he likes it so much he even proved it by doing it horizontally

Special Instructions (3/?)

Summary: Drunk Emma really likes pizza. She also really happens to like the cute delivery guy who seems content to carry out all of her wishes via the “Special Instructions” box on the website. (AO3)
Rating: M
Word Count: ~3800 (why do they keep getting longer?)
Chapters: One Two

hope u like crazy hot mess emma 😝 🍺🍻🍷🍸🍹🍾🍕 😵

remember a few months ago when i asked everyone to tell me stories of stupid/funny shit y’all did when drunk? thanks for the inspiration ;))

reader requested tags: @lenfaz @ilovemesomekillianjones @like-waves-on-the-beach 


Special instructions: pls send cute delivry guy, i missss himm   

One of the benefits of having a job with odd hours was that Emma could get completely trashed on a Tuesday evening and not give a single fuck as to how it would affect her the next morning. She’d started her own private party several hours earlier when all of her friends had turned her down for one reason or another. (Because they had jobs, mostly. Fucking party pooping productive members of society.)

She was giggling so hard she snorted when she clicked ‘order’ on the website, so beyond caring about anything that she felt no shyness or shame whatsoever.

Drunk did not even begin to cover it. Drunk was several homemade cocktails earlier. She was mixing a bunch of things she really shouldn’t be mixing. She couldn’t remember everything she ingested, but she did recall the two straight shots of tequila that she started off with (and what a way to start), as well as the few gulps of red wine that she took straight from the bottle because she was a respectable, refined adult. She vaguely recalled an almost-daiquiri of questionable flavor, as well as one particularly horrible concoction of Red Bull, triple sec, vodka, gin, and Gatorade because apparently she was trying to liquefy her internal organs.

(It didn’t help that she’d pulled out the entire contents of her alcohol cabinet and placed everything on her kitchen counter, giving her a wide selection of self-destructive options.)

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categorize me; i defy every label


The second you touched down on the foreign soil, you were on guard. That Shadow thing had decided to drop you on the coast of a deserted beach, but why? You spun around, hugging your arms to your shivering body. You weren’t scared in the slightest. Confused, angry but not scared. Most of all you were pissed that the Shadow abducted you from your home and left you on this island to fend for yourself… not that home was much better though.

“And who might you be? This isn’t a place for a girl like you.” A voice sniggered.

You whipped around, met by green eyes and a smile. The smile wasn’t friendly though, it reminded you of a wolf’s snarl as it circled its prey; arrogant and dominant.

“Who am I? Who are you?” You looked around exasperatedly. “And where the hell am I?”

“Tone the attitude down, love. S'not very ladylike.”

Your eyebrows shot up in disbelief, an insulted look crossing your features instantaneously. How did a stranger have the decency to tell you that you weren’t acting ladylike when you had just been stolen from your home and suddenly harassed by some random boy?

You narrowed your eyes, pushing past the boy. “If you won’t tell me where I am then I’m going to figure it out myself.”

You heard him laugh behind you. “You won’t get far without my help. This is my island and you won’t find anything unless I want you to.”

“Are you ready to bow down to submission yet?”

You snorted. “Bow down to submission? Do I look like a dog.”

The boy laid stretched out in a tree branch, one leg propped up and the other dangling from the branch. He watched you with an irritating smile, one you would like to smack off his face.

“I told you,” He tsked. “You won’t find anything —.”

“—Unless you want me to, yeah yeah. You’ve said that a few times now.”

Sitting down on a rock that had managed to rip its way through the Earth, you buried your face in your lap and wrapped your arms around your legs. You felt a body sit beside yours and with one peak you figured it was him.

“I know you’re upset my pet, but I can make it all better if you let me.” His accented voice was like a siren’s song, lovely, warm and inviting but as soon as you let yourself become taken by it, your life would be no more. You sighed.

“Can you at least tell me where I am.” You lifted your head to meet his playful gaze.

“I’ll give you a hint. You’re in the land where Lost Children go to be loved again.”

Your eyes squinted. Lost Boys? Lost Children? “Neverland…? That makes you Peter Pan?”

The boy smirked, one side of his mouth lifting higher than the other and indenting a dimple in his cheek. “Precisely.”

You tucked a piece of loose hair behind your ear before he stood up and held his hand out in front of you.

“Let’s go back to camp, it’s going to rain soon.” You purse your mouth and stood next to him, letting his open hand curl into an awkward first between you.

“I’ll just go my own way. When you say the word camp it reminds me of a summer camp where you sit around the fire and roast marshmallows. Not that that doesn’t sound wonderfully fun,” You say with an exaggerated roll of your eyes. “But I’m not here to roast marshmallows and sing camp songs.”

Pan tensed his jaw, feeling his teeth grind against each other. With one usual snap of his fingers, Pan always got what he asked for but he oddly liked the defiance act you were putting on. He remembers how Wendy eventually became clay in his hands and she would bend over backwards at anything he said but… not you. Pan could only imagine how strong his ego will feel once he got you the buckle.

“My camp is no where near child’s play but if you really want to live by your own rules, then you have to prove your worthiness to me.”

“I don’t have to prove anything just because you lack to see it. S'not my problem.”

With lightning reflexes he had your jawbone gripped between his thumb and forefinger, the skin becoming hot and subtly numb under his aggressive touch. Anger immediately flood your senses and you tightly gripped his wrist as a warning.

“Prove to me that you can survive on my island without my help then. Show me,” He whispered, hissing the letters.

“…that you can and maybe I would look up to your so called worthiness. Until then you’re nothing but a literal lost girl to me.”

You took his wrist and flung his hand off of your face. “It’s not very gentlemen-like to man handle a woman, Peter Pan.”

The smirk reappeared onto his face and he paced himself a few steps away from you.

“Peter Pan never fails. Gain my respect by proving yourself.”

“You lost my respect by referring to yourself in third person.”

With that, you turned around and started your way blindly through the forest. You frankly didn’t care if you left Pan standing there. The fact that you were dumped on this island without your say makes it your island as much as it was his.

