hand to wrist bracelet

anonymous asked:

What did dylan have around his wrists in the picture of him and eric dead was it bracelets

Those silvery gray ‘bracelets’ were functional match strikers which the boys’ ingeniously cut from the side of a box of matches and taped together with silvery grey electrical tape, each bracelet had two strikers. They could easily light the fuses of their pipe bombs and other incendiaries in a very consistently accessible manner. In the boys’ usual symbolically contrasting yin/yang, aesthetic, Dylan being left-handed, wore his striker bracelet on his right wrist and Eric being right handed wore his striker on his left wrist.  The ingenuity of their amateur invention was considered ingenious by the authorities.

Below: match striking strips cut from the side of a match boxes.


Originally posted by taetaehyungs

REQUEST: Hey i just read all of your fics hehe and i really like your writing! Can I request a very protective demon!tae fic pls? Doesn’t matter if fluffy or smutty thank you so much x

GENRE: Demon!au, Supernatural, smut(to come), slight angst, i have to make this fluffy of course

He was never supposed to meet her, but when he did, all he wanted to do was to keep her.

(PT3/??) - PT1, PT3

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View | jaehyun

Genre: bodyguard!AU | fluff, yikes! so much angst, mild swearing and a lot of sarcasm.

Member: Jaehyun / reader (3rd person perspective!!!!!)

Word count: 3000+

Note: sorry part 2 took so long, thank you all for being so patient!!

part: one | two


“This is unnecessary.” She mutters angrily, rubbing her forehead.

The scenery depicted through the car window is one she expected from Sydney. The clear ocean waves that threaten surfers and the laid back Australian attitude she dreamed of having. She doesn’t have to look behind her to know that there are two police cars tailing them, just as there are two in front.

“This is protocol.” Jaehyun reminds from beside her.

This is ridiculous.” She snaps back angrily, burying herself lower into the leather seat.

“You’re a brat.” he scoffs, rubbing his eyes like he’s tired of her.

She turns to glare at him, “Fuck you.”

“This death threat is serious.” He reminds, wide eyed, “They are not kidding so your protection is currently the police’s highest priority.”

She rolls her eyes and sneers, “It’s a bunch of kids messing around, it’s nothing.” She assures tiredly. “I just wanted to spend some time with my friends and visit some museums and now I can’t even do that because you’re over reacting.”

“I’m trying to protect you!” he retorts angrily.

“I don’t need your protection!” She roars with such ferocity that if he weren’t sitting he would have taken a step back. She slips reluctantly back into silence and huffs, wrinkling her nose. Her cheeks are flushed and he can tell she’s trying to calm down when her nails dig into the skin of her arm. “Is it so hard to understand that I just want to be normal?” she adds, quieter, but the type of quiet where the storm behind it is trying to tiptoe around the issue.

He watches her sadly and clasps his fingers together, not sure what to do with his hands, “But you’re not-”

If you asked her to recount the events, she would say she’s only seen them in her nightmares. She wouldn’t be able to give you a play by play but she remembers the screams. She remembers the broken glass and the blood that covered her fingers, dripping between her rings. She remembers the way he looked, like he was scared he would lose her. She remembers her head slamming into the seat before her and she remembers the blood curdling screech that came crawling out of her throat as she car flipped over.

She remembers Jaehyun holding onto her like she was a fragile china doll and she remembers the way it felt when the bullet grazed arm. She remembers screaming- she remembers looking for him, praying he was safe while she fumbled through the smoke and blood to find him. “Jae!” she croaks from where she’s lying against the roof.

Her legs are trapped between the seat and the floor and she tries to move but there’s a sharp pain that stabs somewhere in her chest. “Jaehyun.” she calls again, louder this time before erupting into a fit of coughs that wracked her body until blood spurts from her mouth. What the hell.

She hears distant sirens that are actually closer than she knows and she wafts the smoke away from her eyes, trying to find any indication as to where he could be. She wriggles her foot out from its trapped spot and crawls along the broken glass to where he was originally sat. “Jae.” she repeats to no avail as she finds nobody there.

The door on his side has been ripped off and she drags herself painfully through the broken glass as the distant sirens indicate help is on the way. she notices the police cars surrounding that have all crashed into various things and almost scoffs but then she scratches her whole upper arm on a sharp piece of glass and hisses. “Princess…” a voice croaks and she look up suddenly, the air rushing out of her lungs.

He’s laying down on the floor with blood on his shirt and scrapes on his face but his eyes are full of relief when he realises she’s okay. “Are you-” he starts coughing, his entire body shaking, “-okay?”

She drags herself over to him despite the fact that every single part of her hurts like she’s being stabbed by a thousand screwdrivers. He reaches out, wincing but still grabs her hand as she finally collapses beside him. “What happened?” she begs, tears in the corners of her eyes at seeing him like this, their bloodied fingers clinging to each other.

She can see the ambulances screeching to a halt but everything’s a haze of lights and sirens and his distant soft smile as he breathes strenuously, “You’re okay.” he groans, suddenly clutching his shoulder and s c r e a m i n g in utter agony and she realises he’s been shot. He hisses, his breathing coming out in short pants and his other hand doesn’t leave hers as she squeezes it- like she’s trying to keep him grounded.

“Help!” she shouts through the blood in her hair, “Help him!”

He manages to grin slightly, “Still think I can’t protect you?” he whispers.

She’s lost for words. Completely stunned into silence.

It’s her fault.

None of this would have happened if she hadn’t been there, if he hadn’t been working for her. She’s overwhelmed with this sense of guilt and her heart drops in her chest because she realises just how awful a person she is. She keeps hurting those around her, she keeps putting everyone in danger, she keeps hurting those she loves and only wants to protect for as long as she lives.

She realises that he could die because of who she is and how much he means to her. She swallows, her palms frozen around his hand and doesn’t say anything as his breathing continues to shallow. Even when the paramedics sprint over and start putting them on board and stabilising their spines, she doesn’t have anything to say.

She stops one of the paramedics with panic in her eyes, “Please make sure he’s okay.” she begs. The paramedic just nods and that’s enough to relieve her of a small amount of guilt. But how much water can you take out of a well at once?

Her: 2

Jae: 2

“You’re not supposed to leave your bed.” Jaehyun reminds, shuffling in the wheelchair.

She shrugs from behind him where one hand is wrapped around the handle bars and she’s pushing him down the corridor, “Neither are you.”

“My job is to go where you go.” he points out.

She rolls her eyes, “Not when you have six broken ribs, five metal pins in your knee, severe head trauma and you died on the operating table twice because of that fucking gunshot wound.” she hisses angrily and under her breath as she turns the corner and carries on down the freezing corridor towards the gardens.

“Well what about you?” he retorts, almost childishly pointing at her with the hand that isn’t trapped in a sling.

She narrows her eyes and continues to push his wheelchair towards the greenery she’s been promised, “What about me?” she asks tiredly, almost like she’s bored of this conversation.

Everytime he looks at her, he’s reminded of how he failed. How he couldn’t completely protect her and how she’s going to have scars on her body for the rest of her life. His voice is suddenly sombre, quiet and full of guilt, “You’ve got three broken ribs, a broken arm, 42 stitches in your thigh and whiplash.” he reminds, both himself and her.

She frowns, sensing the change in tone and then laughs heartily, “Alright, this isn’t a competition.” she scoffs.

“Not one you’re winning at least.” he smirks, trying his best to bury the guilt she knows he’s feeling.

The sliding double door open automatically and they’re immediately hit with a rush of fresh and warm air that envelops them in a hug and beckons them outside. His wheelchair bumps over the stone tiles and he’s pretty sure wheelchair motion sickness is a thing because he might just throw up. (she reminds him it’s a side effect of the concussion and he scoffs, ‘my head is fine’. She raises an eyebrow, ‘alright, how many fingers am i holding up.’ but he doesn’t move to look at her, ‘i don’t need to turn around to know you’re swearing at me’.)

She pushes him along the path, past other patients who are sitting outside, until they reach an empty bench. She leaves him beside it and takes a seat right one the edge, next to him. They’re both dressed in hospital gowns with butterfly plasters over their faces and scratches on their arms. Her arm is in a sling and the wrist on her other hand carries a hospital ID bracelet.

She takes a deep breath, the first breath of fresh air she’s had since the accident which seems like years ago at this point even though the evidence is clear it was recent. “You were right.” she admits, nodding.

He shrugs, “I usually am.”

She spares him a quick glare but shakes her head, “I should have taken it seriously.”

He doesn’t say anything, only looks around the garden. His fingers twist the leaf from a bush as he coughs awkwardly. “You’re alive aren’t you?”

They don’t say anything just yet. Choosing to bask in the cold morning air as she wind rustles through the trees and the leaves swirl along the pavement. There are rose bushes and sunflowers that tower over the other plants like they’re in charge. The other patients chatter and gossip and exchange stories. The cancer patients are smiling and she’s pleasantly surprised, but she can see the shadows in their eyes when they look away from each other.

“Thank you.” she blurts, looking down at her feet.

He frowns, “What for?”

She scoffs, “Saving my life.”

He nods, “It’s kind of my job.” he reminds. And when he doesn’t say anything he just nudges her arm, “Come on, don’t make this deep that’s not who you are.”

She flinches away from him and clutches her shoulder with a glare, “Hey, i’ve got stiches there.” she snaps and he rolls his eyes.

“Don’t be a wimp, i got shot.” he reiterates for like, the hundredth time.

She waves her hands, “Wow, how long are you going to milk that?” she sighs tiredly.

He looks aghast, “how long am i- listen here princess-” but she doesn’t let him finish, only presses her thumb against the bullet wound, enough to hurt him so that he hisses and bats her away with an angry scowl that hides a smile because they’re back to themselves now. She laughs when he clutches his shoulder and he shakes his head,  “I am never risking my life for you ever again.” he assures.

She laughs, throwing her head back and holding her hand to her chest when she still sees the betrayal in his eyes, “You’re so dramatic.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirks in response, pressing the ball of his hand into her thigh and she suddenly stops laughing, sucking in a sharp breath as her neck snaps forward and she digs her nails into his wrist.

Yah! What the fuck?” she growls and this time, he laughs, her hand still wrapped around his wrist.

“You should have seen your face!” he chuckles, shaking his head.

She glares, “You want me to see if I can give you an extra pin in your knee?” she threatens, wriggling her eyebrows as she balls her hand into a fist.

He glares, “I swear to god i’m gonna sue you for hostile work environment”

Her: still 2

Jae: still 2

‘If you’re reading this, two things have happened. One, you’ve woken up, and two, I’ve left. Don’t worry, i’m going home where i’ll be safe from any more attempts on my life.

There are a lot of things i want to say to you, a lot of things i don’t know how to say, but a lot of things i wish i could.

I wish you could stay with me. I wish we could stay together.

I wish you hadn’t taken this job. I really, really wish you hadn’t.

Don’t take this personally.

You’re fired.’

She didn’t think she would miss him as much as she does.

She mopes around the palace for a week, her bed covers around her shoulders as she wanders through the halls and wide corridors. There’s a swish swoosh as the fabric drags along the floor and she mumbles under her breath, something about how she doesn’t need him. She stays in the same pyjamas for a week and the maid complains because of the smell and begs to wash it.

