angel's stroke

I like to imagine Neil giggles a lot when he gets tipsy. Imagine: Andrew and Neil sitting on the roof, sharing a bottle of whiskey, Andrew’s bitching about Kevin and Exy and Neil is just lying with his head on his lap, staring up at his stupid face and losing his shit. Andrew alternates between glaring at him and shutting him up with a kiss. 

Depression preferences

When you have depression moments:

-all day cuddles
-binge watching x-files
-big kisses every five minutes
-this man loves to kiss you dude
-warm blankets
-gentle shushing
-you crying on his chest
-really gentle sweet love making
-massive onesies

-him cradling you in his arms
-talking it out
-him making sure you eat
-wearing his yellow hoodie
-him singing to you
-him calling you angel
-forehead kisses
-him stroking your hand

They both want to make sure you’re ok

[SFW] Lucio helps Reader learn to walk again

“Let’s begin, shall we? Today your goal is to walk in a straight line, ten feet in length, with minimal assistance.” Dr. Zeigler wheeled you into the gymnasium for yet another physical therapy session. Lucio skated along to help you through it. He did after all feel partially responsible for your condition. The mission had been simple enough, escort a target into police custody. But things were complicated by a protest gone bad. He tried to speed boost everyone to safety but you got caught up in a brawl. Rioters punched and kicked indiscriminately. By the time Mercy reached you it was too late. Your face was smashed in, blind in one eye. Right hand unsalvageable. Both legs shattered. Extensive nerve damage to your spine.

Overwatch paid for all your treatments and outfitted you with mechanical augments. Getting them to network with your nervous system proved difficult, however. Your progress had stagnated a few weeks ago, cause unknown. The amputation went fine. Gear was operational. Brain signals were transmitting beautifully. Zenyatta suspected the cause was psychological, perhaps PTSD. You resented him for that one.

“Alright you can do this! I believe in you!” Lucio, brimming with positivity, lifted you out of the wheelchair. Dr. Zeigler instructed him to hold out his arm for balance only, not support. The floor was marked with red tape where you were to walk.

The first step was easy enough, the second a little harder. But when you tried a third step your back lit up with pain. Nails dug into Lucio’s arm. “Shit. It. Fucking. Hurts.” He looked to Mercy for guidance and she nodded you on.

“Just take deep breaths and focus on walking naturally. Don’t lock your knees.” Okay. No problem. You looked down at the mechanical limbs carrying your weight. They closely resembled Genji’s augments; the leg was fully formed with anatomical suggestion lines, LED lights at major nerve bundles.

“Come on body. Move!” But you were frozen in place. You tapped your thigh and electrical signals conveyed the information to your brain. “It’s not numb but… Why won’t they move?” Mercy knelt down on your free side and wiggled your knee joint. It glided smoothly. “You need to stop telling your legs to move and instead simply move them. Think about it. When you reach for a glass you aren’t thinking the words ‘grab the glass’ you just do it. Try closing your eyes or singing a song to take your mind of it. Your brain will fill the gap.” Lucio jumped at the opportunity to help.

“I could sing a song for you! How about some Katy Perry? Baby you’re a firework…” Unfortunately his singing was more irritating than anything. You tried closing your eyes and breathing slowly. Don’t think about it, don’t think about it… Amazingly your legs started moving! One, two, three steps! You began to celebrate, excitedly shaking Lucio’s arm. This was a moment too soon however. In the middle of your fourth step your legs locked and you crashed down on the ground.

“Are you okay?” Lucio asked, “Hold on don’t move, let me help you.”

“Don’t touch me!” A sudden anger seized you. “I think you’ve helped enough.” Your eyes shot a nasty look at the boy. He recoiled, hurt by your implication.

“I thought you were right behind us! You have to believe me. I’m sorry! We tried to go back for you but Soldier wouldn’t let us…”

“Shut up! Fuck you Lucio. That’s bullshit and you know it! How could you leave me to die and then go and blame it on him? Couldn’t you hear me screaming? I was so scared!” Your voiced cracked. Memories of that day clouded your mind. Your shoulders heaved with heavy sobs. “Everything was so dark. And the pain! I wanted to die just to make it stop. I screamed for help and nobody came. I was alone! You abandoned me when I needed you most. You left me…” The tears flowed uncontrollably leaving you an emotional wreck. Lucio, faced with this inescapable truth, crumbled. He added his tears to your own, scrambling to find the words.