It had been a few days since you had seen that annoying boy and honestly, you weren’t doing that bad. You were able to find food and despite what Pan had said at the time, it had yet to rain. Neverland was beautiful, with fluorescent wild life and creatures you had only ever imagined in dreams. You were still asleep and the sun had yet to rise over the tops of the pines. The colors of the sky above you bled through each other like a painting, creating a dreamy glow throughout the air.

You groaned and rubbed your eyes, rubbing the sleep away from inside of them. The chilly air pinched at your cheeks and created goosebumps down your body, making you sigh. The sigh was stolen by a gasp as an arrow shot past you, missing the top of your shoulder by a hair’s length.

Your eyes whipped towards where it had came from, only to be met by nothing. You leaned backwards and retrieved the arrow, holding it in front of you as a weapon. Pan had never mentioned anything actually dangerous on Neverland, so what the hell was attacking you?

Another one slung past you but this time, missing you completely. You snorted and stood to pick it up. “Can whoever is shooting at me stop? Nice shots by the way.”

You didn’t miss the pain of the third one, flying swiftly and piercing your shin. Though it didn’t make it too far in, your knees buckled and you toppled down, blinking through the tears as you tried to rip the flimsy arrow out. Blood ran down the expanse of your ankle.

“Now this is a site. I didn’t even shoot that hard.”

You knew that voice, you hadn’t heard it in days. Pan. You gritted your teeth as he emerged from the bushes, dropping his bow to the dusty ground.

“Why would you shoot me?” You shrieked, hands shaking. Before Neverland you had never experienced pain like this, the worse being a scratched knee or a sprained wrist.

“I’m trying to get you to prove yourself. I’m tired of you moping around my island. It’s getting quite boring.”

With a shot of adrenaline, you sprang up and pushed Pan into the body of a tree, holding the wooden arrows horizontally against his neck. Pan only smirked in response, even daring to let his hands rest daintily on your waist before you elbowed them away.

“Do you always go around shooting new kids on your island, Pan? Do you think this is funny or something?” You pressed, tightening the arrows against his neck. The wound on your leg groaned as you stood on it but you couldn’t back down now.

“I didn’t even shoot you that hard, silly girl. And if you’re trying to scare me, all you’re doing is amusing me right now.”

“And you’re making me incredibly furious. I am this close to strangling you, I swear.”

“I don’t think you would.” He taunted, raising an eyebrow. 

You bit the inside of your cheek and glared at him, eventually releasing your hold and throwing the arrows onto the ground. No, you wouldn’t hurt this boy  despite him hurting you. You left Pan where he was and went to cut the flimsy material of your hand made tent off, wrapping it around your shin as a makeshift band aid.

“What?” Pan asked. “No slapping, no screaming, no girly fits that I won?”

“No. Unlike you, I wasn’t raised in a jungle where we get back at people by using more violence. Violence isn’t the answer.”

“I see.” Pan nodded, taking slow steps towards you. He kneeled next to you and gently moved your hands away from where they were tying the cloth together. You went to bark at him to move his hands away but his stare stopped you.

“At least let me heal it up. It’s the least I could do, you did prove your worthiness after all.”

You allowed him to use whatever Neverland magic he had within and heal up the bleeding arrow wound. Within seconds it was gone, no trace of pain or blood left behind after the stroke of his hand.

“Better now?“ Pan asked with a gentle voice. He looked almost… kind? Genuine? Concerned?

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Before he could stand back up you threw your balled up fist square into his jaw, making him stumble back for only a millisecond. Shock registered on his face and his hand flew up to where you had punched him.

“That’s for shooting a goddamn arrow at me. I don’t need to prove my worthiness to anyone.”

Though punching him probably hurt your knuckles worse than it hurt his jaw, you stood up and held your hand out.

“What?” You mocked, using his exact tone of voice from earlier. “No girly fits that I won?”

Pan laughed, a genuine boyish laugh and accepted your hand as you helped pull him upwards. You ran your hands down your dusty clothes and sighed.

“Let’s go to your camp. I haven’t eaten a real meal in hours, I’m starving.”

Since then, Pan had never decided to cross you again.

Defiance - Chapter 1

Chapter 1-

Originally posted by ksenoglosja

I never wanted to be apart of his circle, I never thought I would end up in this place with these people, but here I am.
Working with The Joker.

He wanted to rob a large bank and he had all the details planned out except he needed someone on the inside.
He needed me.

I knew one of his guards, Aaron, and he had told me that The Joker was looking for someone to help out but he would never ask for help and I knew that’s why Aaron came to me.
I didn’t go running to him though, I knew that would make me look weak. Instead I taunted him a bit, I showed up at his club frequently and danced for him on many occasions.
I worked here part time as a bartender in a tight corset, small shorts and heels but on my off nights I would make it a point to get anywhere near his line of eyesight.
I waited and waited until this night that I had my hands holding the couch behind him and hips grinding down in his.

“I know what you need.” I whispered in his ear as I rolled my hips harder.

“Mmm, yes you do doll.” He groaned in reply, his hands snaking up my body.

“No, I know what you need to finish the job.” I leaned back so I could look at him but I let my hands run down his chest.

He grabbed my hands and gave me a look that ordered me to stop, “Is that so? Well, what are you waiting for?” His grin starts to appear, “Tell me what I need to finish my own work.”

“Me.” I don’t hesitate in the answer, “I work there, you need me to cut the access to the silent alarm just before you get there and you need me to open up the safe in the back quickly and effortlessly.” I pull my hands from his grip and bite my bottom lip with a hint of a smile.

His smile disappears slowly though and I can tell he’s trying to keep his cool because he knows I’m right, he does need me and he hates being in a position where he needs someone.

“And what are you asking for in return?” He eyes me up and down raises what would be his eyebrows.

“A percentage, a small percentage and protection after.” I hold my hand out to shake his, not like I really expect him to keep his end of the deal.

