Absolutely! If you have time we can go now." He says then pauses, "wait! You know who I am?" 

You smile again and head towards the exit with him following you closely. 

"Another crazy day at work." The girl at the counter sighs. 

******************

#bts fanfiction #bts x reader #namjoon x you #namjoon x reader #bts namjoon #kim namjoon #bts fanfic #bts drabble #drabble game #bts fluff

[moneneki]

Hello friend!

Pairing Drabble #5: Yuezula

Ooooooh nice!

Hope you like the result!

“You’ve been very busy these last few days.”

Azula was not startled at the voice, only because it took a good deal to startle her at all. It could also be because Princess Yue’s voice was so impossibly soft that it was simply impossible to register it as a threat.

No. That was not it. Her father had never screamed at her, yet she’d always been very alert when listening to him.

Azula shook those thoughts and sighed.

“I’m sorry I missed tea this afternoon. It’s all the fault of my brother’s legislative project,” she said, succumbing to the temptation and falling into a nearby chair. She took off her bracelet, one of Yue’s gifts for their first year together; the delicate carvings under her fingers always helped her relax. “There are so many layers protecting those outdated laws… I was dying to get out and come visit you.”

There was a tension in Yue’s smile that immediately sent Azula’s mind into override.

“You’ve spent a lot of time meeting with one of the lawyers,” Yue finally sat down too, in her usual chair. 

“Well yes, he’s one of the main experts in royal decrees of the Second Dynasty…”

There was the tiniest huff coming from Yue’s direction. Azula forgot everything about the legal puzzles as something clicked inside her mind, like a key turning inside a lock. She stopped fiddling with the bracelet.

“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

The Northern Water Tribe princess looked back at her, mouth agape, before blushing furiously. As furious as the glare she then directed to Azula.

“I will not dignify that nonsense with an answer.”

Azula could feel her smile growing into a grin.

“You already did. Who would have thought that the calm and collected Princess Yue could feel something like that?”

Yue got up from her chair in flustered indignation, but before she could say anything, Azula met her, placing both hands over her shoulders and looking at the –beautiful in their fury– blue eyes from the vantage point of her greater height.

“Don’t worry,” she whispered, lowering her face to the ear behind the white curls, and smiling once again at the shiver the whisper had provoked. “I am only yours.”

When she let go of Yue’s shoulders, there were no more recriminations, although the blush had intensified.

“Good,” was all Yue said, before busying herself with the teapot.

Good.

Yes, good indeed. Azula wouldn’t have it any other way.

#yuezula #yue x azula #moneneki #moneneki answers #drabble game

[boltlightning]

#23 cat

For Norrington and sparrow

23. cat

Norrington was not, apparently, the only scruffy beast dragged aboard the Pearl; from the streets of Tortuga, he and Elizabeth both had conspired to rescue an abandoned litter of kittens, and add them to the Pearl’s new ranks. “This was not exactly the sort of bright-eyed initiative I expected when I hired you, ex-Commodore,” Jack says flatly. Norrington, with a kitten dozing draped over his arm like some sort of exotic bracelet, says, with no fear or respect as is due Jack’s rank, “Nonsense, Captain,” — sneering this word, petulant wastrel — “these are loyal members of the crew, and can take care of the rat problem.” “And I assume these rats are…literal, yes, not a metaphorical bogeyman?” Norrington smiles without teeth, scritches the purring kitten under its wretchedly adorable chin, and says nothing.

send me a prompt, get a drabble ✨

#i could have been metaphorical about this but i will never pass up a chance to push my 'james collected stray cats as a kid' agenda #thank you friend!!! #*fic #drabble game #trevenbran #pirates of the caribbean #james norrington #jack sparrow

[euphoricfilter]

Jungkook and "I can't stop thinking about you." with the tiniest bit of angst with a fluffy ending. Thank you!!

rose tinted glasses:

pairing: idol! jungkook x f. reader

genre: fluff || angst || friends to lovers

summary: jungkook’s a patient man, and he’ll wait as long as you need to find him again.