She doesn’t talk, doesn’t ask for much and fluctuates between barely eating and midnight snacking. She rejects bodyguard after bodyguard because they’re ‘too tall’ or ‘too scary’ or maybe just because they’re not him. He calls her, one, twice, seventeen times, and she ignores him with immense difficulty. Her finger always swipes to accept that call but she always catches herself in time. He texts her, ‘Are you okay?’ and ‘what happened?’ and then a, ‘What did i do?’ and her heart squeezes in her chest, but she reminds herself that this is for his own good.

One day, she’s stumbling blindly in the early morning with the duvet around her shoulders when she finds herself staring out of a window from the main living room. Someone coughs, “Your Royal Highness.”

She doesn’t turn around, “I’m fine, I don’t need anything, leave me alone.”

“You’re forgetting I don’t work for you anymore.” says the voice that now she realises is painfully familiar.

She shuffles in her duvet to look behind her and her eyes widen slightly. He’s standing by the arm of the sofa in jeans and a T-shirt, the most casual thing she’s ever seen him wear, and a blank expression on his face, like he doesn’t want to let anything show. She wrinkles her nose and swallows, “What are you doing here?” she asks quietly.

He licks his lips and she involuntarily follows the action, “I need to empty my quarters.” He reminds and doesn’t miss the flash of guilt that sparkles in her eyes.

She nods, “Right.” she says absentmindedly.

He coughs, scratching his neck and winces slightly at the pain in his arm. There are still scratches and bruises that are slowly disappearing and this time, the guilt in her eyes is evident. “Can we talk?” he asks carefully.

She leans against the window pane, the duvet still around her and she shrugs, “We have nothing to talk about.” she tries to be strong, to not let anything show on her face but he knows her well enough to see it anyway.

He rolls his eyes, “Okay, I’ll talk, you listen.”

“I actually have things to do, princess duties to attend to and someone to knight, so if you’ll excuse me-” she pushes herself off the window pane but doesn’t get very far.

“Did I do something?” he interrupts.

She stops in her tracks, looking at anything but him and swallows uncomfortably, “No.” she murmurs.

He looks at his feet, “Did I say something? Was I not good enough-”

“No.” she shakes her head, “I just…” she trails off, glancing at him, “I don’t like seeing you get hurt because of me.”

“Oh thank god.” he breathes loudly, grinning and holding his hand to his heart as he finally takes a deep breath. She frowns as he continues to smile, “I thought it was something serious.” he snorts.

Her mouth gapes open and she stares, “That is serious.” she assures.

He shakes his head, still smiling, “Princess, my Job is to get hurt.”

“You nearly died!” she snaps back and the smile slowly disappears from his lips.

He cocks his head, slowly walking over to her with a soft look on his face, like he genuinely cares. “Baby, I’m okay.” he assures, his fingers tucking a strand deftly behind her ear and then not moving from her cheek.

“I’m not.” she whispers, her eyebrows pinched above her nose. “I miss you.” she mumbles under her breath like she can’t believe she’s telling him.

And he breathes into a soft smile as he pulls her into a hug, her head buried into his shoulder and her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. “I’m here, it’s okay.” he murmurs and she clings to his body, her heart hammering in her chest and she never wants to let go, “I’m here.”

“Please don’t leave me.” she asks quietly, in a voice as broken as he’s ever heard and he places a kiss on her forehead. Something twists in his gut at the feeling of her body against his and a soft smile make its way on his lips which he knots his fingers into her hair.

He places a kiss on her forehead, tender and gentle and she melts into his hold, “Never.”

her: 2

jae: 3

(because unfortunately, she does need him.)

“Are you okay?” she asks quietly, leaning towards him so he can hear.

He nods, “Why?”

She shrugs and turns back to face the front where the professor is scribbling notes onto the whiteboard. “You haven’t said anything since we walked in.”

He follows the professor’s hand as he writes pout sentences that, to Jae, make no sense because he’s not a science person and wrinkles his nose. This is the last place he expected to be when she told him to dress down. “I’m just surprised.”

Her fingers drag the pen across paper to copy what’s on the board with her eyebrows pinched together and her tongue between her teeth, “And why is that?” she asks, again quietly because they’re in a lecture hall.

He shrugs, “I mean… school?” He asks incredulously, holding his arms out to gesture around him.

She shrugs and keeps writing, “University.” She reiterates and he coughs.

“How exactly?” He asks, frowning and crossing his arms to scan the other students in the room.

She licks her lips, hanging off every word out of the professor’s mouth, “I called, explained my… situation-” she says under her breath like it’s some kind of sinful word, “-and they accepted me.” she notices the doubt in his eyes and she rolls hers, “I had the grades, I didn’t matter than I was a princess.”

He nods, crossing his arms, “but why?” He adds suddenly.

She glances at him from the corner of her eye, “You said I could be anything I wanted.” She shrugs under his hot gaze, “So I became a student.” and he doesn’t say anything, only stares at her in mild shock and complete pride and she eyes him out of the corner of her eye. A smile slowly etches itself across his lips and he’s genuinely beaming, “You’re staring.” she points out flatly, once more because this boy…

He smiles wider, “I like the view.” he responds.

She raises an eyebrow, pointing beside her to the picture of the river thames hung up on the wall, “What, of london?” she asks, like she smartass she is.

He smirks, “London doesn’t compare to you.”

“If I didn’t know any better i’d say you were flirting with me Jung Jaehyun.” she responds, mockingly puzzled.

He raises an eyebrow, “What, I can’t flirt with my girlfriend?” he cocks his head.

She smiles and his heart beats at a rate he’s never felt before, “God, what am I going to do with you.”

He wriggles his eyebrows, “We’ve go all day. And maybe even the rest of our lives.”

Her cheeks flare up again and she hits him on the shoulder, but he just laughs and tangles his fingers in hers like he never wants to let go.

her: 2

jae: 3

(he wins, but don’t tell him that, he’ll never let her forget it.)

part: one | two

more details from their tokyo date

many many anons requested this so here, just some fluff to cheer us up :)

also check out my other tokyo date oneshots? palace hotel and alec buying the omamori

let me know what you think!

They were sitting on a bench in the middle of a carnival and Magnus was telling Alec a story about the first time he came to Tokyo back in 1768. The bright lights cast rainbows across their faces and the aroma of food drifted through the air, begging to be eaten. Magnus was talking about how he would have never dreamed of seeing such rides like these back then and Alec was holding Magnus’ hand, playing with his rings and stroking his nails. They were a deep red today.

Alec seemed to be lost in his world and Magnus caught Alec absent-mindedly smiling at a point in the story that he really should not have been smiling at. Magnus stopped mid story and chuckled. “What?” he asked, amused.

Alec snapped his head up and didn’t know what to say. His mouth lay agape as he searched for something, anything, to reply with. Here Magnus was, revealing so many memories from his past, and Alec felt the need to share something from his that wanted Magnus to know. He smiled and shook his head, looking back down at Magnus’ hands. They were absolutely lovely, Alec thought.

“I remember I asked Izzy to paint my nails once,” he said, smiling fondly. “I was… I don’t know, 12?” Magnus smiled softly, watching Alec’s hand carefully glide over his fingernails. He figured this wasn’t something Alec told most people. Alec rolled his eyes slightly. “I picked the shiniest shade of black that she had,” he continued, chuckling at that just as Magnus did. “She was so excited. She always knew - I guess - that I was gay. I remember this one time, she slipped her bracelet onto my wrist… and I like the weight of it. I liked the sound of the beads as I trained.

Magnus grinned, looking up at his boyfriend’s face but Alec’s expression had contorted into a certain confusion, a look of strain. Magnus frowned and looked down at his hands to see Alec’s hovering over them warily. As though touching him would hurt.

Alec swallowed hard and continued. “When my mother noticed, she ripped it off my hand and forced me to scrub my nails clean.” Magnus frowned and noticed that Alec was watching his expression. He was scared of what Magnus would say to that. He had never really revealed those kinds of memories to anyone before.

Magnus looked down at his hands and slowly unclasped the beaded bracelet around his wrist, moving it towards Alec. He looked slightly hesitant at first but cracked a smile and held out his arm. Magnus secured the bracelet around Alec’s wrist and brought a hand up to touch Alec’s cheek.

Alec closed his eyes and leaned into the touch ever so slightly. His heart was stammering loudly in his chest. Magnus placed a soft kiss to Alec’s cheek and the boy felt his entire body heat up. But he felt at ease. He felt like he wasn’t trying to be anyone else, not when he was with Magnus.

Alec opened his eyes and turned his head to peck Magnus’ lips quickly. Magnus smiled at him but his gaze moved to look at something behind Alec, a glint in his eyes.

“Why do you look so excited?” asked Alec suspiciously.

Alec could see a childlike spark in Magnus’ eyes. “Because I see a photo booth,” he said and pointed to the flashing colourful lights detailing a very small box. “And that means we’re taking photos.”

Alec squinted one eye but Magnus just rolled his eyes at him, dragging him to his feet. “It looks very cramped. How are we even supposed to fit in that?” he asked.

“Oh come on!” teased Magnus. “I’m sure, amidst all your badass demon hunting, you’ve never had time to enjoy a photo booth.”

Alec sighed. “Alright, alright!” he exclaimed and Magnus’ face lit up.

They crawled inside and sat close together, shoulders touching and legs tangled. And Alec realised that he could travel the entire world, experience things he would have never dreamed of. But maybe Magnus wouldn’t disappoint him. And maybe he wouldn’t have to live with a lack of satisfaction for the rest of his life. And maybe Magnus was home.

i hope you enjoyed, let me know what you think! if you have any prompts or scenarios for me, please head over to my ask box.

in the meantime, in which magnus and jace deal with losing alec.

lord of shadows snippet

Cristina was there, in the middle of the room, looking up at one of the chandeliers. There was a row of three of them, unlit but glittering with crystal drops.

Mark let the door fall shut behind him and she turned. She didn’t look surprised to see him. She was wearing a plain black dress that looked as if it had been cut for someone shorter than her — it probably had been.

“Mark,” she said. “Couldn’t you sleep?”

“Not well.” He glanced ruefully down at his arm, though the pain had gone now that he was with Cristina. “Did you feel the same?”

She nodded. Her eyes were bright. “My mother always said that the ballroom in the London Institute was the most beautiful room she’d ever seen.” She looked around, at the Edwardian striped wallpaper, the heavy velvet curtains looped back from the windows. “But she must have seen it very much alive and filled with people. It seems like Sleeping Beauty’s castle now. As if the Dark War surrounded it with thorns and since then it has slept.”

Mark held out his hand, his wound circling his wrist like Julian’s sea-glass bracelet circled his. “Let us wake it up,” he said. “Dance with me.”

Secrets We Keep // Spencer Reid x Reader

Request:  Hey, 💕😁 your requests are open! YASS! ❤ Can you do an Imagine, where the reader is a very good trained assassin and dating Reid but she is also on the team. But she never talked about her training and maybe after a hard case, she tells him about her training to an assassin. And maybe she started to cry because, it was a really dark moment in her life. ❤💕 Love ya and i hope it’s not a problem to write about this 😊

A/N: I apologize for how long this took! I rewrote it a million times and I’m still not sure I’m 100% happy with it but oh well lol. I hope you like it!