“I’m so sorry. P-please forgive me. I’ll never leave your side again just… Please! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Mercy sat on the floor and cradled you both. There wasn’t a dry eye in the room.

“Accidents happen my dear. Try to understand. There’s no changing the past now. You have to let go of this anger, this resentment. And Lucio, you did everything exactly as you should. Bad things happen! But we can’t give up on ourselves when life takes a turn for the worse. Go ahead and cry now little one, don’t be ashamed. Feel everything you’re feeling so you can move past it. It will all be over soon. You just have to believe.” Your guardian angel stroked your hair and held you as you wept. Lucio took your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Okay. I’m going to do it. I’m going to walk again come hell or high water!”

With tears still streaming down your face you forced yourself up off the floor. Lucio and Mercy supported you in every way possible. Having them at your side was truly a blessing. Now, more determined than ever, you took those shaky steps forward. One… Two… Three… Your body responded without fail each step you took! When you hit the end of the line you turned around and looked at them both. Joyous laughter and jubilation washed away all the pain from moments before. You did it! You walked!

Lucio opened his arms and you leapt into them as best you could. “Thank you so much for being there. I’m sorry I snapped at you. You’re my best friend and it was wrong. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He squeezed you tight.

“You’ll never be without me again. I promise.”

sidus-frigus  asked:

I just went through all of the amazing content for my baby Iwazumi and Ushijima. And honestly one thing that struck me was the scenario with Daichi, Bokuto and Asahi where they had a bad day and they seek comfort in their s/o after. The way you wrote it just made me feel so warm inside. I was just wondering if you could do that same scenario with Iwazumi and Ushijima? Just like fluff and emotional support, maybe a little angst. Thank you!! I love your amazing blog!! <3

Ok, this is perfect?? Admin Jen wrote the other scenarios, but I hope I am a decent substitute! I had some feelings about these boys–I love them so much and I miss them already. Enjoy!!!

~Admin Emma


Ushijima Wakatoshi rarely got sick, and when he did, it was rarely more than simple a headache, or possibly a sour stomach. He rarely needed taking care of, and even if he did, he never had people around to do so. When he was in high school, he was either living in the dorms or in his mostly-empty house; his mother wasn’t much of a caregiver either way. He didn’t expect things to change much in University. Sure, he had you, but he could hardly ask you to drop everything for a random head cold. He was an adult, after all.

After a week-long, rigorous training camp, Ushijima woke up at the crack of dawn to go on his normal run, levered himself up on his elbows, and promptly fell face-first back into his pillows. He groaned–his stomach turned at the sudden movement, and his head felt like an over-inflated balloon. Whatever superbug he’d managed to bring home from training camp, it sapped his strength, made his whole body ache, and made him somehow sweat and shiver at the same time. He curled tight in on himself, trying to decide between burrowing into the blankets for warmth or tossing them off to cool his sweat-soaked body. He hated being sick… even now, because nothing had changed. He was still left to wallow in his own misery and weakness alone, but it was bad this time. He couldn’t get out of bed long enough to get water, let alone medicine, and he certainly didn’t have the capacity to text or call someone. He needed help… and yet, he was by himself and limited in options.

Thankfully, the edge of panic was dulled by the fever. All he wanted to do was sleep. He stopped pawing around for his phone, his arm sliding limply to graze against his floor. He may have murmured something, but he couldn’t remember…


He pulled himself out of his sweat-soaked haze to the feel of fingers in his hair. His mouth tasted like fuzz and bile, and his head was not only foggy but now it also throbbed with pain. He was still shivering violently, and he couldn’t make himself stop. He felt… something drape across his forehead, and it was blessedly cool. The same something draped across his bare chest, and it was equally cool. He must have let out a soft moan, because his throat protested any use at all by violently trying to hack up one of his lungs.

“Toshi,” your voice said, piercing through his feverish haze. “Easy, angel, just breathe. Here.”