word count: 1.1k

tags/ warnings: arguably mild angst, bad friends, maybe best bf kook, intended lowercase

notes: drabble game is closed <3 just a quick drabble that i will not overthink the quality of. it's an easy read one may argue.

drabble masterlist || my main masterlist

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

if you’d been the one looking at jungkook through rose tinted glass this whole time, then you wonder how the world views him.

personified perfection, the epitome of what a star should be. because in the world’s eyes, he lacked flaws.

there’s some sort of hidden rule the universe sets, that any input from family should mean something; it should mean everything. blood relations should always be held above everything else in life. they’re your family, of course they want what’s best for you.

it leaves you to wonder when the opinions of close friends had been held to the same standard. how you’d let yourself be swept up in their views of jungkook.

an acclaimed awful relationship, toxic, you should escape while you still can. crawl out of jungkook’s claws and save yourself before it’s too late.

you wonder when advice had become clear jealousy, lies they’d feed you over and over again until you’d been second guessing yourself. second guessing jungkook, when he’d truly tried his best to make your relationship work with so many outside factors interfering.

cameras acting as beady little eyes, scrutinizing him for things only human. digging into private affairs and overstepping inhumane boundaries.

jungkook was far from perfect, you knew that, they knew that— just not in the way they’d told you.

there had been nothing inherently wrong with what you had with jungkook. sure, you came from two completely different worlds, your job a lot less flashy, and arguably less successful than your (ex)boyfriend, but jungkook didn’t care.

because you liked him for him and that was really all he could ask you for. not when you sacrificed so much just to be with him.

nda forms, no public dates, weeks where he’d be abroad, too busy to call but too lonely not to leave you a heartfelt text about how much he missed you.

jungkook wasn’t selfish. you knew that. you’d always known that.

he hadn’t caged you. hadn’t locked the doors and fed the key to a beast where you couldn’t leave. fame hadn’t turned him into a monster— still very much human with human emotions and desires.

it’s a shame you’d let the pressure of those who were supposed to care about you ruin something so special.

the universe has funny ways of telling us things. just like how, if you and jungkook weren’t meant to be together, why was he all you saw. because your life would never be void of jungkook no matter how hard you tried to avoid him.

he was at a strange point in his career, every corner you turned, there he was. billboards, advertisements, his songs playing on the radio as you shop, coffee accompanied by the sweet melody of his voice. riding a steady wave of success with no clear end in sight.

you hadn’t called him for weeks, and he’d stopped leaving you messages on voicemail. perhaps he stopped caring. you wouldn’t blame him, could never blame him— probably swept up with a mountain of work, probably exhausted.

it takes you a month to realize that your misery was because of him. you’d been the one to end things, pressure of everyone finally getting to you. really you’d do anything to make the calls stop, the mean jabs over dinner or passive aggressive texts from friends.

lie after lie rotting your mind until you couldn’t take it anymore and you ran away from your problems.

maybe it was the silence of the evening. the way your friends had distanced themselves once you’d told them you’d stopped talking to jungkook; he was out of your life like they’d suggested. bitter betrayal squeezing your heart when you realize that isn’t what they wanted, because you were no use to them anymore if you had nothing to do with jungkook.

you’d been friends before lovers, their assumption being you’d just go back to being friends.

maybe it was the sticky solitude that had you roaming the streets gone midnight. in search of comfort, the only person you knew still had your back— who will always have your back no matter how big of a bitch you are.

you tug the sleeves of your hoodie further over your hands, tips of your fingers numb as you dial his apartment number.

you know he’s awake, hope slowly fizzling out the longer the door rings.

he doesn’t say anything, simply opening the door to the building. elevator taking an eternity to get to the lobby, even longer in taking you to the right floor.

jungkook’s stood at his door when you step out into the hallway, hair a little frizzy in the way it gets after he’s showered.

“hey�� he says, and you stay rooted in your spot.

“i can’t stop thinking about you” you blurt, his figure nothing more than a blur as tears glaze your eyes.