“Penelope?” you asked in surprise as you opened your front door. It was late, and Penelope had always been the type to call before dropping in for a visit.

“I did something,” Penelope began, her voice rising as it did when her anxiety over situations arose. “I know I shouldn’t have. I tell myself I need to stop being so nosy but I have the information right there at the tip of my fingers and I just can’t-”

“Pen,” you interrupted. “What did you do?”

She fell silent for a moment as she fidgeted in place. You watched as her hands nervously played with the bracelets on her wrists before she strode into your home.

“Penelope,” you repeated as you shut the door. “What did you do?”

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I'm suddenly standing at the beginning with you

For @nerdyadventures Happy birthday my friend, I’m 10 days late and I made you beta this but this is for you and for keeping up with my texts all the time and humoring me and texting me back. You’re wonderful and I can’t it to be January so we can hang out in Disneyland.

This is the start of a hopefully 3 part story. I hope you guys like it.

Piper was applying lipstick to her lips while Sally and Hazel worked on her hair but Annabeth was hardly paying attention to them, her brain kept thinking about what was about to happen… in less than an hour she would stop being Annabeth Chase and she would become Annabeth Jackson. In less than an hour, she would be marrying the love of her life. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to keep the butterflies in her belly at bay.

It had been so long since Percy had caused her butterflies but it wasn’t a bad thing, after all, they had been together for almost eight years and known each other for eleven. Percy didn’t give her butterflies anymore but he gave her a feeling of safety, love, home, happiness and that was better than any butterfly. She felt weirdly calm, she never thought this was how she would be feeling moments away from her wedding, like any bride she had her bridezilla moments but they didn’t last long, not when they usually ended in Percy’s arms, his voice soothing the stress away, joking how they could elope in any moment, how the only thing that matters was their love.      

“You look beautiful, honey.” Sally’s voice brought her back from her thoughts, her future mother-in-law had tears in her eyes. Annabeth looked at her reflection in the mirror, two beautiful braids worked as a headband and they ended in a messy bun with small white flowers braided into it, Piper had given her a beautiful but minimal makeover, hints of gold framed her eyelids, her lips had a peachy color on them and her cheeks were covered in light pinks and she looked, well, she looked like the blushing bride she wasn’t. “But you are missing something.”

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Apologetic - Mark

A/N: Wow, I always really get into writing Mark fluff^^
This is basically based off Winner’s song, Don’t Flirt.
-Admin Finn

Word Count: 740

Mark leant across the cast iron table, taking your hand in his own, inspecting the bracelet upon your wrist.

“Is that new?”

You nodded, placing the fork you held down on the cheesecake platter.

“It was a gift from one of my friends,” you remarked, grinning as you glanced at the bracelet.

“It looks expensive,” your boyfriend murmured, releasing your hand, and lounging in his chair once more.

His brows furrowed as he thought about which friend it could possibly be. Which of your friends had the money to buy you such a nice gift? He couldn’t help but feel there was a romantic undertone to it; the flashy rose gold hearts making his brows furrow even more. A gnawing thought crept to his mind.
His thoughts were interrupted as you picked up the fork once more, cradling a soft piece of cheesecake. You held the silver fork before Mark, your sparkling eyes disappearing as you chuckled at his astounded reaction.
He pushed his thoughts away, gladly accepting your offering.

“I can’t stay for long-”

The phone against your ear crackled as Mark muttered something.

“Because I’m meeting a friend at noon in Hongdae,” you replied, hurrying up the stairs, toward the studio.

You hung up as you reached room 206, pulling the glass door open.
You smiled upon receiving greetings from Taeil and Johnny as they passed you out the door.

“How long can you stay?”

“About twelve minutes-”

Mark sat upon the sofa, several notebooks and papers scattered about on the coffee table. He ran a hand through his tresses, letting out a sigh; he was clearly stressed.
You sat beside him, running a hand along his arm, giving his shoulder an endearing squeeze. His gaze met your own before trailing along your figure.

“You look pretty today,” he complimented.

You smiled, brushing his fringe from his eyes.

“Which friend are you going to meet?”

His gaze fell to the sparkling bracelet upon your wrist before settling on your exposed shoulders. His expression seemed to darken.
He didn’t give you a chance to answer, abruptly standing.

“Why is your makeup so heavy today?”

He paced toward the door, turning from you.

“Are you seeing someone else?”


“Just tell me,” he groaned.

“You’re insane,” you blurted, standing.

“Who gave you that damned thing?” he questioned, meeting your gaze as he gestured to your wrist.

Flabbergasted, you stuttered, “S-She’s just a friend-”

Mark slouched in a nearby chair as soon as he heard your confession. His mind had been gnawing at him for days that you were seeing another man.
He let his hands cradle his face as he stared at the rug.

“Baby, I would never,” you sniffled.

Mark stood as he heard your muffled sniffle, his expression morphing from pained to guilt-ridden.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, tugging you into an embrace, “I don’t want you to cry-”

“I wanted to look nice for you,” you whined, sniffling.

Mark drew back, his gaze fretful.

“You look gorgeous,” he complimented, “You always do.”

His lips pressed to your forehead as he pulled you into his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, “I love you so much.”

Your eyes brimmed with tears, yet they refused to fall.
Your lips parted in astonishment as you felt a hot tear land on your shoulder. You drew back suddenly, searching for Mark’s gaze. He avoided your gaze, a soft sniffle escaping him.

“Don’t cry,” you murmured, caressing his cheeks, “I forgive you-”

His bleary gaze met your own, his expression one of despair.

“I know you’ve been stressed lately and working so hard,” you soothed, wiping a stray tear away from his cheek with your warm thumb, “I’m sorry I’ve been distant and not been there for you like I should-”

“Stop-” he protested, brushing your hands from his face, “I’m the one who should be apologizing, not you.”

You were unsure of what else to say, tugging his lips to meet your own as you hastily gripped the shoulders of his shirt.
His nostrils flared as he tried to catch his breath, his lips clumsily following your own.

“I love you so much-” you murmured against his lips as you parted for a breath.

“You’re going to be late-” he whispered, letting his forehead meet your own.

You brushed his fringe from his gaze one more, letting your hand settle on his soft cheek.

“I want this weekend to be about us,” you cooed, “Stress-free and with just each other.”

He drew you into another embrace, burying his face in your soft hair.

anonymous asked:

Don't know if requests are open but it's worth a shot? I've admired your blog a lot lately, it's great! <3 what about the bros s/o left behind in Insomia even though they were skeptical about an attack but stayed anyways and how do they find eachother again? Hope you have a nice day ;v;

Thank you so much! I do hope to keep impressing you! I really love writing these kind, because you get to focus on the reactions, which I also seem to make dramatic. Lol

Tried doing something a little more different this time.



No matter what, Noctis couldn’t believe it, his father, his home gone. He wanted you to come on this road trip, but you instead declined, wishing to stay home and assist his Father, as the future Princess of the Lucian people, you needed to be seen more often. Besides you stated you wanted to bond with your future father in law, and wanted Noctis to enjoy his boy’s trip and the next time that the two of you would be together would be your wedding day in Altissia.

Noctis could still feel the soft kiss against his lips, as you bid him farewell with a bright smile, wearing the beautiful dress he had picked out for you, an early wedding present. He remembered you often stating that you never knew what to wear to these kinds of things, you were just a commoner in love with a Prince.

“Are you sure?” Noctis asked once again as you followed him to the bottom of the stairs, flanked by your Lady in waiting.

You smiled softly, “Go have fun with the boys, I’ll see you soon, and when we get home, we’ll celebrate.”

Yet now the Prince had no home to return to, no family, no you. He kept ringing your phone hoping to get ahold of you, yet the first time it went to your voicemail. By the tenth time that he had listened to your voicemail message, he had realized that he was doing it simply to hear your voice one last time.

Keep reading

We’ve got your back. (both twins x reader)

Request: “Can I have an Imagine where y/n is their little sister and she has an abusive boyfriend and the twins find out. Can u plz also include the rest of the dolan family in a way”

Word count: 1,405

Warnings: Abuse \ language \ violence

A/N: Hii! So this is definitely much different to anything I would be used to writing. Obviously, the theme of abuse and violence is a very sensitive topic so I tried my best to write this carefully. I also just wanted to let you all know that my ask and messages are always open if any of you ever need someone to talk to about anything!!

- Im also thinking about writing a part two for this so please let me know if you want me to write one!! Requests are open too so please don’t ever be afraid to ask. X 


Being the youngest of four siblings, you were constantly surrounded by friends growing up. Those friends being your partners in crime, Cameron, Ethan and Grayson. With the small age gap of only a year and a half between you and your two brothers and a little over three years with your sister, you were all inseparable. None of you was ever left lonely. You all had each other’s backs. So, when your three older family members moved out you felt more alone than ever.

Sitting on the rough carpet in your boyfriend’s bedroom, you examine your bracelet. You had gotten it as a gift for your 16th birthday from Cameron and the twins. It was silver with three charms hanging from it, they were the letters C, E and G. You were quickly snapped out of your thoughts when a rough hand tightly grasped around the wrist where your bracelet hung from.

“Don’t ignore me?” your boyfriend said as he pulled you to your feet by the wrist which he still had a strong grip on.

“ow, go easy you’re hurting me”. The words slipped from your mouth before you could stop them.

“what did you just say to me?”

“n-nothing I’m sorry”

 This was a regular occurrence between the both of you. He was way too rough with you and he knew it. The words he would spit at you when nobody was around, the way his hands would grip onto you too tightly far too often, him forcing you into situations you weren’t comfortable with, you both knew it was wrong but neither of you stopped it. What you had was nowhere near a relationship, it was more of a convenience. You didn’t feel happy with him, but at least you weren’t lonely.

 A few hours later you sat on the corner of your boyfriend’s bed, pulling your t-shirt that had been discarded a while earlier over your shoulders. Quietly stepping into the bathroom you’re met with your reflection. Your eyes are drawn to the dark oval shaped bruises on your hips, they were two weeks old. Then your sight shifted to just above your elbow where the imprints of a large hand print that wrapped around the perimeter of your arm. That happened about a month ago. You were out with your friends and your boyfriend when a boy approached you. Twenty minutes later you were being dragged by your upper arm into your boyfriend’s car, being accused of “flirting with the dickhead”.  The marks were older and had now turned a yellowish colour.  A shaky breath escaped your mouth as your vision blurred with the tears that were now welling in your eyes. How could you let this happen to yourself?

 You re-enter the cramped stuffy bedroom and quickly begin to collect your things when you heard the springs of the bed creak.

“where do you think you’re going?”

“Home. I’m going out with my dad today remember?” you mumble with your back turned to him so that he wouldn’t see your shaken state.

“no, you’re not”

That was it. Something inside of you just snapped there and then. You couldn’t stand being controlled anymore.