He felt something at his lips, and he sighed with relief when cool water soothed his aching throat. He peeled open his eyes and was caught by utter surprise when he saw you. Your brows were pinched with concern, but your soft touch against his forehead felt unbelievable. He sighed softly, relieved when it didn’t trigger a new series of hacking coughs. He felt so weak, and he hated it, and if you were real–he wasn’t entirely sure you weren’t an invention of his feverish brain–you were seeing him at his worst.

You pressed your hand against his cheek and hissed; “Toshi, sweetheart, you’re burning up… you’re such a hypocrite.”

He didn’t know what you meant by that, but he was fading and fast. He fought it, his eyelids fluttering… even if it was an illusion, your voice soothed him. Why hadn’t he ever told you that? He didn’t want to miss a second, but your quiet assurances and your gentle hands… he couldn’t fight for much longer.

“Get some sleep, Toshi,” you said, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “I’ll be here when you wake up. I promise.”


When he woke again, your hands were still stroking his sweat-damp hair, but there was an added weight on the bed. And there was singing… well, humming. You tended to hum tunelessly when you were idle. He did feel better, though, even if he was still woozy. He forced his eyes open, staring up at you. You were lounging on his pillows, a book propped open on your thigh. Your other leg was held firmly in his arms, and his face had very obviously been pressed against the soft, cool skin. He pushed away gently, stretching his stiff muscles. He almost whined in protest when you stopped stroking his hair.

“There he is. How’re you feeling?” You set your book on the side table, pressing your hand to his forehead. He leaned into it, relishing in how good it felt to be touched. You laughed softly, and yet he couldn’t bother opening his eyes. “Your fever went down, thank goodness. Are you hungry? Think you can keep some soup down?”

He grunted lightly, actually whining when your hand pulled away. He wasn’t processing your words; he only knew you weren’t touching him anymore, and he hated it. Part of him knew he was being silly, but in his exhausted state, all he wanted was to be held. He felt like a child, and the part of his brain that was actually functioning chastised him; he was a grown adult, and he could take care of himself. He almost felt ashamed that you’d taken time out of your busy schedule to come care for him. He should send you away with a fond thank you and a promise to call you when he was recovered… he didn’t want you to get sick.

But every fiber of his being protested the notion when you returned, a mug of steaming liquid in your hands. You helped prop him against his pillows, and whatever mystery soup you’d brought him was almost clear and smelled like chicken and ginger. It felt amazing to have the taste of something other than bile in his mouth, and when you settled next to him, he allowed himself one indulgence. He dropped his head onto your shoulder, letting out a soft hum of contentment.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better. I was worried,” you said, your fingers returning to his hair. He would have to tell you that he liked that when he was cogent again… he didn’t trust himself to not say something humiliating at the moment.

Your cheek pressed against the top of his head and your free hand stroked his cheek. He’d never felt so safe, so loved, and so protected–even if he didn’t need those things, the fact that you were so willing to give them warmed him in ways he could never describe.


“I definitely failed,” Iwaizumi growled, his hands shaking as he reached for his keys. He hated calculus… almost more than he hated English, which had tortured him that morning with a presentation… which he also failed. He knew he did. He could name every mistake he made, every flaw in his work. On top of that, his part-time job was stressing him out, practice had been murder (he still didn’t fully sync with the new setter), he had a super important paper to write, and a practical exam in the morning that he wasn’t even closed to prepared for. He felt like a fuck-up… he used to have his life so together, and now? Now he could barely keep his schedule together, let alone his relationship… it seemed only a matter of time before you found someone better.

He slammed through the door, chucking his bag to some unknown corner, stepping out of his shoes, and making a beeline for the fridge. He was positive he had a Sapporo stashed somewhere, but then he’d have to retrieve his keys from wherever they’d landed after he’d thrown them, which sort of defeated the purpose… it was the only bottle opener in the house. He snarled and growled and yelled, tearing at his hair like it had personally offended him.