“i can’t stop thinking about you either, my love”

“i’m so sorry” you shake your head as jungkook steps out of his apartment.

“don’t apologize, it must have been hard for you” he hums, tucking your hair behind your ear as you wipe your cheeks with the backs of your hands.

“don’t do this” you hiccup.

“don’t do what?” he smiles, hands falling onto your hips, gentle as he tugs you closer to his body.

“you’re too nice, you can’t be like this after what happened”

“nothing happened” jungkook shakes his head, taking a step backwards, pulling you along with him until you’re both in the warm of his apartment.

“i said some really mean things”

“that you didn’t mean”

your shoulders deflate, muscles warming under his hands like taffy.

“i know what was happening with your friends, your parents weren’t much help either. i’m not blaming you for something that was out of both our control”

“i shouldn’t have listened to them” you kick your shoes off.

“no, you shouldn’t have. but it’s not something we can change now”

bam peeks over the back of the couch, clumsy as he scuttles over to the two of you, “and what about us?”

“what about us?” jungkook kneels down, always one to spoil his dog with kisses, “why can’t we just go back to the way we were?”

you blink down at jungkook, “i’d really like that”

“i love you” he grins, “if you ever run away again, i’ll always wait for you at home. i’ll always be waiting”

“i won’t run again” you tell him, you’d made that mistake once, “i love you too much to do that again”

“i just put fresh sheets on the bed, if you wanna stay over?”

it’s strange, how even after a month apart, words that you never meant shouted in a fit of rage, and the distance of a city apart— jungkook will always feel like home.

the world viewed jungkook as perfect. and he wasn’t. not in the way everyone else saw him.

and even if jungkook were to be the beast, a villain of your love story, nothing could ever stop you from wandering back home into his arms. even if it meant the world was against you.

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #bts fic #jungkook #bts x reader #drabble game

[nemaliwrites]

slams hands on table. maya and diego

Diego’s been in jail for eight weeks, and Maya’s come to visit him eight times.

He’s torn between wanting to slam his hands on the table and shake his head fondly. 

“Look, kid,” he tells her, yet again. “Don’t waste your life on a guy like me, okay?”

“I owe you my life, Mr. Armando,” says Maya. “Visiting you is the opposite of wasting it.”

Every time, he does whatever he can to drive her away, to make her hate him. She should hate him.

But the next week, there she is again. Seems like stubbornness runs in the family.

-

send me two characters and a word!

#okay okay i know this probably wasn't what you meant for the prompt #but the vibes were too strong to ignore #thank you for the ask! #ace attorney #maya fey #diego armando #drabble game #my fics #100 words #nem drabbles

[tongue-like-a-razor]

For your celebration, could you write something with the word Dog with Bob?

Ahh this was a cute one! Thank you for send this one in, darling!

3k Celebration Mini Drabbles

“Is that a dog, Bob?”

Your husband smiles at you sheepishly, closing the front door behind himself. “He, uh, needed a new home.”

You glare at him. “You’re going to need a new home in a minute.”

Bob snorts, walking closer to you. “Sweetheart,” he says, putting his arms around you. “I love you, you know that?”

“That’s no – that’s not fair,” you say, giggling as Bob starts kissing your neck. “My answer is no.”

Bob peppers your face with kisses and then holds you close. “It’s a guard dog,” he says, glancing back at the dog affectionately.

“It’s a chihuahua.”

Bob presses his lips to your temple. “It’s very loud.”

“So am I,” you remind him.

“Perfect,” he says, grinning at you. “You’ll get along great.”

3k celebration

#top gun blurb #top gun bob #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #lewis pullman #robert floyd #bob floyd drabble #ask game #drabble game #robert floyd x reader #bob floyd imagine

[dollopheadsandclotpoles]

For the quotes thingy, 94 for Merlin and Arthur

Sorry for the delay anon. Here's some modern-era workplace au merthur for ya. (There are sexual references but no actual smut in this, sorry if you wanted some haha)

“I bet I can make you scream my name.”