“YOURE NOT IN CHARGE OF MY FUCKING LIFE I’M GOING HOME WHETHER YOU WANT ME TO OR NOT!” the sudden outburst of anger took both of you by surprise, leaving the room in dead silence for a few seconds. He stood up from the bed, now towering over you. his breathing was heavy as he stared at you while your body felt as if it was glued to the ground. Suddenly you were hit with such a blunt force you’re knocked backwards off of your feet. You felt as if the right side of your cheekbone had just burst into flames, a burning sting that was travelling across your face.

 The silent room was interrupted by your phone buzzing on the floor a few feet from you. The caller id lit up showing “dad” on the screen. You slowly take the phone into your hands and slide your thumb over the screen.

“h-hello” you tried to make your voice sound strong but it came out hoarse.

“hi honey, where are you? you said you would be back almost three hours ago. Is everything alright?” his worried tone made your heart sink as you realise how much it would hurt him if he ever knew what had just happened.

“yeah dad everything fine, I just overslept I’ll be home in a few minutes” you explained, desperately trying to sound convincing.

 You scramble to your feet, and leave without saying a word to your boyfriend who was still staring you down as you shut the door behind you.

Entering your car, you take a deep breath and start the ignition. Your mind was racing but it was also completely blank as you tried to comprehend what he just did. You pull into your garden before you realise you were even home, not remembering the car journey at all. Your body felt like it was on autopilot, your legs were taking you where you needed to go but your mind was still 20 steps behind you.

Slamming your front door behind you, you step into your home. All of a sudden, the weight of three other bodies tackled you and you found yourself lying at the bottom of a pile of siblings.



What should have been the happiest moment in months, was now diluted with the thousands of other emotions that were surging through you right now. You were speechless. You stared at the three faces in front of you as you’re pulled upwards, one hand in Ethan’s the other in Grayson’s. As they steadied you Cameron pushed through the middle of your two brothers and placed her hands on your shoulders. They knew there was something up as you literally were struggling to look them straight in the eye. Never mind speak.

“Y/N what the fuck happened to your face?”  Cameron whispered to you as she stroked her thumb over the prominent reddening mark on your cheekbone. This earned a wince from you, the pain again being revived due to the pressure of her finger.

“And how did you get these marks on you wrist Y/N?” Ethan said as he lifted up your hand. He brought it closer to his face as your fingers shook in his palm. He noticed how much you were shaking and put his other hand over yours, trying to calm you down.

 “y/n-“ Grayson said as he placed his hand on your upper arm where your bruises were hidden under your clothes. You jumped at the unexpected rush of pain, which made Grayson furrow his eyebrows. Your three siblings looked from each other to you. Grayson slowly and softly lifted up the arm of your t-shirt, almost scared at what he was about to see on his baby sisters skin. The fabric reached your shoulder and the sight of the large yellow and brown hand print was revealed to them.  A few tears fell from Grayson’s eyes as he quickly dropped the clothing. In all your life you had only ever seen either of your brothers cry once or twice, so seeing him so distraught make your stomach turn.

 “I-I just-“ “he -he” - you stuttered trying to explain where the marks had come from.  Your body wouldn’t allow you to speak at all, you felt your legs cave in under you as you fell to the floor with Cameron grabbing you under your arms to support you.

“shhh” its okay, we’ve got you now don’t worry” she whispered in your ear. You sat on the floor with her for a few seconds before you realised that the two twins were gone.

“Cam. where are E and Gray gone??” you asked her only then to hear the sound of two car doors being slammed very forcefully.

“They’re gone to take care of it” Cameron said softly as she rubbed your hair still trying to calm you.

 You didn’t notice but, as soon as they heard you say “he” they knew. They knew exactly who you were talking about and what he had done to you. They were out the door as fast as lightning, ready to take care of their baby sister. They always had your back.

Day 18 – Comfortable Silence

fandom: naruto
characters/pairings: sasusaku
a/n: sasusaku month, ssm17d18

Resting on his wife’s lap, Sasuke feels like sleeping.

Lying on his side, Sakura’s thighs, smooth and cool pillow nicely his head. Her hand is like a feather, gentle and light, brushing his hair and scratching his scalp—his spine shudders and his ears twitch; he’s basking in the exquisite sensations.

Her arms are completely bare, he feels no bracelets hanging on her wrists. Her hands have a nice and clean smell, like antiseptic but the scent is so faint Sasuke can barely perceive it since he’s so used to it; first from his past days in Orochimaru’s lair, then from the time he’s spent in the hospital after the war. However, he has since long grown to appreciate it, having associated the smell with his wife.

Her fingers untangle his black hair, tucking loose locks behind his ear before he feels her nails gently and slowly grazing his scalp. Sasuke knows she knows the way she moves her fingers on his scalp makes him tingle; she can feel the smallest tremors that run through his body and he’s quite certain she’s smiling above him, amused by the way his body reacts to her. With her other hand, the fluffy puff of the mimikaki goes swoosh and whoosh around his ear.

As far as he can remember, Sakura’s touch has always been therapeutic to him. It’s a gentle touch, tender and warm. He feels calmer, more serene.

(As a matter of fact, he sleeps best when he has his arm draped over her, her hand covering his or when Sakura cuddles him from behind with her hand inside his shirt, as though she’s checking his body temperature.

But, if Sasuke’s honest, he knows she does this to feel his muscles.)

When she touches him, Sasuke feels like he’s lying on the grass on a spring day.

It’s soothing.

Sure, there are times when they are feverish and passionate—and they happen more often than Sasuke will ever admit—but these quiet moments are the ones Sasuke relishes in the most. Words are silent and eyes don’t meet but it’s intimate and very, very peaceful. It’s in the way she touches him, when she grazes lightly over the helix of his ear with her nails, when she tucks his hair behind his ear because she doesn’t want loose strands to get in the way of her ear cleaning. It’s in the way she moves the mimikaki, drawing lazy circles around his ear with the white puff, and then picking on his ear with the other end.

It’s a nice feeling indeed—to feel cherished.

We're Happy

read on ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/12389502

Now that its canon that Malec do lame couple things like take photobooth pictures I just HAD to write a fic about how those photos Magnus was looking at in 2x19 went down. Again I am writing this to cure my pain from all the angst lol. Enjoy!

“I don’t think the food there has ever tasted that good, maybe they got a new chef”

Magnus’ eyes are twinkling in the moonlight and the warm wind is rustling through his hair as the two of them walk down a path in a park after their dinner in Tokyo.

Alec grins and blushes as Magnus’ knuckles brush his own.

“Maybe you were just hungry,”

Magnus winks at Alec, and Alec feels his heart stutter in his chest.

“That could have been it too,” he waves his hand and the bracelets hanging off his left wrist catching Alec’s eye.

They glint in the moonlight and Alec can’t stop staring. He’s always loved Magnus’ jewelry, he loves watching the way they hang off his wrists and neck and make the warlock seem shinier and more beautiful than he already is and he loves how he can feel their coolness against him when he’s close enough. They’d always fascinated him and looking at the simple bracelets around Magnus’ wrist Alec has the sudden, unexplainable urge to see what they’d look like against his own skin.

Magnus follows his stare and chuckles.

“You like it?” He asks, smirk on his face.

Alec blushes and looks up at Magnus through his eyelashes, unable to fully look at him.

“I like all your jewelry.”

Magnus preens and tilts his head,

“Why thank you my Alexander,”

Alec keeps staring at the bracelets as Magnus’ hands move and he tries to work up the courage to ask if he can try it on.

He doesn’t know why he’s so scared, this is Magnus, he wouldn’t say no, and he certainly wouldn’t make fun of him, but for some reason the words won’t come out.

“Are you alright?” Magnus places a hand on Alec’s shoulder, stopping the both of them in the middle of the path.

“I-er-I was wondering-” he gestures lamely at the bracelet and Magnus looks at him confused a moment.

Alec is worried he’ll actually have to say what he wants for a second before recognition dawns in Magnus’ eyes and he smiles up at Alec.

“Do you want to try it on?” He asks quietly, stepping closer into Alec’s space as if he’s telling him a secret.

All Alec can do is nod and watch as Magnus gracefully slides the bracelets off his wrist and places them in Alec’s hand.

His eyes have gone incredibly soft and Alec doesn’t know what to do with that, so he looks away, eyes darting to the bracelets now in his hand.

“Well,” Magnus gestures to the bracelets, “put them on, it’s not like they’re going to bite.”

He’s still looking at Alec with the same soft look as Alec slides the bracelets onto his wrist. He grins when they settle against his skin and moves his hand around to watch the moonlight glint off of them in awe.

He startles when Magnus gasps exaggeratedly and pulls Alec’s hand to his face,

“My my, it seems you look even more stunning than I do in this.”

Alec rolls his eyes but he can feel his cheeks burning.

“I might just have to dress you up more often,”

Magnus looks Alec up and down, before pulling him into a kiss that last much longer than Alec had anticipated.

When they’ve pulled apart Magnus is wearing a sinister look and Alec sees a smirk make its way across his face.

“I wonder,” he says trailing off and pulling off his ear cuff.

Alec’s eyes widen,

“No, get that away from me,” he giggles and ducks as Magnus advances towards him.

Magnus turns and gives Alec a mischievous look,

“No one can escape the High Warlock of Brooklyn,” he says, his voice playful and eyes aloof.

Alec giggles again and turns and runs down the path, Magnus close behind.

They probably look like idiots, two grown men shrieking and running down a path at eleven at night but the wind in his ears and the happiness in his veins as he runs away from something that doesn’t want to kill him is something that Alec didn’t realize he needed till now.

He tumbles to the grass when Magnus rams into him from behind and they land in a tangled giggling mess.

“Chasing a Shadowhunter with a stamina rune is hard work,” Magnus gets out after a few minutes of heavy breathing.

As they get to their feet Magnus looks over Alec’s shoulder and his eyes light up as he spots something behind him.


“Photobooth,” Magnus points and before Alec can say anything he’s being dragged across the street.

When they get to the photobooth, Magnus excitedly ushers Alec inside.

Alec has never actually been in a photobooth before, he’s never done a lot of mundane things before really until he’d met Magnus so he’s just a bit nervous as he sits down next to Magnus.

“Relax Alexander, it’s just you and me and a crappy camera.” Magnus says reassuringly over his shoulder because he’s Magnus and he somehow always knows what Alec needs to hear.

Alec releases the tension in his body and drapes his arms across Magnus’ shoulder, making sure the camera can see the bracelet on his wrist in full display before smiling at the camera and blinking out the momentary blindness from the flash.

Magnus laughs at Alec and he can’t help but look at the warlock with a smile, completely missing the fact that another picture is being taken.

Alec soon relaxes, it is just him and Magnus and a crappy camera. He turns to Magnus a couple photos later and didn’t hesitate before crashing his lips to the warlock’s.

Magnus squeaks in surprise and Alec loses his balance, sending them both toppling over on the photobooth seat.

They’re laughing when they get back up just in time for the last photo and the flash sends Alec into even more hysterical laughter.

When they stumble out of the photobooth they’re handed two strips of photos, one with the proper cute couple photos from the start, Magnus’ bracelet glinting on Alec’s wrist and then a strip featuring Alec’s failed kiss and the aftermath.