He now wished he hadn’t texted you earlier to ask for the house to himself. He wanted to study, but more than that he wanted you. He needed you… he needed you to reassure him. He needed you to tell him everything was going to be OK and he wasn’t a fuck up and that you loved him… he hated this part of himself. He hated the mean voice in his head that told him he was a failure, and that he was unlovable and violent and cruel and someday he would drive everyone he cared about away. Even more than that, he hated that he believed it.

But there was nothing for it now. You were gone–with a friend for the night, he figured–so he was going to be left alone for the night to wrestle through his Anatomy flashcards and throw together a barely-cogent paper in order to get a couple hours worth of sleep. He wondered if you would be home that night… probably not. It was too much to hope he could at least sleep next to you, given how shitty his day had been. That might actually make him feel better.

He supposed plan B was a shower, so he wrestled his sweatshirt and jeans off, letting them lay where they fell. He couldn’t be asked to pick them up, or drag his lazy ass all the way to the hamper in the bedroom. He tossed open the bathroom door, ready to just stand under a stream of too-hot water until it ran cold, but he froze. His favorite scented candle was lit, his favorite soft acoustic station on Spotify was playing on your phone, and you were sitting at the edge of your massive claw-foot tub, big enough for the two of you. A steaming-hot bath was drawn, and your arms were thrown open, inviting him into a hug.

“Welcome home, doll,” you cooed.

“____… what’s this?”

“A bath, silly,” you replied with that smile of yours, adjusting the collar of your soft bathrobe. “I saw on the calendar you had a busy day, so when you texted me… well, I figured you’d had a rough day. So I drew a bath for you. You need to relax, Hajime, or you’re going to drop dead of a stroke.”

“Angel,” he whispered his preferred pet name for you, one that embarrassed him horribly, but he couldn’t care less. He drew you into a soft kiss, for once not giving your kindness a second thought. He’d needed you… and you provided. He wasn’t going to take it for granted.

There were few things in the world that made Iwaizumi relax faster than his head against your chest, soft music in the background, a warm bath, and your hands in his hair. He felt all his stress slowly melt away, your nails over his scalp turning him into a puddle of goo. He purred–actually purred–in contentment when you pressed a soft kiss to his ear.

“Hey,” you whispered, making him shiver when your breath ghosted over his skin. You chuckled softly, knowing exactly what you did to him. “What do you say after this I order dinner while you get some studying done, hm? Then I demand one hour of Netflix and Chill.”

He laughed, leaning into your soft touch. He couldn’t think of a better way to spend his night.

“Darling, you have got yourself a deal.”


(A/N: So this is my first ever fanfic. Pretty much my first ever writing but I think it came out OK and I hope You will enjoy it.ts for the “love the ships”-challenge hosted by @waywardjoy )

Pairing: Destiel
Wordcount: 2496
Varnings: well…angst i guess.
Conversation prompt: “I told you I didn’t want you here” “I know, I’m here anyway. What are you going to do about it?”

A big thank you to @in2lalaland  and @tenoko1 for everything =)

If you liked it and want to read the very fluffy contiuation you can find that here

Dean knew right away that Castiel was in the bunker again, he had felt the vibration from the closing door as it echoed down the corridor. Why was he here?

Dean leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, watching as the angel slowly walked up the few steps to the library. Castiel looked beat, his shoulders drooping, his head turned down and eyes fixed on the floor.

”I told you that I didn’t want you here,” Dean said harshly.

Keep reading

Maid - Joker x Reader imagine part 5 (ok whats happening ive gotten so far)

a/n: HIIIII *nervously sweats and smiles* i cant believe im writing another part with 600 followers, this is insane! i love you all so much. so this part is like… idk they talk and such. i just got this idea. btw, it’s immediately after the last part, immediately, okay? and oh, the joker has two bathrooms - one with a bath and the other has been mentioned before. oh the picture isnt mine - its not the best joker edit cause he has eyebrows here and his eyes arent dark but i will forgive the person :D

characters: why do i bother but JOKER and READER

warnings: nudity, smut once in a while, bathing together (idk is that a warning? :D)

J stood up from the bed, looking at me. The emotions in his eyes were changing. It looked like he was trying to resist something. With a growl, he placed his hands on my sides and lifted me off the bed, placing me on my feet. He reached out his hand and I looked at it. I was still a bit afraid of him, he could kill me too. Any moment. J then took my hand in his, not caring about the way I looked at it. He never took my hand, either home or in public, and it felt weird, different. He dragged me to the door of his bigger bathroom and faced me.