The worst thing about being in a secret relationship with Arthur Pendragon was that he could be a right bloody tease. 

All Merlin had done was suggest they keep their relationship a secret. They had just gotten together after all, and they weren’t fourteen anymore. They didn’t have to immediately run and tell their friends every single thing about their dating life the second it happened, did they?

Sure, their relationship was a culmination of months of frustrated pining that Merlin thought was one-sided until Arthur dropped him to his flat post the office party and abruptly (and clumsily) confessed his feelings, which resulted in a kiss that made Merlin so weak-kneed he was positive he’d never been kissed like that before. 

But the next morning, when he saw Arthur rousing in his bed, the sunlight alighting on him like he was a Classical painting of a half-naked Adonis, Merlin’s senses returned to him.

The words had come out in a rush, before he could stop them. “We shouldn’t tell anyone. About us.” 

It took Arthur a moment to register the words, but as soon as he did, he looked affronted by the mere suggestion. “What? Why?” 

“Just… you know. We work together. People will think I’m… sucking up to the boss.” 

Arthur gave him a look that made it clear he knew that was bullshit. Technically, yes, Arthur was one of the bosses, but Merlin was in another department and didn’t report to Arthur at all, so they weren’t actually breaking any rules by getting involved. And Merlin in particular was known office-wide for not giving a single shit what his bosses thought anyway. A fact that made him far from Uther Pendragon’s favourite employee. 

Arthur was watching him, brows raised slightly in suspicious contemplation. “What’s the real reason?”  

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Merlin said, flicking on the electric kettle and letting the sound of bubbling water fill the small room. 

Arthur wore the grumpy expression he wore during too-early meetings with particularly aggravating clients.

“Fine,” he said, eventually. “I won’t tell anyone.” 

Merlin smiled, relieved. “Thanks. I just think it’s better t-”

“But we’re not having sex.” 

Merlin let out a scoff. “What?” 

“Either you tell me the truth about why you want to hide this, or we’re not having sex.” 

Merlin crossed his arms, raising his eyebrows. “Your threats aren’t going to work on me, Arthur.” 

Arthur gave him that lopsided grin of his that made the back of Merlin’s neck burn. “We’ll see.” 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It started off small. A brush of their hands by the water cooler, or Arthur bumping his knee against Merlin’s when they were seated next to each other in the conference room. It was sweet, and hardly distracting. But then, Arthur started wearing that cologne that Merlin liked a bit too much, and leaning all the way over him when taking a look at the agreements, instead of just taking the files back to his office, like he used to. With the heat of Arthur’s body behind him and the smell of his—utterly intoxicating cologne— all around him, Merlin had to remind himself not to let his conviction waver. The prat couldn’t always have his way. 

Then, Arthur began joining Merlin and Gwaine in the squash court before work, clad in shorts that showed off his stupidly well defined calves, which—until then—Merlin hadn’t ever thought of as a particularly sexy part of a man’s body. But seeing Arthur run around in a sweat-damp t-shirt, his golden hair sticking to his forehead as he whooped loudly about scoring a point, seemed to awaken a part of him that he did not want to acknowledge. 

He didn’t even want to think about the locker room after. Arthur really had an aggravatingly nice ass. 

The cute knee bumps in the conference room turned into Arthur’s hand on his knee, then his thigh, rising steadily upwards until Merlin choked on his water, and started coughing so hard Uther Pendragon asked him if he was unwell. 

But Merlin was stubborn. Arthur was being infuriating on purpose, and Merlin was not going to acknowledge that he was tempted. Was he expected to just give in to the prat’s every whims? No. He wasn’t going to cave. Especially not when Arthur came into his department wearing a light blue shirt that was a little bit too tight and which brought out the deep, fervent blue of his eyes, asking to use their photocopier. 

“Of course,” Gretchen, Merlin’s department head said. 

“I think you have a slightly different model down here. I’m not sure how to use it. Maybe Merlin could help me?” 