Alec looks at the second strip and is surprised by how happy he looks. He’s never seen himself look like that and he almost feels as if he’s looking at someone entirely different from himself.

Magnus chuckles when he sees the photos,

“We’re a disaster,” Alec laughs.

“We’re happy,” Magnus corrects before handing Alec the pictures of them falling over, “why don’t you keep those.”

He places the other strip into his pocket and Alec smiles.

When they portal back to the loft. Magnus slips the photo strip into a painting in his hallway. Saying he wants it to be one of the first things he sees when he comes home.

If Alec smiles his whole way back to the Institute no one has to know.

The Bastard of Winterfell Part 3

Jon Snow x Reader (second person)

1777 words

Jon Snow is ~getting married~!

A/N: Thank you for the love so far!!

Part 1: http://onceuponaoneshotfanfic.tumblr.com/post/162619181618/the-bastard-of-winterfell

Part 2: http://onceuponaoneshotfanfic.tumblr.com/post/162658973923/the-bastard-of-winterfell-part-2

Something landed on you. Hard.

And suddenly your face was soaked with slobber.

“Ghost!” you shrieked, laughing and pushing the direwolf off of you.

“Ghost! Come here!”

The direwolf took one last curious look at you and bounded off. Jon Snow knelt down and stroked Ghost’s white fur. He looked over at you, offering a small smile and wave as he walked into the library, where you had fallen asleep while reading.

“Sorry!” he called as you got up and snatched your book off the floor.

You laughed. “It’s fine,” you said as you approached him. You stood close.

He shifted his weight. “I… was looking for you actually.”

“And you knew I would be in here.” You held up your book. “Reading.”

“Sleeping, from what I saw.” He smirked at you.

You laughed. “Fine, I dozed off. Lady Stark did tell me I should rest this morning.”

Jon nodded. “Aye. Especially considering tonight…” He trailed off, his cheeks turning red, a brighter red than you had ever seen. “Well the ceremony is… and then the party…”

A large smile spread across your face. It had finally come. Your wedding. You were due to head to Sansa’s room soon for one last fitting into your dress, giving her the whole day to make any changes. Later, your family would arrive to help prepare the castle for that evening. Your mother and sisters would help you get ready, although you insisted that Sansa and Arya get to help as well. In the evening you would head to the forest for the ceremony, after which you would celebrate in the Great Hall. And after that…

Now you had a blush that matched Jon’s as you shoved aside the thoughts that had been increasingly invading your mind as the wedding drew closer.

Jon cleared his throat. “Right. Well, I have a present for you.”

Finally you noticed the small bag in his hand. You lifted your wrist, showing off the snowflake bracelet you had worn every day since your name day. “Can it compare with this?” you teased.

He smiled. “I believe it can. Close your eyes.”

You did as you were told and felt Jon walk behind you. Something cold touched your neck and you shivered in response. Jon chuckled.


You looked down.  A dainty snowflake, matching the ones on your bracelet, now hung from your neck. “It’s perfect,” you breathed. Jon was absolutely beaming at you as the two of you leaned forward-

“A snowflake from the snowflake,” a voice from the doorway called out.

The two of you turned. Theon stood in the doorframe, smirking.

“And there goes that moment,” Jon muttered under his breath. He cleared his throat. “Yes, Theon?” he asked, a roughness to his voice.

“Lord Robb wanted me to collect you,” he announced as he strolled over. “Wedding preparations and whatnot.”

Jon nodded. “Thank you.” He turned back to you. “I probably will not see you again until this evening,” he said, the gruffness in his voice gone. He gave your hand a quick squeeze. “Do you still wish to marry me?” he asked teasingly.

You kissed his nose. “I suppose you shall find out tonight.”

He chuckled. “Fair enough, my lady. Until tonight.” He turned and walked out of the room.

Theon held back a moment. “You know,” he started. “My favorite part of any wedding has always been the bedding cere-”

“THEON GET AWAY FROM HER!” Jon’s voice bellowed from the doorway. Theon jumped and followed Jon out of the room.

You chuckled to yourself and headed to Sansa’s room.

As the sun went down, you sat in your room, waiting for your father to come up so he could escort you outside. The Starks, your siblings, and all the other guests were gathering in the godswood now.

You mother watched you carefully as you stared out the window, fiddling with the snowflake necklace anxiously. It was your first time alone with her since you had left home.

“Are you nervous?” she asked, eyebrow raised.

After a moment’s thought, you shook your head. “Excited, actually,” you admitted.

“Hmm.” You mother followed your gaze to the yard below. “What exactly do you do with yourself here at Winterfell?”

A surprisingly friendly question. “I read a lot. Lady Sansa helps me with my needlework.” You omitted your weekly archery practice with Arya. “Lord and Lady Stark gifted me with a horse for my name day, so I ride a lot.” You tried to suppress the smile that grew on your lips. “I like to watch Jon practice his swordplay in the afternoons. Or when he decides he doesn’t want to practice we go for walks in the forest with his direwolf. Or on especially cold days we sit by the fire and I read aloud to him.”

“Does he not know how to read for himself?” your mother asked coldly.

You frowned. “He reads perfectly,” you corrected her. “He just likes to hear me read. He lays back and closes his eyes and… listens.” You bit your lip. “He’s lovely. Really,” you added quietly.

Your mother hummed. “I’m sure he is. For a bastard.”

A scowl crossed your face. “He is the bastard your daughter is marrying, per your husband’s orders. So I suggest you silence yourself or do not join us in the forest tonight,” you snapped. “Jon Snow is good. And kind. And honorable. And gods, if he is not the handsomest man I have ever laid eyes upon.” Your mother opened her mouth, but you were on a roll. “And he asks permission before taking my hand or kissing my cheek. And he is nervous and sweet around me. Not like those lords and knights who all look as me as though I am something for them to devour, some pawn in your games.” Tears stung in your eyes. “So yes, Mother. You and Father had to give me to the bastard of Ned Stark and that is forever a stain on your precious name, for a lady of our house to become a Snow. But if you think I am going to let you abuse the man I will love for the rest of my life, you are sadly mistaken.” You exhaled sharply. Seven hells that felt good.

A small knock caused you both to jump. You opened the door to find Arya, holding a cloak and looking a bit sheepish. You melted at the sight of her.

“Sansa almost forgot to give this to you,” she murmured. “I volunteered to bring it.”

You allowed Arya to help you fasten it around you. You stepped back. “What do you think?”

Arya smiled. “Jon is going to blush more than usual when he sees you.” Suddenly her arms were around you, nearly knocking you over. She planted a small kiss on your cheek. “I am so happy you are marrying him,” she whispered. “Now we shall be sisters. Real sisters.”

You returned her smile. “Aye. We shall.”

With one last embrace, she scurried off, nearly knocking into your father.

He took a deep breath when he saw you. “You look wonderful. Are you ready?”

You glanced at your mother, who was not even looking at you. You turned your gaze back to your father and took a deep breath. “Very ready.”

The cold bit at you the moment you left the castle. But you trudged on, grasping your father’s arm, heading towards the godswood. In the distance you could see the lights held by the people gathered around the Heart Tree, where you knew Jon stood.

You smiled up at your father and gave his arm a squeeze.

He looked down at you thoughtfully. “How do you feel?”

“Happy,” you admitted.

Your father nodded, a small smile on his face. “Good.”

The lights grew closer and brighter. At last, you could make out the figures that held the torches, recognizing several faces. Finally, you willed yourself to look at him-

Jon stood beside his father, grinning from ear to ear. You could tell he had tried to tame his hair, but you were pleased to see that the curls you loved were still just as wild as ever. The blush you had come to find endearing was visible, even in the darkness of the evening.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered as you got closer. You father rose an eyebrow at Jon, deepening his blush.

You smiled at the exchange. Oh yes. You were ready.

Sometime between the ceremony and the party, something changed in Jon. He was no longer quiet and hesitant to touch you; instead, he spent the party by your side, whispering sweet nothings and pet names in your ear, and he was surprisingly affectionate the entire evening: holding your hand, tracing shapes on your arm with his fingers, his arm around your shoulders.

“Have I told you in the last five minutes how beautiful you are?” Jon’s breath was warm in your ear as his fingertips grazed your hand.

You smiled at him. “No, you have not.”

“My apologies.” He gently kissed your temple. “You are the most stunning woman in all the North.”

“Just the North?” you teased.

Another kiss found your cheek. “All of Westeros.” Another kiss. “The entire world.”

You giggled and sat happily, holding his hand. As the night wore on you saw the crowd growing a bit… rowdy. And a few drunk eyes began looking yours and Jon’s way.

Thankfully, Jon was ahead of you.

“Do not worry,” he whispered. “I already told Robb there will be no bedding ceremony this evening.” He winked at you.

“Thank you,” you murmured, kissing his cheek.

As if on cue, Robb, who apparently was taking his job very seriously, intervened. Grabbing the hand of some lucky young lady, he insisted that everyone return to dancing at once. Everyone obeyed the young lord’s order. With this distraction in place, Jon grabbed your hand and hurried you out into the corridor. The two of you ran, laughing, for a while before deciding it was safe. You stopped and leaned against a wall, out of breath. Jon sank down to the floor, smiling up at you.

“Remind me that I owe Robb one,” he said between breaths. You nodded, laughing through your gasps for air.

Finally, once you were able to breathe, Jon stood and took your hand. The two of you walked in an empty silence towards the room you would now share. You stopped at the door. Jon held you close and planted a kiss on the top of your head.

“Ready?” he asked gently.

You nodded and kissed his lips. “Ready.”

Showers and Feelings ➸ Brett Talbot

Request: Could you please write a Brett one where the reader’s Liam’s best friend and she naturally doesn’t like Brett but Stiles forces them to stay at home together to watch over someone and they end up doing it in the shower?

IM BAAAAAAAACCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKK i apologize for taking so long anon but here it isss!!!!! not as smutty as it could have been but vvvvvv fluffy






“No. Absolutely not!”

Stiles sighs at your stubbornness. “Please Y/N,” the he pleads with you, “Please, we need you to watch him, just this once.”

“Are you kidding me, Stiles?” you growl, E/C eyes flashing blue, “It’s not about that. But you expect me, while you go out looking for this Benefactor, for me to stay home with the giraffe over here and some random ass beta?” Brett growls and bares his canines at your words. You only sneer at him before letting out a challenging snarl. Brett roars in provocation and advances towards you, eyes glowing, teeth bared, claws extended. But you weren’t afraid. You felt your own canines slide over your lip, and then a chick is heard as you reveal your sharpened claws.

“Bring it, Talbot,” you jeer as he let’s out yet another growl. And then he’s rushing at you. A few feet in front of you, Brett leaps in the air and raises a clawed hand to slash at you. You push yourself off the wall behind you and meet him halfway. The two of you crash in midair and fall to the ground. Brett slashes at your face and you go for his throat with your teeth. You roar in pain as the Talbot boy’s claws drag across your face, easily breaking the soft flesh. Blood drips down your face as you catch his wrist in your mouth, biting down so that the bone fractures. He snarls and struggles against your powerful hold. You release him with a howl of pain when his claws dig into your stomach. Writhing out of his grip on the floor, you deliver a two-legged kick to Brett’s chest and the he shoots away from you.