He wraps his arm around my back and pulls me into him, I feel the cold tip of his gun pressed against my stomach. Our eyes meet and he has that smug grin on his face, his eyes gleaming and blue.

“How about I just let you live to see daylight again?” He whispers closely to my face.

I nod with a smirk and he’s caught off guard, he inhales as he was about to give a snide remark but instead he pulls me close and kisses me.
I don’t pull away, instead I press in.
After trying to win over, Mr. J as he likes to be called, I’ve grown to need his touch at night. His cool hands against my warm skin, his lustful gaze as he watched me dance and the occasional remarks about taking me home I wish so badly he would make a promise on.
I bite his lower lip and his gun disappears and his hands run against my thighs.

“Promise me this time?” I speak against his lips and kiss down his neck.

“Promise you what doll?” He groans as my lips travel down his neck and my hands down to the waist of his jeans.

“That you’ll take me home tonight.” I hold onto his face as I kiss him, “Make me scream your name.” I grind my hips on his, “Because you’ve been making threats about it and I haven’t slept since. Now, I know you’re not the kind of guy who doesn’t pull through with his threats.” I kiss him softly.

“Well, well, well…” he breathes out, “You don’t have to ask me twice.” He holds my hips in place and lifts me to my feet, “Frost! Car!” He yells out but keeps his eyes fixed on me.

He holds his arm out for me to link up with him, I accept. We begin walking into the active part of the club, glances are made and at first I think it might be because of the risqué outfit I have on but then I realize it’s the man leading the way. I glance up at him, his face neutral and a small snarl on his upper lip as we walk out the door. The car door is open and he allows me to go in first as he slides in next to me on the leather seats in the back of a stretch limo.
He’s on me once the door closes, his hand around my throat, his tongue in my mouth and his fingers pressing on the outside of my shorts.
I’d let him this time, I’ll let him get comfortable, after all he is a power house so I know I’m going to have to use a different kind of approach with him.
I run my hands through his hair and press my hips up against his hand and moan in his mouth and I let his tongue rule over mine.
His taste was distinct, unbreakable and full of lust.
His hand pressed in the sides of my neck and I moaned a little louder, he pulled his mouth from mine and my eyes opened to meet the dark hazed blue eyes that traveled up and down my body before opening the car door to let me out.

“This won’t be long baby, come on.” He cackles and walks up to the front of his mansion.

The house had an old time feel, it was definitely a mansion and I can only wonder what some of the rooms hold. It’s the kind of house you would walk past on Halloween but at any other time of the year you’d be curious to step inside.
As I met him at the front door I feel the touch of him at my lower back, a faint smile comes on my face but once I enter the house my mouth hangs open a bit.
It’s lavish, a five start hotel with light colored marble floors, a kitchen to the right and a large dark set of stairs to the left. In front of me was a living room that looks like it’s never been touched, a fire place lit and a large black leather couch in front of it. The decor is something you would find in a home with too much money, things that didn’t always go together but were set out to prove a point.
I took a few steps inside and got a better look at the pristine white kitchen and a hallway under the stair case, it was dark and I was too consumed by everything else to care right now.

“Let me show you where you’ll be staying.” The low growl enters my ear.

Before I move I look at him, my eyebrows raised and my eyes open wide, “Staying?” I put my hand out to his chest to stop him for walking past me.

Another growl from his throat, deeper, “Yes.” He grabs my wrists and pushes my hand away from his chest, “People saw you walk out with me, usually I wouldn’t care but you’ve got an important job lined up with me and I’m going to need to make sure that the work of art stays valuable.” His head slowly tilts as a grin appears on his face, his capped teeth in full show.

I let a small sigh out, not wanting to fuel his already lit fire. His hand pressed on my lower back to walk and I do, towards the stairs. They are solid and a dark brown with small gold flecks in the railing, as I look over towards the kitchen I see another hallway on the other side of it, I’m making mental notes of everything here because it’s just far too much to consume at once.
As we get upstairs it’s a full balcony that hangs over the living room, the house is a very open concept for someone so recluse.
There are three doors upstairs and he leads me towards the third one that is closest to the kitchen, he opens the door and it’s like a private suite. A large bed with a dark red comforter, an opening to a full bathroom with no doors and a large horizontal window that goes from one end of the wall to the other.

“But you won’t be staying here tonight doll.” His hand reaches around my waist as he turns me out of the room.

He palms himself as we walk and my mind flutters with what I could of done with that, but I’ll play along with what he’s used to for now. He walks us back to the door closest to the stairs and opens the door.
An even bigger bed, easily four people could fit in it, the blankets are tossed about exposing the black sheets with the non-contrasting dark purple comforter. The marble floors follow through the entire house, the lighting is dim and I smirk as the reflection of the mirror on the ceiling catches my eye. The furniture is dark to match the stairs, a long dresser against the wall next to the door and a small nightstand on what I’m guessing is his side of the bed.
He adds pressure to my back and I walk in, the bathroom has no doors and has just a shower that is about four feet long and probably three feet wide, it has three shower heads coming from the ceiling and I can only imagine why he would need a shower like that, I look past the shower and it’s another door which I assume to be the closet.
I’m thankful for the moment he let me take in the scenery but I feel his hands getting impatient as he pulls down on my bottoms, I move my hips with him to help get them off.

“So I’ve made a few broken promises to you huh?” As the bottoms fall to the ground as he walks around me like he’s stalking his prey, I raise my eyebrow at him as he comes back in front of me and I nod, “I’ll make it up to you tonight baby girl.” He purrs and I try to ignore the chill down my spine.