“Stay here.” J said, pointing his finger at me. I nodded. He opened the door and went into the room. I sighed. Couldn’t I just go to sleep? I was so tired… How wasn’t he? All day out, business, sex, and he could still ran around the world. How is that possible? 

What was he doing in the bathroom? He never did anything by himself except killing people. 

J returned shortly after I started wondering about his actions and he pulled me into the room, closing the door after. He had turned on the lights, and I heard the water running in the bath. There were towels on the floor next to it. He had prepared a bath for me? For us?

I looked at him, he seemed calm. He walked me to the bath - it was in the size to fit four people next to each other on the small side, but ten people next to each other on the longer side. He again placed his hands on my sides and placed me into the bath full of warm water. 

J got in himself and laid down, so only his shoulders and head were out of the water. His hand stretched out for me and I hesitantly gave him my hand. J pulled me down, so I was laying on him and moved us up in a sitting position. I was sitting between his legs, mine around his waist, my back against the side of the bath. We were in such position that there was no way he didn’t like to show that he was in charge. Joker turned off the water and turned back around to me. His one hand on my cheek, and the other one on the back of my thigh, J looked me deep in the eyes.

“I feel like…” he looked up, in thought, then looked back at me. “There is something bothering you, angel.” He stated. “You haven’t spoken much, you act a little different. Can you tell me what’s going on?”

I took in a deep breath and exhaled, looking down, avoiding his gaze. I have to tell him, even if he’ll think I’m vulnerable and weak. If he wants to know, he will.

“I-I’m afraid..” I finally said.

“Afraid?” His non-existent eyebrows furrowed above his eyes and he lifts my chin up to him. “Of what?”

“I-I, it’s-”

“Is it my men? I can-”

“No, it’s not them.”

“Who is it then? Have you got somebody outside our home you’re afraid of? Your family? Friends?”

“No, J, it’s….” I sighed out a shaky breath. 

“Go on, tell me what you’re afraid of.”

“I’m.. afraid of you.” I said, looking him in the eyes.

“Me?” His face was a mix of several emotions. He drew back just a little bit. “Why? Did I…” his face hit the sight of realisation, “Oh..” J was looking down while a few tears escaped my eyes. “Why does me killing a man scare you?”

“Why? Why? Maybe because that’s never happened to me.” I gained courage, I spoke, looking him in the eyes. “I have never seen you or anybody else kill someone. You were nice-ish to him and then you just shot him! Makes me think that you could kill me any moment.”

“If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it long ago and you know that, doll.” His face was close to mine again, his hands on both sides of my neck on the bath’s edge. “But.. since you’re loyal and I enjoy your company, I’m not going to kill you. I like you too much to kill you.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that I’m scared of you! You terrified me tonight. You shot a man in the head and didn’t change a shade. How can a person do that?…”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, sweets, but… I’m not a regular person. Am I even a person? Who knows?” J chuckled. “But you don’t have to be afraid of me. Or anything else. I will protect you at all costs, my dear angel.” His hand stroked my cheek, placing his thumb in between my lips. “Does that ease your mind at any way?” He asked and I nodded. 

J moved his lips down to mine and kissed them roughly as his hand slid down my body and stopped at my heat, placing his hand over it. I inhaled a sharp breath and kissed him back, reaching my arms around his neck, pulling him deeper into me. As his tongue entered my mouth, his fingers teased my entrance, making me whimper into his mouth. J pulled back suddenly.

“Do you want to touch me, baby doll?”

“What?” His words took me by surprise. 

“I said, do you want to touch me?” He repeated. “Can you touch me, doll? You’ve never touched me.” He spoke in my ear, stopping the actions of his fingers.

“Well, I-I..” I stuttered. “I don’t have much experience.” I admitted.

“Oh, I can teach you, baby.” He smirked. “Do you want me to?”

“Y-yes,” I replied, “If you do.”