Gretchen looked expectantly at Merlin, who breathed in sharply through his nose. He couldn’t very well say no in front of his department head. He ignored the smirk Will gave him as he stormed past Arthur and into the photocopy room. 

The room was cramped, made even smaller by the four massive photocopiers they had crammed in there. He refused to look up when he heard Arthur come in, and when he heard the telltale click of the lock. 

Why did they even have a lock in here? 

“What do you need to photocopy?” Merlin asked, he kept his back to Arthur, his tone a lot ruder than he had intended. His skin already felt like it was buzzing with static. Damn Arthur Pendragon and his bleeding ultimatums. 

Arthur reached past Merlin, his hand grazing Merlin’s side as he placed the document on the bed of the photocopier. Even though the rough fabric of his shirt, Merlin’s skin seared with heat at the touch. 

“Need 30 copies of that,” Arthur said, his breath warm on Merlin’s neck. 

Merlin slammed down the lid of the machine, ignoring the goosebumps that ran up his arm, and turned to face Arthur, realising belatedly that he was caught between Arthur and the massive copy machine. Maybe he hadn’t quite thought this through. Arthur smiled, crookedly, putting one arm up on the machine to trap Merlin in place.

“Is that all?” Merlin asked, forcefully. 

“I think you should stay here. In case something goes wrong with the machine.” Arthur was pressing up against him now, his hips right up against Merlin’s own. Merlin felt the vibrations of the giant machine run through his spine. 

He swallowed hard. “I think I should go back to work.” 

“I’m your boss, Merlin. You have to listen to me.” 

“No you’re not, and no I don’t.” Merlin said, though his thoughts were buzzing, melding into the whir of the copier.

He could feel Arthur’s breath on his lips now, hot and sweet. “These machines are so loud, I’ll wager we could be as loud as we want in here.” 

“I… have no plans of being loud in here.” 

“No?” Arthur asked, eyes boring into Merlin’s. “If you give me the chance, I bet I can make you scream my name.” 

Merlin’s whole body was burning hot and felt stretched too-tight, like a rubber band about to snap. He could barely muster up his next words, which came out more like a croak. “I’m good.” 

Arthur groaned loudly, pushing away from him. Merlin instantly missed the heat of his body. “God, Merlin, you are the most stubborn person I have ever met. You think I can’t tell how pent up you are? Why are you so insistent on keeping this a secret? Do you not want to be in a relationship with me?” 

Merlin blinked, the fog in his brain clearing away, just a little. “What? Of course I do.” 

“Then why the hell are you so insistent on keeping this a secret?” 

Arthur was watching him, his expression was raw, his eyes wide. There he was, his emotion laid bare, and Merlin understood, suddenly, what it all meant. He’d thought it was harmless, asking Arthur to keep them a secret. But all this time, Arthur thought he didn’t care. 

“Do you not want to be exclusive? Is this going too fast?” Arthur asked. 

“It’s not like that,” Merlin said, putting as much earnestness into his voice as he could. “It’s…,” he ran his fingers through his hair, making one side stick up, and sighed. “It’s Gwaine and Will. And Morgana.” 

“Huh? Do you mean… you’re… also seeing Gwaine, Will and my sister?” 

“What? No! Yeesh. I don’t think I have that much game. No! It’s… they…,” Merlin sighed loudly, dropping his arms to his side. “They used to say I had a crush on you.” 

Arthur stared back, uncomprehending. “Huh?” 

“Well you used to be really bloody annoying when I first started working here! And I kept saying that I hated you, and they kept saying I had a crush, and I didn’t… not then… but then I did, but by then I didn’t want to admit it… and you were still a giant clotpole, by the way… so I kept saying that I didn’t like you and…” Merlin gestured wildly towards the door. “If they find out we’re together they’re never going to let me hear the end of it.” 

Arthur was staring at him now like he’d grown a set of donkey ears and was braying. 

“That’s what all this is about?” he asked, disbelief in his voice. “This is about your pride!?” 

“It’s about my reputation,” Merlin insisted. 

“But you are going to tell them eventually, aren’t you?”