He reaches behind me and unsnaps my bra with ease and I smile, he’s had his practice. His fingers graze my skin as he slides the straps off my shoulders and his hands follow down my chest. He moves his hands to my waist and walks me back to sit on the edge of the bed, he grabs my chin and kisses me, I can feel his caps against my lips and it hurts but feels good, he tastes so good.
He pushes my shoulders back and I grin at him as he stands between my legs and lifts them both up to his shoulders, he rests them there while he pulls his jeans down just enough.
I have felt his bugle from dancing on him so I knew what I was getting into, but I also knew this was going to be a lot more than just grinding on him.
He spits in his hand and runs his hand over his length, the sight alone has me bite my lip. He spreads my legs a little further and spits again and I feel it land on my clit. I close my eye my head is pounding, I’m not used to this and I almost hate that I’m enjoying it.
He slides his cock between my spread folds, his spit mixing with how wet I am has me grabbing my hair at the top of my head.
He has his eyes on what he’s doing, watching him rub himself over my clit and back down, he presses his tip inside me and he snarls.
I give him a look with my eyes wide thinking I did something wrong.

“You’re tight.” He growls and shoves his cock in me.

I scream out, my back lifting off the bed, my hands gripping the bed sheets above my head. He holds himself there, his head rolls back and he purrs and his thumb runs circles against my clit.

“Relax.” His voice is demanding and low as his eyes work up my body till he meets mine.

I take in a staggered breath and let it out, my back slowly settles and my thighs shake from him on my clit. He notices and moves his hands to my knees as he holds my legs against him. He finally moves and my breathing pick up again, his motions are quick as he slides in and out of me, my body bouncing against his every thrust. I grab onto my breast and massage over them, letting my fingers graze my nipples and he groans, I give him a smile as a loud moan escapes me.

“That’s it baby girl.” He growls and pushes my legs towards me and slams into me harder and faster.

The bed shakes beneath me and my moans are screams of pleasure as I feel him press deep inside me, I’m tightening up around him involuntary, my nails are digging into my own thighs as I hold them.
The room is filled with the smell of sex, lust and power. I can hear him groan, grunt, and give me an occasional snarl.
My back arches when he does that and he’s drawing me closer to my climax.

“Fuck!” I cry out, my hand cover my face as I clench around him and come, my stomach spasms with each hit of my orgasm.

He doesn’t stop, but I feel him throbbing and I know he’s close as each wave hits I tighten around him and he smacks my ass once as he pulls out and lets my legs fall.
He strokes himself a few times just letting himself spill out on my stomach.
I let out a laugh, knowing how I would of handled the situation, how I would of handled him.
Thinking of having The Joker under me, under my heels send a visible chill over my body and I moan once more.

“There’s more of that baby, whenever you’d like.” He pushes his hands under my back and under my thighs and lifts me up and surprisingly gently puts me down on the other side of the bed.

The thought of him doing this again definitely doesn’t sound bad and I’m kicking myself for it. He’s good, but I won’t let him get too far without me breaking him.

“I need to use the bathroom.” I sluggishly pull myself up and put my feet on the floor, my heels are still on and I laugh a bit.

“There’s a door across from the shower.” He glances over to me as I bend over and take my shoes off.

The cold marble feels good on my feet and I curl my toes and stretch my back as I stand, I look over at him as I feel his eyes on me but his face is straight. I can’t read him but I’m not really trying.
I walk past the bed and into the open bathroom, I close the door where the toilet is hidden and go pee.
I run my hands down my face, not completely realizing what I’m getting myself into.
The bank thing I was ready for, this though, this living here until then is not what I had planned and I was going to get Aaron for even getting me into this mess.
I finish and walk out to one of the two sinks and wash my hands, I splash the water on my face trying to get rid of some of the black makeup under my eyes. I grab the rag off the counter and wipe my face.

“I used the rag on the counter, I hope you don’t mind.” I come walking back in the bedroom and sit back on the edge of the bed.

I hear him move and I take a deep breath, his arms wrap around my waist and he slowly pulls me back into bed. I oblige and pull the blankets over me and turn my back to him.
I hate sleeping with men, I hate sleeping period. I swallow hard as I feel his arms wrap around me but I push him back.

“I, I don’t do this.” I get up and get out of the bed and almost run across the hall naked into the room that’s claimed mine for now.

I know he’s more than capable of breaking down this door and killing me but I’m not worried about that, I’m not worried about him I hear him growl as he gets up and slams the door but it doesn’t bother me, I have my own demons to worry about.

(hold me close) ‘til the night turns gray

Or, how ebf thinks the Kabby accidental honeymoon might have started. And also the scar-kink fic I threatened @shefollowedfires and @marcuskanc with. Set between 4x01 and 4x02, and obviously here be smut // NSFW stuff. Title from “Hold Me Close” by Overcoats.

For the third night in a row, Abby slips into the spacious room Marcus has claimed as home while they’re in the tower, medical bag in hand. She knows damned well  that he’s a competent grown man and could change the bandages around his wrists easily enough, but she’s desperate for reasons to be alone with him and this one looks respectable enough on paper. She’s not sure which of his other traits will define him on Earth, but his tendency for weird injuries is growing a reputation and Abby sees no harm in using that to her advantage.

No harm, either, in a few lingering kisses before she leaves and wanders back to her own bedroom down the hall. But no more than that either.

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anonymous asked:

Oh my goodness the last 2 duality chapters nearly killed me (in a good way). Can I pretty please have Lance/team learning to read Keith's mood through his ears and barely resisting the urge (or not) to pet them? If it fits of course, I love the klance pacing you've got going (which is also killing me in a good way)

[I’m writing Dualityverse fluff ficlets! (Because the latest chapters have been pure angst.)] [Find the rest on Tumblr here. Or read them all on AO3 as Finding Family.]

Thank you!

Set somewhere in the middle of SLH (chapters 14-15-ish).

“Okay, Shiro, be honest with me: are you psychic?”

Lance had his hands steepled in front of his mouth, his eyes serious as he stared at Shiro. So serious, in fact, that Shiro had to wonder if he’d somehow misheard the question.



Shiro frowned. “Is this just idle curiosity, or am I missing something?”

Lance’s intense gaze faltered, and tapped his fingertips together. His gaze slid toward the door. Shiro usually arrived early to breakfast with Matt, but the others would be here soon. Shiro was honestly surprised Lance was here before anyone else.