“I very much do.” He said, laughing quietly. “Give me your hand.” J said, reaching out his other hand for mine. I put my hand in his and he guided it down between us(a/n: jesus h christ i swear to you i havE NEVER WRITTEN SOMETHING LIKE THIS IN MY LIFE SO IF ITS HORRIBLE IM SORRY IM JUST NOT A FAN OF …. DOING THIS TO A MAN). My breaths were shaky, I had never touched a male in that way before, I was nervous. He placed my hand on his member and started slowly moving it up and down. “Slowly, slowly…” he said and then let go of my hand, leaving it there. I looked at him. “Go on.” J urged and I nodded. Wrapping my fingers around, my hand slowly, gently moved up and down his length. J closed his eyes at the feeling and his hand worked on my intimate area, fingers pressing down, drawing circles. I moaned, my hand wrapping around his cock (a/n: god i hate this word) tighter and J groaned out.

“Oh, J…” I moaned out in a high-pitched voice when he entered me with his fingers. I started moving my hand faster up and down at the pleasure J was giving me.

“Yes, baby girl, just like that…” He sighed into my ear, curling his fingers and I was a moaning mess before him. Our actions continued for a while until we were both moaning and groaning each other’s names, close to our peak. I moved my hand up one last time before I felt him cum in my hand (a/n: ok so maybe this is against some erotic physics bc i’ve heard that a male can only cum once, while women can cum multiple times in a row but you know what? this is an imagine, this is not supposed to be reality so idgaf :)))) ). J’s fingers continued to work on me, he pressed his thumb on my clit and I moaned loudly.

“Cum, baby, come for me..” him whispering into my ear was what it took for me to reach my orgasm. Moans and J’s name left my mouth multiple times and I finally came over my high. I sighed, J taking his fingers out and chuckling. I was so tired, I could fall asleep at any moment. 

“That was wonderful, baby,” Joker spoke, smiling. “You did great.” He complimented, making me smile tiredly at him. He leaned down to my level - at the lack of energy I had, I was leaned back into the bath - and kissed my lips with a growl. 

“That was your first time touching a man, wasn’t it?” He asked and I nodded for a reply. “Your hands seemed so innocent…. As you do. No matter how many times I’ve fucked you and done other dirty things to you, you always look innocent and pure.” J spoke, making me laugh a little. J smiled at me laughing, it was a genuine smile. “Tell me… when I fucked you for the first time, was it… your first time?”

“Well…” I trailed off, sitting up straight so I was in his level, “my first time was with an asshole boyfriend from high school, but he never went all the way in… let’s just say, he didn’t reach my virginity wall so I don’t think it counted. God, that guy was a jerk…”

“Was he really? You know I could-”

“J, it’s alright, he wasn’t abusive or anything, don’t worry.” I stopped him. “He was just really annoying.”

“Well, then…. Do you regret having me take your first time?”

“No, I don’t.” I almost whispered, shaking my head with a smile.

“Flattering.” Joker purrs in my ear, his hands on my sides.

“J, I want to ask you something.”

“Anything, my doll.” He said, placing a kiss on my cheekbone. 

“Who’s Harley? The man mentioned her.”

“And why would anything he said be true? He didn’t do his part of the deal, so why should you take what he said to your head?”

“I saw the way your face changed when he mentioned her name. Tell me about her, I want to know.” I said.

“I’ll tell you, fine. Harley was a… beloved toy of mine for some time. Unfortunately for her, she left me a while ago. Even though she’s strong and knew how to fight, she couldn’t resist me after all. So I just… got rid of her one day.”

“Oh…” I replied. “Do you miss her?”

“No, I don’t. Never did.”

“Did you love her?”

“I don’t like that word, baby doll, never use it again in that context.” He growled. “But I didn’t. I told her I did, but I just used her for business.” As he spoke, i furrowed my brows, listening. “She was strong, naive and in love. Annoying, also. She realised it only after a long time and left.” He finished and there was silence for a while.

“You would… never do that to me, right, J?” I asked, my arms around my legs, knees resting against my bare chest. 

“Of course, not, doll.” J answered, resting his chin on one of my knees. “You’re different than her, better than her. More beautiful, smarter.”