Brett cradles his injured hand and multiple cracks are heard as his body puts his bones back into place. You hiss as you feel your own wound mending and the skin flowing back together. Your fangs have dulled but your eyes remain glowing a steel blue as you get up and face Brett once again. You snarl at him, hatred burning in his own eyes as you stare each other down.

As you raise your hand to rip his throat out, a roar is emitted from Scott. Your Alpha’s eyes are blood red, and his multitude of sharpened canines were showing as he roared. Both you and Brett are thrown back by an invisible force, though it affected you more than he. You’re immediately shifted back to your human form as you hit the wall. Clawing at your ears, you whimper, just the noise made by your Alpha was hurting you. You whimper again, your body being  wracked by tremors from an unknown source. Liam is by your side in less than a second on his knees.

“Scott,” Liam growls, “What did you do?”

“I was being her Alpha.”

Eventually the tremors stop and you get up with only slight discomfort, Liam at your side, shooting you an apologetic glance You narrow your eyes at Brett before turning to Scott and Stiles.

“Y/N,” he sighs, “Please.”

“Fine,” you say with a tone so cold, you scared yourself, “You owe me.”



“What, Brett?” you respond, exasperated beyond caring.

“I’m sorry.”

What? You turn to the Talbot boy and raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow at him. “Excuse me?”

Brett shifted awkwardly, staring at his feet and rubbing the back of his neck. “I'm… sorry? For, you know, attacking you, and clawing you, and-and ripping your shirt, and um-” he motions to the blood, cuts, and rips that seem to cover your body all too often since you’ve met Scott McCall and Derek Hale. In the 3 years that you’ve known Brett Talbot, you’ve never seen him like this. Awkward, nervous even.

“Wait, wai-wai-wai-wai-wait,” you hold up a hand to stop Brett’s rambling. “Is Brett Talbot, apologizing to me? Wow, what a day! Do you mind if I can just record it?”

“Stop it!” You laugh at Brett’s disbelieving face. “I’m serious, I-I really am sorry.”

Your gaze flickers to the ground as your lips begin to curl into a smile and Brett can’t help as a grin spreads across his face. “You’re forgiven.” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“Really?” When you nod, a sigh of relief escapes Brett’s mouth. He steps towards you, toned abs showing through the claw marks that you had left in his shirt. Brett takes another step, and against your instincts, you don’t take a step back. Hesitantly, Brett raises his hand, and pauses, before reaching towards your face. He uses his middle and ring finger to brush your hair out of your face. Brett’s ears twitch at the sound out your heartbeat quickening. Ironically, you can hear his own heart racing.

Brett towers over you, tracing a line of blood across your cheek, the skin smooth underneath as you had healed hours ago. He let’s out a breathy laugh through his nose as he continues to stroke your cheek. Your eyes follow his hand, to his wrist, where a braided leather bracelet was tied, up his arm, to the pulled-up sleeve of his long sleeve shirt. Your eyes linger on his shoulder, the muscles bulging, even as he was relaxed, then to his neck, stopping for a moment on his jawline, then to his lips, which were quirked into a trifling smile, and finally to his eyes. His bright green eyes were soft, gazing at you with such tenderness you didn’t think was possible towards you from the Talbot boy.

Your hand lifted and covered Brett’s own on your cheek. Brett cocks his head to the side, and barely, just barely, leans down to close the distance between his lips and your own. Brett leans in a little more and you breathe in sharply as he gazes at your lips, his eyes flickering yellow for just a moment. Brett closes his eyes and breathes in deeply. “You- uh, you should probably go shower,” his hand falls from your face, dragging yours with him. Brett squeezes your hand, “Go, I can watch Bailey until you’re done.”

You nod and allow Brett’s hand to slip from your grasp. Brett can’t help but watch as you leave and begin to climb the stairs. You pause for a moment and for a second, Brett hopes that you might stay, but you turn away from him and make your way up to Scott’s room.


As you open a drawer to grab some of your clothes that are kept at Scott’s house, you grimace at the box of condoms on the shelf. Kira, you thought, before shuddering and digging out an old t-shirt of your brother’s and a pair of sweats, a bra, panties, and socks. You connect your phone to a speaker and place them both on the counter. You had already turned on the water to make sure that it was warm by the time you climbed in.

You sigh in relief as the warm water hits your back. Reaching for the body wash, you lather it over you hand and scrub your body, scrubbing roughly at the blood on your face, your arms, and your sides. You wince as the water turns pink from the blood of your now-healed injuries. You just stand there and watch as the pink water pales until it returns to the normal transparent color. Blindly, you reach for the shampoo, but instead knock into it. You watch it fall to the shower floor.

“Fuck,” you mutter, reaching down to grab the bottle from the tile. Your hands close around it and you bring it up to squeeze some into your hair. You massage your head slowly as the water washes the shampoo away. The conditioner came next, the cream softening your hair under the spray of water. You sigh as you sit down and allow the water to hit your back. You don’t realize how much time has passed as you just sit there and think. You didn’t know why you and Brett hated each other as much as you did. You shouldn’t. Lydia had told you many times that if you hadn’t hated each other as much as you say you did, you would be perfect for each other. Allison used to tell you the same, whenever you complained about the “asshat my parents make me hang out with.”

Allison. She didn’t deserve her death. None of your friends did. Not Erica, not Boyd, not Aiden, but Allison most of all didn’t deserve what happened to her. You can’t help but picture her face as the Oni stabbed her through the stomach. You picture Scott’s face. You picture Argent’s face. But most of all, you can hear your own deafening scream, mixing with Lydia’s until you can’t differentiate between them. A sob escapes your lips as you return to your body. And you remember, Allison has been dead for nigh over a year now. Tears fall from your eyes and mix with the water dripping down your face as memories of Allison run through your head.

The sobs that wracked your body ceased after a little while and eventually you stood, allowing the water to cascade over your whole body. Slowly your brain began to fall into a sort of lull, and nothing went through your head. You just stood there, staring at the tile in front of you. And then you felt a touch to the middle of your back.


“Y/N,” he murmurs softly, dragging his fingertips up your back to your bare shoulder. You were numb at this point, you couldn’t feel anything. And Brett knew this; it would happen to his sister sometimes after their parents died. You had lost too many people, and he knew exactly how to coax you out of your stupor. “Y/N,” he whispers into your ear again. “It’s alright, Y/N, you’re alright. I promise.” His breath hits the back of your neck as his tongue traces the shell of your ear. Your eyes slowly begin to focus at the action, finally becoming conscious of the man standing behind you.

“Brett?” you say quietly, “Where’s Bailey?” “Scott called, it’s over.” Brett’s answer was short and curt.

“What are you doing?” you breath as the werewolf wraps his arms around your waist and pulls your back to his chest. “Brett, what-what are you do-” You break off with gasp as Brett’s lips land on your neck.

“I want to show you how sorry I am,” he hums into your skin. His kisses don’t stop as you tilt your head to the side. “I’m sorry.” Brett’s lips brush over your pulse point and you gasp, letting your head fall against the torso of the giant mix between man and wolf standing behind you. “I’m sorry.”

“Brett, you-you’re forgiven,” you stutter as he continues to mouth at the flesh covering your pulse, “I-I said you’re forgiven.” Brett’s dulled fangs graze your skin and you whimper, chest heaving as you struggled to breathe. “Brett. Brett.”

“Yes, darling?”

Your breath hitches at the pet name that fell from his lips. When you don’t answer, Brett lowers his head back to your neck. A moan of his name slips unwillingly from your mouth.

“I just want to make it up to you, darling,” Brett rasps in your ear, “Show you exactly how sorry I am.” A shiver runs down your skin at his words, and you tilt your head even further, if possible. One of his hands snakes down your arm to intertwine your fingers with his. His other hand - oh, his other hand - stays locked around your waist, massaging your hips with the pad of his thumb, rubbing gentle, soothing circles into your skin. “Just relax, darling.”

And you do. Your muscles relax and your head lolls back into Brett’s chest. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, placing kiss after kiss into your neck. “It’s alright darling, you’re alright,” Brett murmurs, slowly turning you around to face him. One of his hands is still around your waist, while the other rises up slowly to brush your dripping hair out of your face.

And finally - finally - Brett leans in and kisses you. It feels as if it’s in slow motion. He glances at your lips before looking back to your eyes, searching for permission. Your expression says it all. You want this. Him. But just to be clear, you give a slight nod of your head. That’s all Brett needs before attaching your lips together.

His lips are soft and smooth. Gentle. He kisses you as if you’ll break. His thumb caresses your cheek as you respond to his touch. Your own arms come up to wrap around his neck. He’s tall, so much so that you have to pull him down by the neck in order to run your fingers through his hair. Brett moans softly when you tug at his hair. The werewolf pulls you closer to him, if possible, and deepens the kisses, swiping his tongue across your bottom lip, then taking your top lip between his teeth.

“Brett,” comes the soft whimper from your mouth into his own. He hums in response, not once breaking apart from you. Brett gently backs you up into the shower wall, grip still tight around you. You whimper his name again when Brett separates your lips. His tall frame stares down at you with such tenderness and adoration that you can feel the walls you’ve built around your heart begin crumbling. “Brett,” you breathe once more.”

The Talbot boy’s eyes flash yellow at the way to say his name and he’s having a hard time keeping his wolf in check. “I-” he begins, but cuts himself off and starts over, “Are you sure, Y/N? Are you sure you want this? If I start, Y/N, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop. Tell me you want this, Y/N. please, tell me.”

“Brett.” You stand up on the tips of your toes, and you still weren’t tall enough. He bends down slightly to hear your answer. “I want this, Brett,” you breathe against his pink, swollen lips, “I want you.” Brett moans at your words, and drags his fingertips up your sides. Your breath hitches at the action, anticipation for what was to come becoming the only thought in your head.

“Brett, please.”

He doesn’t answer you, only continues his gentle exploration of your body, gentle, absentminded touches memorizing every inch like the lines to his old favorite song. His hands are gentle with you, as if you’re so fragile that you’ll shatter beneath him if he presses too hard.


Your plea of his name brings him out of his daze. He was so mesmerized by you, it was like he couldn’t live without you. Underneath all the hate filled glares, the snide comments, the arguing; beneath all of that, Brett couldn’t help but be totally, hopelessly, head-over-heels in love with you. Brett finally kisses you again, before sliding his hands back down your waist to cup your thighs. Without faltering in the kiss, he lifts you up and wraps your legs around his waist. He so tall that you squeal for a moment, breaking your lips from his.

“I’m not used to being this far off the ground,” you mumble, blushing embarrassedly. Brett’s lips part before letting out an unattractive snort. Soon he’s full on laughing. “Bretttt,” you whine, it’s not funny.”

“I-It’s just,” he said between chuckles, “you’re so small. It’s so cute.” Brett kisses you again, peppering kisses all over your face, jaw, cheeks, neck, and lips. “God, you’re beautiful,” Brett gushes, “So beautiful.”

You whimper softly at his words and push your hips against his. “Brett, hurry up, God damn it.” Brett complies, finally. He keeps his eyes locked with yours as he guides his length to your entrance.