Matt leaned his cheek on his hand. “Is this about Keith?”

“What?” Lance gaped at him, his voice pitching toward the rafters. “Keith? Pfft. No way. What? Why would this have anything to do with that purple loser?”

Humming, Matt stirred some of the fresh fruit from Ryner’s garden into Hunk’s newest oatmeal variant. “I don’t know… Maybe it’s the way you keep staring at him when you think he’s not looking.” Matt paused, lifting his spoon to his mouth and smirking at Lance. “He noticed.”

[continued below]

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Prompt/Request: Kakashi’s Troubles

Anonymous said:

After the 3rd time Kakashi has to fire team 7 from Anbu, he drags himself through the door with his sleepy eyes drooping longer than usual. Manako greets him with a quirked eyebrow and he sighs, “extra paperwork. Long story.” Manako snorts, “What did your old team do this time? Those three are about as subtle as the last Icha Icha movie when they get toget her. Serriously, how did they even get into Anbu?” Kakashi’s cheeks redden over his mask, “well…" 

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for certain values of love

I wrote a thing. Here is the thing: 

There’s something missing in John Stilinski’s life, and he’ll never know what it was.

You can also read it here on AO3. 


Sheriff John Stilinski has just enough time to think that this is it, he’s a dead man, when the kid spins out of the darkness like some sort of whirling dervish, and slams his baseball bat into the side of the woman’s head. Again and again and again, until she stops moving. Until the bottoms of the boy’s jeans are splattered with blood and hair and fragments of bone and brain matter. Then he turns to face John, his fingers flexing on the grip of the bat, his dark eyes unreadable.

“Get on the ground,” John tells him, pointing his gun at him. “Put your hands behind your head.”

The kid’s brows draw together. His eyes narrow. “I just saved your life.”

John doesn’t even blink. “Put your hands behind your head. Now.”

The bat clatters to the ground as the kid obeys.


“John,” Chris Argent says. “I’ve got a lead on those killers you—”

“I don’t need a lead, Chris,” John tells him, gun still drawn on the kid. The kid is cuffed now, resting on his knees. His head is bowed, but John sees the way the kid’s gaze tracks him still. He’s hyper-vigilant. A predator. A hunter. “I’ve got one of them right here.”

The kid looks up, eyes wide.

If John didn’t know any better, he’d say the kid almost looked vulnerable.

There’s a sea of blood and bone fragments lapping at the kid’s knees, and a file on John’s desk, five inches thick, that both say different.


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Imagine running into Jared without noticing him, and he is completely amazed by you

Hello Echelon army (and others who love Jared Leto). I’ve been a serious admirer of Jared’s for quite some time, but I’ve never dared to start writing fiction about him. However, I’ve come across some great works of fan fiction about him, and got somewhat inspired to write Imagines of my own. 

So, this is going to be my first Imagine about Jared. Don’t hold it against me if I don’t do a great job, I’ll still give my best. Feel free to comment, and give me a couple of pointers or give me ideas for future Imagines.

This one turned to be longer than I’d expect it, so brace yourself for quite the reading. What can I say, I got inspired. :)

Imagine bumping into Jared Leto and not even noticing him, while he stays completely amazed by you.
Y/N - Your name
c/e - color of the eyes

Another day’s here. You wake up, get out of the bed not feeling like going to work, but alas, it’s your first month as an intern at the marketing agency and you know you have to be there in an hour. You’re in the bathroom washing your face, brushing your teeth and going over the weekend. Another Saturday’s gone by and you’re still single. No matter how many times in the week you went out to the club, restaurant, coffee place or for a simple walk, you’re always laying in bed alone and waking up alone. That’s it, you’re finally calling off the search. No more fix ups by your friends with their colleges, acquaintances and neighbors. No more countless night outs where only you can see is drunk boys, men and immature guys looking at you like you’re a piece of meat. It’s time you dedicated to your carrier and making sure you’re going to do something meaningful in your life. The best one comes when you least expect it.

Now that you’re done with your morning hygiene, it’s time to make some coffee and put on a bit of make-up. You don’t want to scare off the other intern and even worse your boss with those nasty under eyes. Before you start doing your make-up, you turn on the radio. The music coming out of the speakers is great, and you can’t help but identify with the lyrics immediately…

…   Your reflection I’ve erased, Like a thousand burned out yesterdays
Believe me when I say goodbye forever, Is for good
Was it a dream?, Was it a dream?
Is this the only evidence that proves it, A photograph of you and I …

- “Wow, I’ve never heard this song before, it’s so intense”, you start wondering who’s performing it. As you reach for your phone to Shazam it, you get a text from your BFF.

*** Hey doll, are we still on for today’s lunch date? :) I really need to check that new restaurant near the bookstore. I promise we’ll go to the bookstore later and treat you with a nice piece of writing. If there’s even any book left that you don’t own. 
Xoxo, (Your BFF’s Name)***

Good thing BFF reminded you about the lunch, you were so busy lately that you’ve completely forgotten about it. Thank God, you won’t have to have another lunch at the office.

You reply - 

*** Of course doll face, the lunch is totally on. Meet you at the bookshop at 1?Xoxo, Y/N. *** 

Seconds later a text arrives—

*** Perfect. See you then.***

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Day 10: Syaoran Has a Secret Admirer (SyaoRyuuou)

They were parked alongside the highway outside the city, on a rare night without a performance, when Syaoran found the flowers on the table. He was returning late to the trailer his best friend Ryuuou, and he shared after a long day of repairing tent canvas, and cleaning… well, everything. Ryuuou didn’t have to do much when they weren’t performing, except for daily practice, but there was still plenty for Syaoran to do as a backstage hand.  All the trapeze apparatuses, and the rolling stage, and backdrops that all just end up grimy, and then the main circus trailer truck needed a shine as well. With raw hands, Syaoran entered the small trailer, intending on just flopping onto his little bed and calling it a day.