“And how do I know you’re not lying to me now like you lied to Harley?”

“I told you that I would never treat you like her.” He sternly spoke. “But I also know that you’re smarter than her, you know when people are lying and when they’re telling the truth. So,” he traced his finger up my leg, “can you tell if I’m lying when I tell you that I will take care of you, keep you safe, never treat you like Harley… That you’re better, different, beautiful, smarter, attracting… Am I lying to you?” 

I decided to change things up a bit and smirked. I put my hands flat up against his chest and pushed him to the other side of the bath. Closer to the large window, where the moonlight was shining down. J was sat up against the bath’s side and I put my legs around his waist once again, my hand on his cheek.

“You’re not lying to me, I can see that.” I replied. “But have you ever lied to me?”

“I don’t think so, my dear angel.” He said, and rose up a little bit so he was even slightly above me. He hated to be the little one. “Have you ever lied to me?”

“No, J, I haven’t. And I promise I never will.” I said and kissed him on the lips. He felt different now. It felt like he was… in my power. What? Did I really have the Joker… weak? For me… 

He kissed back, trying to regain his power, but I wouldn’t let him. I wanted to take the chance of controlling him. I pushed him down and kissed him again, harder, my hand latching into his hair. I gripped his glowing green hair, tugging tightly on the roots and J let out a groan of pleasure, I think.

“Do you like that now?” I whispered with a smirk. J must’ve caught up with what I was trying to do and pushed me away slightly. He laughed and sat up, taking my wrists in his hands. 

“Nobody can be above me. Nobody can out-power me.” He snarled. “Now, you better apologise to Daddy before he changes his mind about being in a good mood.” He warned. Well, I have learned my lesson to never try that again.

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I will never do that again.” I spoke in a more innocent tone that I wanted to. 

“Good.” He said. “Never try it again or Daddy will be very, very angry.” He warned and I nodded. “What do you want to do now, angel face?” His mood immediately changed. “Do you want to continue bathing or do you want to play a little…?” Joker smirked. Was he so turned on all the time? Always in the mood…

“I don’t know..” I trailed off. “What do you want to do?”

“I think Daddy wants to play some more. Would my doll mind?”

“I think your doll would very much enjoy that.” I smiled at him. 

“Why don’t you turn Daddy on a bit more? Could you do that, baby?”

“I could.” I smirked and moved a bit lower on him, right above his member. I moved around it, grinding down on J with my eyes closed. I got myself turned on, moving around his cock to get him hard. My mouth hang open as moans left my mouth, my breasts lowering onto J’s neck every time I went down.

“Alright, doll, that’s enough.” J spoke, holding my hips down to stop my movements. He was looking right into my eyes when he lowered me onto his length, making me moan out. J actually loved it when I was on top of him, he never told me, but he didn’t need to - I could see it, feel it even. He was always watching me intently from below, getting turned on more and more by the sight before him.

By my hips, he guided me up and then down again. He was going painfully slow, but he liked to tease me. I moaned out, eyes closing at the wonderful feeling and mouth agape caused by the moans. 

“P-please go faster, Daddy…” I begged and he moaned out himself. As asked, he picked up his pace to a deviously fast one, pounding in and out of me like there was no tomorrow. I was screaming, moaning, yelping, making very sound possible come out of my mouth. 

J placed one hand on my back and lowered my body down on his, kissing between my breasts. It drove me completely mad. I brought my nails down his chest to get relief somehow, scratching the pale white skin. There would be marks. His grip on my hips tightened so much it was painful, he was controlling my body in every way.

“O-oh, my God…” I moaned out. J whispered encouragements into my ear and I came for the third time tonight, along with him (a/n: damn joker trash back at it again with breaking the erotic physics rules). I fell on top of him once he had pulled out of me and breathed loudly, heavily. 

“Are you tired, baby girl?” J asked. I nodded, unable to speak. “I’ve tired you out, my doll. Rest now, I’ll take care of you.” He said and I rested my head against his chest. I traced over his many tattoos and got an idea.

“Daddy?” I asked with my last energy.


“Can I get a tattoo?”

“Of course, sweets.” I heard him say right before I drifted off into sleep.