“I love you,” he breathes as he ever so slowly slips into you. His confession shocks you and you gape at him, before your eyes roll back into your head. He keeps pushing into you and soon he filled you to the hilt.

“Say it!” you gasp out, needing to his hear his confession once more.

I love you,” he repeats, “I love you. All of you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything that I’ve ever done to you. I’m so sorry. I love you.”

“Brett!” you gasp as he pulls back and slams his hips back into yours. “Brett! I love you too! Oh! My! Go-!” Brett presses his lips to yours fervently, whispering sweet nothings against your mouth.

“I love you,” he whispers again, and it wouldn’t be the last time he said it. Brett drops his head to the crook of your neck, a “you’re so beautiful” falling from his lips and causing you to flush against his body.

The more Brett collides his hips with yours, the harder it becomes for you to control yourself. You grip his shoulder with one hand, while the other tangles into and tugs at his damp hair. The water from the shower head is hitting his back, spraying off of his muscled body and protecting you from the drizzle. You just about fall apart when Brett thrusts up into you at a new angle, hitting a spot inside you you didn’t even know existed.

“Brett!” you nearly scream his name as he repeats his action. Brett continues to place kisses along your neck and jaw, whispering for you to come for him.

“You can do it,” Brett murmurs into your ear, “You can do it darling, come for me. Come all over me. I love you. Come for me.”

And you do. You cry out Brett’s name multiple times as your orgasm hits you, writhing in his strong arms that are still wrapped around your body. Brett groans as you clench around him, and that alone is enough to send him over the edge. Brett’s eyes turn yellow and his fangs protrude from his gums as he sends thick streams of cum into your body. As the two of you come down from your high, he presses his forehead to yours. He laughs breathily against your lips and kisses you gently.

“I love you,” he says once more, “I mean it. I really do. I love you.”

A gentle smile spreads across your face. “I love you too, Brett.

But how are we going to tell Scott we had sex in his shower?”

Imagine desperately trying to make Thorin smile

“What is that?” Thorin asked, eyeing your extended hand before his face. “A friendship bracelet.” You answered with a bright smile. “I made one for each member of the company. Even Dwalin accepted to wear it.” “Is it something common in your culture?” His eyes now shifted on yours, making your heart beat faster and your cheeks flush. “Yes… When you care about your friends you can make bracelets to seal the new friendship bond.” You said, feeling quite embarrassed. “You did it yourself?” One of Thorin’s eyebrows raised in amazement. “Yes I did.” You answered sheepishly. Thorin looked at you for several seconds then extended his arms in the air. “I agree to wear it.” You had contain your squeal of joy as you quickly kneeled before the dwarf and gently took his wrist in your hands. You wrapped the bracelet around Thorin’s wrist, marveling at his muscles and his thick bones, then smiled up at him. “Thank you.” Thorin breathed out. You smiled and giggles gleefully. Thorin smiled back. ~*~ “Where are we going?” Thorin grumbled as you were tugging on his hand to make him move faster. “You’ll see.” You answered teasingly. Thorin was grumpier because you had to stop in Rivendell. He hated the elves so it was hard to be surrounded by so many of them without snapping. “I don’t think…” Thorin started but you quickly stopped his complain as you spoke up. “We’re here!” You turned around and let go of his hand. “Tadaa!” You said as you pointed to a huge harp and a beautiful piano in the corner of the room. “Oh!” Was all Thorin could say as his eyes widen. “Balin told me you loved to play the harp and I love piano so I thought we could play together?” You weren’t sure if Thorin would accept your offer. It was something really personal and Balin told you it would recall him some memories of Erebor and his young years. You smiled softly at the dwarf king and he smiled back. Your heart drumming in your chest. “I would love to.” His voice was deep and filled with an unknown emotion. ~*~ “Tell me more about Erebor.” You asked as you walked back toward the company, your hands holding Thorin’s arm. “What do you want to know?” He asked, looking at you with a gentle smile. “Everything!” You answered excitedly, making Thorin laugh. “Eager are we?” He teased with a smirk. You giggled but nodded your head anyway. “Well… I guess my memories of Erebor are mainly of my family or of my duties and endless classes with Balin.” The king answered, making you giggle even more. “Tell me about your family.” You said as you leaned again him, your head resting on his broad shoulder. Thorin smiled down on you then kissed the top of your head. You blushed furiously. “As you wish, Ghivashel.” He breathed out then beamed at you. That smile was so beautiful that your heart stopped. After telling you about his family for hours, how much he loved his father, his little sister and little brother. After telling you about the death of his mother when he was still a young lad, after telling you about the dragon sickness that took hold of his grandfather and the disappearance of his father. Thorin and yourself were sitting on the soft grass of Rivendell’s gardens. “I’m sorry for your father and your brother, Thorin.” You said as you rubbed your thumb over the rough skin of his hand. “Don’t be… it’s not your fault.” Thorin answered. “You are here and that’s all that matters.” You blushed and Thorin smiled at you. “You should smile more. It suits you.” You admitted, making Thorin chuckle. “Stay by my side, Amrâlimê. Be my Queen and I will smile for you, everyday of my life. I promise.”

Originally posted by captain-flint

home - us!sans x reader

So for fanfic Friday, how about us sans with an s/o in a band who just came back home from tour

pairing: sans x reader

summary: touring the world is fun, but when you see the small, blue scarf tied around your wrist…you finally feel like you’ve seen enough. it’s time to go home.

notes: oh my gosh i love writing the blueberry. he is. so pure. i love him.here u go sweet anon i give you fluffs.

You originally planned to tour throughout the winter and late into spring. 6 months of nonstop travel, to Europe and Asia, When you found out, you were extremely excited. You could take Sans with you, and show him everything he hasn’t seen with his own eyes yet! The thought of the childlike skeleton, of his joy as he’d see the world…You wanted to give him so much more, and this will do for now.

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psycho 09 / taehyung

note: this is the shittiest chapter I have ever written so i’m sorry that it is super short and all that…i have been really busy with everything and i’m thinking of taking a break a bit from writing, but still enjoy this chapter 

warning and a note: this story has some sexual harassment in it so if you are uncomfortable with reading this kind of story please stop right here, i understand this might be hurtful to some people but this is just my crazy imagination and I’m sorry if you have ever experienced anything like this and I also wish this doesn’t happen to anyone ever, i know that taehyung isn’t like this in real life this is just a story + slight mature language


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The Joker x Reader - “Broken”

After you got shot in the head you were in a coma for a while. When you woke up you were quite broken and The Joker doesn’t like broken things. Getting rid of you seems like the perfect solution.

The Joker immediately turned when he heard the gunshot. You felt the sharp pain for a split second before you blacked out. J opened his mouth in disbelief, wanting to say something but for once he was speechless. He just stood there, stunned, watching Frost as he killed the security guard being heroic enough to attempt a small rebellion on his own.

“WHAT…THE FUCK??!!” The Joker’s voice finally echoed in the building while stomping towards you. Some of the hostages on the floor whimpered in fear, knowing that it won’t end well after what just happened.

“I thought you were watching everybody!” he pointed at his henchmen, mad as hell, kneeling so that he can turn you around. J saw the nasty bleeding head wound and he lost it:

“Kill everybody!! NOW!!!!” He lifted you and your arms went limp, hanging down on the sides of your body. “God dammit! Frost, let’s go, you drive!!” Blood started soaking his purple coat and he squeezed you closer to him, trying to wake you up.

“Hey, Princess, open your eyes! Open your eyes!“ No answer came and he took a deep breath, grinding his teeth, not even discerning the screams coming from the slaughter happening behind him.

He got in the back of the van with you and realized he wasn’t even wearing a shirt that night.

“Frost, give me your jacket!” he impatiently demanded and wrapped it around your head as soon as he got it. Jonny started driving and the Joker kept on wiping the blood off your face with his bare hands, not realizing he got all over his cheeks and hair too. “Baby doll, can you hear me? Don’t make Daddy mad; open your eyes, hm?”  he kept on trying to reason with you, nervously biting his lips.

“Where to, Boss?” Frost shouted, driving so fast he was afraid he will get unwanted attention, the last thing that was needed that night.

“Our doctor, Frosty, where else???!! “ The Joker snapped back at him, irritated about the question. “I don’t care who else we need to get, I want her fixed!… I don’t like…b-broken things…” he muttered the last words to himself, stammering with anxiety, still trying to clean you up.

*** You were in surgery for 10 hours. It was a clean wound, the bullet wasn’t inside: it pierced the left side of your head, above your ear, slightly under the skin surface which was very lucky but still created quite a lot of damage and brain hemorrhage. The best doctors that Gotham’s underworld uses were brought in to help you. J didn’t care about the money they asked or the supplies needed. What was he going to do with all his possessions if his Queen was dead?  It wouldn’t matter, it would be no fun.

The Joker was told there was no way to know when you will wake up or if there will be any nerve damage following your recovery. They didn’t have the courage to tell him you might never wake up. Afterwards, you were taken to the penthouse and one of the spare bedrooms was transformed into your own medical ward. The doctors took turns in coming and checking up on you, changing your bandages, updating your IV medications and the blood tests were coming back pretty good, except for the fact that you wouldn’t wake up.

Since J couldn’t sleep without you, he moved the bed in the master bedroom to your room, this way he could at least doze off for a few hours. All those beeping noises from those machines you were hooked at annoyed him to death but he learned to ignore them after a few days.

The Joker talked to you all the time, sometimes falling asleep waiting for an answer that never came. Most of the times he was answering for you.

* “Hey, Y/N, do you remember when you told me you were pregnant and I panicked, almost pushed you off the balcony? Lucky you told me you were joking before I did it, huh? “ and he started laughing maniacally, ending it with a deep growl, pleased at the memory. “Good times, Doll…”

* “Oh my God, I’m so bored!” He would roll his blue eyes in your face.” Would you wake up, Pumpkin? Let’s have some fun, I’ll take you for a ride. Wanna blow up something? Hmmm? Deal?” J cupped your face, caressing it with his thumbs until he got fed up with that too. “Jeez, Doll, why are you doing this to me?” he would finally rest his head on your tummy, pouting, not liking the fact that you were still like that after 3 weeks.

* “Princess, do you remember when I got angry and I shot you in the leg and you stabbed me? You were soooo pissed,” he snickered, kissing your hand. “We almost killed each other that day.” His crazy laughter filled the room again. “Ahhhh, good times, Doll…” he sighed, delighted at that treasured remembrance.

* J thought you need more tattoos, it was about time he gave you another one. He tattooed “Wake Up” all around your right hand wrist, like a bracelet, and a lot of “I love J” and “Sleepy Head” going up your arm just like bracelet charms . “You like it, Pumpkin?” he brought it closer to your face and when you didn’t react he just replied, proud of himself: “I think I did really good.”

* He pushed the girl he brought from the club inside and she was so scared she was shaking like a leaf.

“ Y/N, if you don’t wake up in 5 seconds, I’m getting a new girlfriend!” J shove her right on your bed. “ 5,4,3,2… 2 and a half…1…one and a half…Doll, come on!!!… Zero!”  Nothing. “Get the hell out of here!” he pushed the girl and she run out of the room so fast she almost fell when she opened the door. “Shit, that didn’t work,” he passed his fingers through his green hair, sulking. Another week went by.