But Ryuuou called out to him as he entered, halting his downward progress towards his bed.

“Huh?” Syaoran said, unsure what his roommate had said. Ryuuou was sitting in the driver’s seat of the trailer (one of the more comfortable seats) and studiously looking down at his hands, playing a game maybe.

“There’s something for you on the table.”

In between the back end, which had Syaoran’s bed, the door and the small bathroom stall, and the driver’s area and the raised platform that was Ryuuou’s bed, there was a small, clamped down table. And on it, Syaoran noticed a vase of flowers. Squinting, Syaoran got up from his half horizontal position, and came closer.

They were yellow and orange, something with wide open blooms, but not roses or daisies (about the only flowers Syaoran could identify. There was plastic wrapped around them, and a ribbon tied. They were obviously a bouquet like the ones the performers got quite often.

“These have got to be your’s, Ryuu,” Syaoran said. After all, he was just a hand. No fan would send him flowers.

“Check the card,” Ryuuou said, still without turning around. Syaoran looked at him, and noticed the back of his neck was red. Odd.

Syaoran pulled the small rectangle out of the bouquet and flipped it open. Inside it read:

To Syaoran, from your secret admirer

Syaoran’s face flamed, and he quickly turned the card back over, to check the front. No name. Inside only said those words, with no clue of who could have sent it.

“W-what? Who could have sent this?” Syaoran stuttered, holding the card like it was going to bite him. Ryuuou continued to not turn around, as Syaoran panicked. “This has to be a mistake, right? I mean, who…”

Could it have been… Sakura? But no, she probably didn’t know he existed, she was the star silk artist, and he was just a hand. They’d never even spoken, and if it was Sakura, there was no way he’d be able to look at her in the eye.

…Wait a second…

Syaoran narrowed his eyes, and looked at the handwriting of the note. Then, he snapped his eyes to the board above the table, which held various flyers for their shows, pictures from the tour, and sticky notes between him and Ryuuou. There was something familiar about that handwriting.

“Ryuuou, do you know who wrote this?” Syaoran asked, and watched as Ryuuou’s shoulders tensed. He still hadn’t turned, staring at whatever he was holding.

“Uh, no, of course not, they were just- just sitting here when I got back, um…” His voice was nervous. Syaoran tilted his head.

“Inside on our table? But no one has keys, except Kurogane, but I know it’s not him.” He and Fai were definitely a thing. And if they weren’t a thing, they would be soon. Syaoran was generally oblivious to things like that, but they were just that obvious.

Ryuuou flinched, and ducked, drawing his knees up until he was just a little ball on the seat, pressed against the steering wheel.

“I mean, I meant it was outside. On the step, and I found them when I got back from…”

“Oh yeah, weren’t you planning on going to the grocery store today?” Syaoran asked, noting the logo of the nearby grocery store on the tape holding the flowers together.

“Yeah! And, I got… milk?”

“Great,” Syaoran said, beginning to realize what it meant that Ryuuou had gone and bought these for him, and then given him a card that said that. His face was growing warmer by the second, but there was a pleased bubble inside his chest. He bit his lip against a smile. “Uh, Ryuuou? I want to show you something.”

Ryuuou relaxed, thinking that the topic had passed, perhaps.

“What’s up?” He turned around on the seat, and got up on his knees. Syaoran moved over in time to press his lips against Ryuuou’s. The bouquet was being crushed between them, and Ryuuou had squeaked in shock, but they quickly found a slow rhythm. Ryuuou’s lips were warm, and soft under his, and Syaoran found himself distantly marveling that this was happening.

When they mutually pulled back, Ryuuou was staring open mouthed, his face bright red, and lips interestingly pink. Syaoran was sure he was no better; he felt overheated, but even so a smile threatened to overwhelm him.

“Uhm,” Syaoran said, and Ryuuou’s stare broke into a laugh of delight.

“How’d you know it was me?” he asked, and Syaoran laughed too, batting him on the head.

“Your handwriting, dummy.”

“Oh,” Ryuuou said. “And… you’re okay with it?”

Syaoran nodded. He was sure he was, and proved it by pressing his free hand to Ryuuou’s shoulder, and tugging him close again. His lips were just as pleasant the second time.

I'm Busy Mending Pieces Of The Life I Had Before

Warnings: Constant mentions of depression, suicide and self-harm, and use of a common phan song in a slightly unconventional way which idk if works but ayy. Oh and Dan is a carrier, so mentions of m-preg.

A/N: I literally had no idea what c-section scars looked like so I actually looked them up (not expecting to get any results) and wow people actually share pictures of those scars for other mums to see what the fuck even is the internet man. For the phanfic weekly challenge.

Phil hates saying it, but he knows they never should have had the kid.

They never should have gone through with it. And it breaks his heart to even contemplate that thought, but the way that Dan visibly flinches when Phil even suggests that Dan hold their son for just a moment tells him that having this child was probably the worst decision of their life.

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The old me - young!sirius x reader

Request: I beg you to write me one like that with either Draco Malfoy or Sirius. I will love you forever

Well clearly I’ve been having some ~major~ young Sirius feels. 


Also, a bit smutty again. Oops ;)

Part two is posted here Part three here

Gray. Everything was gray. A year ago I had been so happy. So determined and hopeful. I was ready to fight for what I believed in. I spent my last two years at Hogwarts planning, scheming and practicing new spells. The day I graduated, I marched into Dumbledore’s office and demanded he put me in the Order. He was doubtful until I showed him some of the new tricks I had been working on.

A year later and I was worn out. Emotionally, physically and mentally exhausted. Every single day, I left headquarters and watched people die. The world was full of violence and hatred and there was nothing but routine keeping me going anymore. But what else is there to do but keep going? You can’t press pause on a war to go lay in a field of daisies and fall in love.

I was stuck in limbo. Every night when I returned to my room, I was fully aware that this could be the last time I undressed and got ready for bed. Each morning could be the last morning I wake up, take a shower, and go downstairs to eat breakfast with the other members of the order. Yet day after day, I existed. It had been months since I had felt anything but desperation or fear.