Fun fact: Cadance’s parents being dead due to the circumstances surrounding her ascension is actually meant to be a (very thin) mirror to Twilight’s ascension. I wanted Cadance’s ascension to alicornhood to be more difficult, trying, and somewhat painful for her. I made it something of an adventure as well, as opposed to Twilight’s situation that was more slice-of-life-plus-magic, which had some emotional issues but otherwise had few lasting effects.

Cadance’s, however, deeply affected her for years and threw her for a big loop, changing her life completely. I like the idea of them being mirrors to each otherl similar yet different.

Similarly, I like to imagine Blueblood is like a mirror to the tale of a stereotypical Prince Charming, since that’s how he’s presented in the show. My Blueblood wrestled with deep insecurities, shyness, and fears when he was growing up, and was actually a street rat kid before coming to the castle in a “sword-in-the-stone-esque royal birthrate” situation.

It’s fun to toy around with unknown backstories. ^_^

Boss!Harry AU - Part 2.5

Read parts one and two first! This is an add on to part two; a little scene giving us the context behind what’s going to happen in part three. It’s short (really short) but needed! And questions about the last part will hopefully be answered here! Before he even became Boss!Harry. Enjoy x

He’s never felt more tired than he does right now; watching her go through one of the most painful experiences known to mankind, and hearing the screams from her throat as she pushed and pushed without any pain relief, had worn him out and all he’s had to do is stand there, but the small bundle lying in the blanket in his arms has made every single thing worth it; the most delicate and precious being he could ever have or need cooing and breathing contently in his arms in the small nursery of the hospital, empty save for them.

“She still doesn’t want to see him, darlin’,” Harry hears the creek of the door and watches his mother walk in, uttering words he doesn’t want to hear, before returning his attention to his newborn son. It’s not like he wants his son to be without a mother but if she doesn’t want to hold him or even look at him, what can he do?

“Yeh know how people always tell the father how much they look like their baby?” He says in hushed tones. “I thought tha’ was all bullshit, ’til now. He’s go’ my pink ’n pouty mouth ’n a perfect little nose like me, shame about the blue eyes righ’ now but tha’ might change in a couple ‘a days,” he giggles, insisting to himself that he’s never seen a more perfect baby.

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Not Doomed to Repeat Them

**Speculative fic inspired by a whole bunch of Season 5 spoilers**


“Fuck. Fuuuck!” Mickey sings out, arm slung around Ian as they stagger back to the Gallagher’s. “I might be drunk.”

“Might be,” Ian agrees, laughing right along with Mickey. He has a few nicks and bruises from the little scuffle they just got into at the bar, but Mickey’s definitely worse. His knuckles are all bloody, and a trickle of red keeps appearing on the side of his face no matter how many times he swipes at it.

It’s all right, though. Ian will fix him up as soon as they get home. Fix him up and then fuck him good.

‘Cause he’s feeling great right now. Energized, excited. Really fucking happy. He has Mickey and everything is amazing. They can roam the whole Southside together, terrorizing any assholes who’re looking for a beating. And they’ll win. Every time.

“Up the steps, Mick. Come on.” Ian urges him forward as they reach the porch.

“I’m not that drunk, man, shit.” Mickey bats his arm away, but he’s still smiling— his full-on happy smile, not just one of those cocky smirks.

So Ian matches his smile and they stumble through the door, straight into a living room filled with people.

Silence reigns abruptly, and everyone stares up at him. Fiona, Debbie, Carl, Lip—wasn’t he supposed to be headed back to college?—Kev, V, even fucking Svetlana. A trio of babies gurgles in a playpen nearby, but they too seem unusually quiet.

Ian’s smile fades. “Uh, hey guys. Didn’t think you’d be around.” He unzips his light jacket and turns toward Fiona. “Didn’t you say you were going to V’s tonight?”

The house was supposed to be empty. Empty and his—his and Mickey’s for the night.

“Yeah, I did say that. Which is kinda why I figured you’d be coming here.”

Her large brown eyes are even larger than usual. Dark circles fall like shadows underneath them, and the white parts are tinted red.

Ian takes a step back. “What’s going on?”

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