“Of course, dollophead. Just… they’re going to be so annoying about it. I just want to put that off for as long as I can. Alright?”  

“You really are infuriatingly stubborn,” Arthur huffed. He tugged Merlin by the tie, yanking him closer and kissing him hard on the mouth. Merlin’s skin burned. He was practically dizzzy when they pulled apart, his fingers still threaded through Arthur’s hair. 

“So,” he gasped, trying to regain his breath, “are you done tormenting me now? You only said I had to tell you why.” 

Arthur straightened out Merlin’s tie that had gone askew. “See you at my place after work then. I have a bet I have to make good on.” 

Merlin grinned, his heart still hammering in his chest. “Don’t be so sure you’re gonna win.” 

 Arthur smirked. “This time, I’m pretty confident I will.” 

#drabble game #my writing #bbc merlin #merthur #merlin x arthur #merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin fic #merlin ficlet #merlin emrys #i first thought It'd be really funny to find a totally non-smutty way to use this line #but then I was like let's just give the people what they want #you knew what you wanted when you asked for this I know it #anonymous #ask

[back2bluesidex]

Grumpy menace of a reader with whomever you find easier to write🤠 it's morning, I'm gonna read it like morning newspaper 😭💕 thank you if you indulge in this request

Pairing: Idol!Jungkook X Reader

Word count: 504

Theme: Establish relationship au, fluff, so much fluff

A/N: @soraviie the request that you forgot about haha! Hope that you enjoy it, love! 💕

*********************

“Jungkook no! Please let me sleep!” you whine, clearly very unimpressed with your boyfriend’s advances. 

However, he stays reluctant to your complaints as he nuzzles more into the warmth of your neck. At first he nudges the soft skin with his nose and then starts placing soft kisses anywhere he could reach. 

If it was any normal day, you would have been more than pleased to wake up to your adorable boyfriend cuddling you like this. But not today. Not when he decided to go live with his ramyeon recipe in the dead of the night just because he was unable to sleep. He was casually talking to the camera but hell! He was loud! As loud as an excited puppy. And sometimes he even suppresses Bam in the scale of excitement. 

You, being a light sleeper, could not sleep through his live session and stared blankly at the ceiling for a solid 1.5 hours. And now when sleep finally crept into your eyes and you can finally go back to sleeping comfortably, Jungkook decided to cuddle you. 

You whine again as you feel his lips climbing up to your jawbone while he holds you tightly by your waist. Gosh! Why is he so strong? 

“Jungkook! If you don’t let me sleep now, I promise no sex for next two weeks!” you threaten him. Jungkook’s eyes fly open. He detaches his mouth from your skin as he stares at you with those impossibly beautiful doe eyes. 

“What? Why? Why are you so grumpy this morning?” Jungkook asks as he partially hovers above your body. 

“You are asking me why? Really? You think it is possible for me to sleep through your impromptu cooking lessons at 4 am in the morning?” you reply grumpily. 

“oh! “ He replies briefly, “I am sorry, baby. I could not sleep so I just thought of spending some time with armies. Umm…. it wasn’t my intention to disturb you.” he adds. 

He knows what exactly he is doing, he is giving you those puppy eyes and trying to melt you to a puddle. But will you melt? Probably yes. 

You sigh, “it’s okay kook. Just let me sleep now okay? It’s weekend and you don’t have any schedule either, we will get a lot of time to spend together.” 

He smiles sweetly, one that is reserved only for you, one that you love beyond words could explain. You smile back, ruffling his “Ajjuma murray” and placing a soft kiss on his cheek. 

He lies back with you, holding you so close and tight. He sniffs your hair once and then starts stroking your hair with his nimble fingers.

“I will help you fall asleep” he whispers in your hair. And you swear to yourself, this is why Jungkook is the best boy in this world, this is why Jungkook is the best boyfriend one can get, and this is why you are so lucky to be with him like this, comfortable and quiet, all for him, all with him.  

#bts fluff #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook drabble #jungkook au #bts scenario #bts drabble #drabble game