I was fully aware of the irony that at 18, I had barely started my life, and the threat of it ending seemed to always be on the tip of fate’s tongue. 

I had quickly ascended within the ranks of the Order of the Phoenix. The turnover was high (SOB), and I was a very skilled witch and strategist. Naturally, I inherited many of the day-to-day leadership and training duties. 

A few days after my year anniversary with the order, a load of new recruits showed up. I realized they must have just graduated; it was that time of year again. Seeing them was bittersweet. More hands on deck against Voldemort was a blessing, but I also saw my previous self in their young and eager faces. It pained me to think about where they would be in a year’s time.

Through the throng of people, I noticed the marauders. I remembered them from Hogwarts, we had been in the same house after all. They were always laughing and smiling. They were a perfect picture of carefree teen mischief. 

Sirius caught my eye and winked. I was confused until I remembered that we had a short fling during my last year in school. It wasn’t that Sirius wasn’t memorable in bed, because now that I think about it, he was pretty damn good. It had slipped my mind because it felt like eons since that part of my life.

Sirius and the rest of the marauders walked over to me, leaving Lily behind with Frank and Alice. I hugged James and gave Remus a quick peck on the cheek. Peter shook my hand, and then Sirius pulled me up into a huge bear hug. I must have looked like I needed it. 

I got a good look at him once he released me. In just a year’s time, he really became a man. Somehow, Sirius Black had become even more good looking. I didn’t think that was even possible. His shoulders were broader than before, and his cheekbones were more defined. He was, in all senses of the phrase, a total babe.

“Well, well, well (Y/N),” Sirius growled, “Long time no see. You promised you would write to me!” Oh yeah, I did promise to do that. I must have forgotten about it. Sirius continued, “And look at you. Absolutely ravishing. I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman in my life.” 

I knew he was lying. Being caught up in the middle of a war can really make a girl lose her appetite. I had become much thinner, almost gaunt. I hadn’t had a good night of sleep in weeks, and the bags under my eyes proved it. I was wearing an old t-shirt with a faded pair of blue jeans. My body was riddled with scares from my exploits, though with clothes on he could only see my arm scars and the one on my neck. 

I shuddered. I didn’t like thinking about the scar on my neck. It was a long thin white raised line, perfectly horizontal. It represented, without a doubt, the worst day of my life. 


It was my third day in the order. Alastor Moody was training me, and I was ready to kick some deatheater ass. We went on a routine training expedition, spying on favorite haunts of dark wizards. Alastor and I were casing Knockturn alley when we heard an evil cackling laugh. We whipped around, but we were too late. Bellatrix had grabbed us each by the shoulder and I heard a loud crack. She apparated us to Malfoy Manor, her sister’s home. Within milliseconds, Moody and I were surrounded by several deatheaters, two each. I saw him mouth to me, “STALL.” 

Bellatrix was taunting Moody. “AHAHAHA you’ve made a mistake Moody! And while you are with a new recruit. How…delicious.” 

At this point of my residency with the order, I was still romanticizing life as a soldier. I wanted my legacy to live on much longer than me, and I wanted my actions to inspire people decades from now. 

I promptly elbowed the deatheater on my left in the face, hard enough to break his nose. I spun around and kicked the other deatheater holding me as hard as I could between his legs. I reached into my sleeve to pull out my wand, but Bellatrix of course was much faster than me. 

I heard her evil laugh, and then she was holding me in front of her with her knife at my throat. She spat. “Moody, looks like you’ve got yourself a real feisty one here. Tell me where your headquarters is located and I’ll let her live.” 

The cold steel on my neck was sobering. I realized how much I screwed up, but there was nothing I could do about it now.

Dumbledore’s instructions had been very clear. Headquarters and locational information could always be changed. People, however, were irreplaceable.

So Moody acquiesced. “Okay, the headquarters. Let’s think again. Where are they?” 

I heard another loud crack across the room. Fabian and Gideon appeared, with their wands out. 

Bellatrix screamed. “NOOOOO!!!!!!!” She slid her hand and I felt intense pain. She let go of me and began exchanging curses with the newcomers. Realizing it was a lost cause, she apparated out of the Manor with her remaining cronies. 

I was standing on my own, but I felt faint. My vision grew darker. I sensed my knees hitting the ground, and then everything went black.

I woke up the next day in the room we used as a makeshift hospital. Our healer, Maggie, was changing my bandage. “That’s a nasty cut you got there (Y/N). You’re going to be okay, but I doubt that scar will ever go away.”

I looked over to my right. Alastor was sleeping in the bed next to me. I looked down in horror to find a red-soaked bandage where his calf used to be. 

This was all my fault.


I didn’t mind that Sirius was lying about me being beautiful. I actually kind of liked it. My life had been nothing but grim lately, and I was in desperate need of (metaphorical) fresh air. 

Instantly, I knew what I had to do. “Boys, would you me to show you around?” They nodded their heads in unison. 

I began. “Well obviously, this is the living room. Over there is the kitchen.” I started up the stairs, walking backwards and babbling about nonsense like a proper tour guide. We arrived on the deserted second floor. We walked past the broom closet and I stood in front of the first bedroom door. I herded the boys in one by one, until only Sirius remained in the hallway with me. “Guys, this will be your new room for the foreseeable future. Please make yourselves comfortable while I have a word with Padfoot over here.”

I grabbed Sirius by the front of his black t-shirt and yanked open the door to the broom closet with my free hand. James and Remus were staring wide-eyed at me, and Peter was blushing towards the floor. They knew. I didn’t care. It had been too long. I had been stuck in the monotony of this wretched war for too long. I needed something to make me feel human again.  I craved intimacy and I grasped at the threads of positive emotions when they were in reach.

People learned quickly how short life really was once they joined the order. I, too, as an initiate, was surprised by the spontaneous and wild actions of the more seasoned veterans. Now though, I get it. By tomorrow morning I could be dead. We all could. Naturally, this mutually agreed upon feeling led to many scandalous acts. Sirius and I would hardly be the first.