* The Joker brought in a target matt and hanged it on the wall in front of you. He liked to place his gun in your hand, holding it with his, aim and shoot at the target. “Perfect, Y/N, this way you don’t lose practice. You’re such a good girl,” he would kiss your knuckles, smiling and then frowning when he realized you didn’t even know he was there.

* First time you opened your eyes was after 4 more weeks. It was late at night and J was on his laptop,still awake, looking at all the naughty pics you always sent him. He noticed the movement and jumped out of bed, not really believing you’re awake.

“Jesus, Princess, it was about time! I’m sooo horny,” he whispered in your ear and grinned when he noticed your chest going up and down in a silent, faint laughter.

“…My… poor… baby…” you barely uttered, struggling to reach his pale face and he purred, relieved, firmly holding your shaky fingers on his cheek since you couldn’t do it on your own. “…What…happened?…”


At first, you had a really hard time using your left side of the body. You had bad days and good days. On your bad days you used one of J’s canes to walk around. He used to hide it and watch you struggle, scoffing:

“You don’t need a cane, Doll. Just walk, you’re fine!”

You held on to the wall, fighting really hard to keep your balance.

“I do need it, give it back!”

“Nope,” he simply stated, observing you from the couch until you got to your old room where he still kept the target matt so you can practice shooting again. It almost brought you to tears when you kept on missing; such an embarrassment for a skilled assassin. But it was so hard to control your left hand that kept on trembling. The Joker always sneaked to watch you since you kept the door opened and it made him uneasy to see you were so distressed. And it made him even tenser when he noticed he still liked his broken Doll.

First time you were able to have sex again after your recovery was… challenging. (And to be honest, many more times afterwards.)

He started complaining after 5 minutes :

“Christ, Y/N, your hand is twitching around my neck, it’s freaking me out! Stop it!” and he kissed you again, annoyed.

“Well, baby, I can’t control it, you know that! Especially when I get…excited,” you panted, adjusting your head on the pillow.

“Why are you excited?” J snickered. “Hey, keep your legs around my waist, you know I like it,” he moaned in your ear, kissing his way down your neck.

“I can’t, my left leg keeps on sliding down, I can’t even feel it anymore. I’m sorry, baby,” you arched your back, giggling, amused on how worked up he was about it.

“Can you get on your knees, Doll?”

“I doubt it,” you fakely sobbed, wanting him to shut up and make love to you.

“Can you get on top of me?”

A snarl coming from you gave him the answer.

“Can we do it against the wall?”

You slapped his side, aggravated.

“Jeez, woman, what can you do?!” You covered his mouth, impatient.

“I’m just gonna lay here, ok? That’s all I can offer for now. I’m…helpless so you can totally take advantage of me,” you winked, uncovering his lips so you can kiss him.

“Hmm, I never took advantage of a …ummm…incapacitated person before,” The Joker smirked, suddenly liking the idea.

“Good, because I thought you like challenges,” you laughed, content he is finally satisfied.

“Ohhh, Daddy never backs out from a challenge, Pumpkin,” he gave you that devilish look and pulled your hair while pinning your hands above your head. “This way you don’t freak me out with your twitchy hand.”

“Jerk…” you moaned, lifting your head so you can kiss his Jester tattoo.

“You wait until you see what Daddy has in store for you and then we’ll talk about it…yes?” he closed his eyes, enjoying feeling you again. It made him so ecstatic.


After 3 more months you are better, but not fully recovered.

He tosses his gun on the floor and urges you to get it.

“Come on, Princess, be sexy for me. Bend over and grab that gun! I’ll pay you!” and he pushes the pile of hundred dollars from his desk on the floor.
“Are you serious?” you lift your gaze from your phone, not knowing if he meant it or not. You’ve been fighting a lot recently and his behavior towards you changed.

“Yes, do it,” he hums, putting the map aside and rolling away on his chair so he can see you better.

“ ‘Kaaayyyy,” you do as asked, and half way through your left leg gives out and you land on your knees.

“Wow, that’s pathetic!” he hisses, and you feel your face burning. “Seriously, I don’t even know why I keep you around: you’re crippled, you can’t kill for me, you’re not great in bed anymore and I’m sick of waiting for you to recover. As you are fully aware, I don’t like broken things, hence it’s time for you to go,” J barks at you and you just watch him, stunned.

“W-what are you talking about?! I’m so much better and I am getting better. I AM NOT crippled!” you almost yell, struggling to get on your feet, not understanding what’s going on.

“You’re useless, that’s what you are!” The Joker raises his voice, having a hard time controlling his temper. “I want you out of here!”

“Are you serious?!” you ask, furrowing your eyebrows, thinking about his cold behavior lately. That’s why, he’s just sick of you.   “After…all these years?”

He sarcastically grunts, crossing his arms on his chest:

“Is that supposed to mean anything to me?! OUT! Don’t make me repeat myself; you can stay tonight so you can sort out the things you want to take.”

“I…I don’t need anything, I have my own stuff,” you reply, backing out slowly, trying to swallow the lump in your throat and maintain your equilibrium.

“God, you’re soooo pitiful, still can’t control your body. How am I even supposed to be with someone like you?! The King of Gotham needs perfection, not trash.”

You gasp, feeling your heart beating faster and faster.

“I am the Queen of Gotham, with or without you, not trash!”  

“Used to be Queen, Doll, now look at you: just another lost cause. Don’t test my patience, get out of here.” He points out towards the elevator.  “ Awwww, are those tears? You never cry. I told you you’re pathetic and broken, this proves what I just said.”

You shake your head, turning around and limping towards the elevator, tripping on the carpet because your bad leg is misbehaving. You hear him laugh:
“Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha! So useless!”

You swallow your tears all the way down when your cell rings. You see it’s your informant and you answer right away:

“When Mister J is going to his “Savage” club tonight, it will be an ambush: Sully’s men; they’ll try to kill him. Pass the word.”

“Thank you, Axel,” you mumble, turning off your phone and placing back in your pocket.

I am not telling him anything, the jerk deserves anything coming his way! You decide as you reach the basement’s garage and the elevator’s door open. Let them kill him.


First thing you do when you get to your apartment is wash away the neon green highlights from your bright red hair. It makes you feel better until the little thoughts pop in your mind: “Are you going to let them kill him?”, “Yes, I don’t care.” “But…it’s J.” “I really don’t care; his men can protect him if they can.” “But…it’s J.”

“Ughhhh,” you cover your face with the small pillow, attempting to erase any feelings you might have from your conscience. “But…it’s J…Come on, it’s J…” the idea keeps on repeating and echoing in your mind until you get up from the loveseat, exasperated.

“Shit, fine, I’m going, just shut the hell up!” you admonish yourself, looking in the mirror. “The asshole doesn’t deserve me…” you conclude, getting the duffle bag with your rifle out of the closet.


You go and place yourself on the top of the tallest building, about half a mile away from “Savage”. You watch everything through the scope, but so far nothing out of place. Your left hand is shaky again and you put so much effort into controlling it you’re starting to sweat. “Not now, please” you reason with your weak side of the body, cracking your neck. Another two hours pass by and you finally see The Joker’s Lamborghini approaching followed by 3 SUV’s.

You wipe your forehead and concentrate more, looking around carefully as he parks and gets out of the car. Suddenly, you see the four men in black suits, wearing running shoes and you know it’s them: Sully’s men trademark attire. They approach from different angles and you wait until they are fairly close to the Joker and his henchmen. They noticed the assassins too and surrounded J, protecting him. He takes out his gun, waiting, and he watches as suddenly one by one they fall to the ground, their brains splattered on the concrete.

He lifts his eyes, searching the buildings around as his goons get him to his car so he can safely leave. Three more assassins start running towards his Lamborghini and you shot again, the last one collapsing right in front of the Joker’s car. He looks up, but he sure doesn’t have the right building you’re on top of. He knows it’s you and bites on his cheek, growling, taking off with his men before the cops show up.

You wipe your forehead, exhausted, resting your head on the trigger:

“I’m not pathetic and broken.”     Did you want to prove that to him or yourself? Probably both.


J drove straight back to the penthouse, laying low for the rest of the night. He gets in bed, trying to sleep and can’t because you’re not there. He looks at your empty side of the bed and moves over, burring his face in your pillow-it smells like you. Another hour and he’s still awake, tossing and turning.

“I don’t like broken things,” he whispers, opening his eyes just to see your items scattered all over the bedroom since you didn’t take anything with you. It really makes uncomfortable realizing he feels the exact opposite of not liking you. Or so he believes.

“I really don’t like broken things,” he gets mad, exasperated, forcing himself not to think of anything.


The sound of your cane hitting the wood floor startles you and you wake up, leaning over so you can reach and turn on the lamp. You see The Joker kicking it again, and again.

“Stupid piece of crap!” he shouts, his green hair all over his face.

“What are you doing here?!” you rub your eyes, not glad to see him at all. “Get out!”

He just comes over and yanks at your hand:

“Let’s go, Doll, you’re coming back, I can’t sleep without you.”

“Screw you!” you pull back, upset he broke into your apartment and has the nerve to act like nothing happened.

“Yes, you can do that too, you naughty girl, I know you can’t wait,” he tries to yank you away again.

The evil glare you give him makes him stop and he regains his posture, sighing:

“You’re coming back; you know I can’t sleep without you.”

“I don’t care!!!!” you cover your body with the blanket like it’s going to help any. He sees your watery eyes and decides to drop it.

“Fine, then I’ll sleep here.” He goes around the bed and gets under the blanket, scooting over so he can be close to you. “Now shut up, I have to sleep, I’m tired as hell!” He places his head on your pillow, waiting for you to get down and join him. You watch him with indignation, sniffling, and kick him:

“Get out of my apartment!”

The Joker ignores your behavior and decides to talk with his eyes closed:

“I don’t like broken things…”
“I’m not a broken thing you presumptuous …” you start your rant, getting ready to kick him again when he interrupts:

“…but you’re my favorite thing. Good, I thought that would shut you up,” he grins, forcefully pulling you in his arms as you struggle to escape. “Ahhhhh, I like it when you’re feisty. Queens are feisty…” he nuzzles in your hair for a few seconds then pecs your lips and holds you tighter. “Don’t think I didn’t notice your green highlights are gone. They’ll be back first thing in the morning, got it?”

“You can’t tell me what to do!” you try to make a comeback but he cuts you short again:

“The hell I can’t! Now shut up, I’m so worn out,” he gets your left leg around his waist and holds it, this way you’re glued to him. “There, I know you can’t hold it yourself.”

When you don’t answer he opens one eye and sees you stare at him with that hurt expression on your face that makes him uneasy.

“Stop it, Pumpkin, I really need to rest,” J kisses your forehead and you whimper, upset:

“You’re such a jerk.”

“Pffft,” he scoffs, “is that supposed to be news to me? Now zip it and I mean it,” he scolds you, annoyed.

“Jerk…” you faintly mumble before closing your eyes.

He just smiles, knowing he will finally be able to doze off.