I forcefully pulled Sirius into the broom closet behind me, shutting the door as I turned him around and pushed him against the wall. I pressed myself flush against him and ferociously attacked his lips with mine. I felt him smirk as he slid one hand in my hair and grabbed my ass with the other one. 

I pulled away just enough to unhook his belt buckle and yank down his pants. I grabbed him and started pumping. In a matter of seconds he was hard as a rock. 

He broke the embrace to unbutton my pants and pull them down. He reached a finger in my underwear, feeling his way around. I moaned.

“Jesus, (Y/N). You’re soaked.” He hooked his pinkies on either side of my underwear and slid those down too.

I stepped out of my clothes and jumped. Sirius caught me of course, as smooth as he was. He lowered me onto him. In one quick motion, he was inside of me. 

He pressed me against the wall and pumped hard and fast. Sirius held my thigh with one hand and moved his other hand to my clit. He began to trace circle 8′s.

I felt his cock twitch and I knew he was close. I could feel the first waves of my orgasm washing over me.

“Sirius, don’t stop.”

He groaned and I felt him finish. It sent me over the edge too. 

For a few long minutes he stayed there with me against the wall. He leaned his forehead in against mine and looked me in the eyes.

Without a word he gently put me down and searched the floor for my discarded clothes. I accepted them and we both got dressed again. 

The whole ordeal had barely lasted ten minutes. We left the broom closet and came within sight of the boys’ bedroom. I heard some hoots and hollers, but I didn’t even glance their way. I turned to give Sirius a kiss on the cheek, and headed down the hall to my room. I didn’t look back.

An overwhelming sense of relief flooded me and my eyes got teary, For the first time in ages, I felt like a teenager again. I finally experienced something other than gore or terror. For a short second, I almost felt like the old me.


Youngjae’s favourite dance move

Better Than A Hurricane

John Laurens, Alexander Hamilton

Summary: It’s dark and rainy and John is feeling a bit low. When Alexander appears and says he’s exhausted John makes it his mission to get his friend to rest. It certainly brightens up his night.

A/N: My first attempt at writing a Hamilton fic. This blog has been crowded with Hamilton submissions, so I decided that I wanted to contribute to it myself. Not sure if I will be writing regularly for this fandom, but I hope you like it nevertheless!

Words: 1 652

John honestly couldn’t remember ever experiencing this much rain. It was positively pouring outside; creating ocean-like puddles on the uneven ground, so much unlike the dusty streets he was used to. The breeze was like a constant slap to the face; the wind moaning so loudly that you could almost get deaf. The windows could probably crack by a simple tap on the glass, since the storm outside was pounding against them ruthlessly. It was safe to say that John was glad to be inside right now.

To be fair he’d rather be drinking himself to sleep at the bar, but he valued his life a bit too much to risk going out there. Wars and revolutions were nothing but trifles. But a storm like this? Let’s just say that John knew when to pick his battles.

“Dreaming of a better tomorrow, Laurens?”

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*Friendship Rings*

So I saw a comic today on my dash, and a request from another person in the community asking just about anybody to write a fanfic about it.

So I thought, why not step up to the plate for once? Even trash like myself can write a drabble on stuff like this >;3c Mind you I’m not that great of a writer, so I’m terribly sorry if it doesn’t come out as any of you imagined ;v;)

Original idea here

Original comic here

@reapthis76​ Hopefully this is good enough for you!! <33

Edit: I felt super guilty for using the joke without crediting the person who made it in the tags, so thank you so much to @infinite-atmosphere for your inspiring tags!! The post where they made them is here >;3c

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Imagine: You and the Joker having a baby

Hey guys! So this is my first imagine ever. Generally is with Jared Leto Joker. I know that the Joker is not that fluffy, but I’ve always imagined having a boyfriend, that is a bad guy and I’m the only one, who he threats well. Besides, this is an imagine and everything is possible :D There are not so many imagines with babies, so I decided to write one. I hope you will like it and feel free to tell me your opinion :) 

Words: 1,677

Tapping your barefoot on the cold floor in the toilet, you were waiting for the pregnancy test, which you held in your hands. Your body was shaking, because you were scared. Scared how would he react when you tell him or when he finds out alone. You’ve never spoken on this topic. You already made a script in your head. He is so possessive and selfish and hate everything which takes your time when you could spend it with him, what alone for a baby, that takes every minute from your free time. 

Two red lines.
“FUCK!” you swore. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, this wasn’t supposed to happen… Oh Holy Jesus”
You were so confused. Do you have to tell him? Or just keep it in secret until you can’t hide it no more and say you had no idea.

And then… here you are. After three hours of giving birth, finally you were hugging your sweet little baby girl - (B/N). How did Mistah J find out? Next week after you made your pregnancy test, you went to a gynecologist. The doctor said that the embryo is six weeks old. In the next two weeks and a half you started vomiting.

“What the fuck is going on, doll face? Are you sick?” he asked you, while you were washing your mouth in the toilet.
“J… Please, don’t freak out.” You placed your right hand on your belly, looked down for a moment and then looked up at him. He just stood there, watching at your stomach. Mistah J slowly started to walk to you and put his hand on yours. His eyes were wide open and his mouth looked like a red horizontal line.
“What have you done, you stupid whore…This is not happening…Impossible” he yelled. You felt tears sliding on your cheeks. He knows perfect, that he is the one that you’ve ever loved and you are still loving him. J went crazy and for a moment both of you thought that he was going to slap you, but centimeters from your left cheek, his hand just hanged in the air. He constricted it into a fist and hit the sink by your left side. Then he just left you there. Alone in the bathroom. You heard the Purple Lamborghini’s wheels rubbing on the asphalt and you heard them no more until the hour was 4:17am.
You couldn’t sleep well. You cried all night, lying in your bedroom all alone, hugging your legs.
“(Y/N)! WHERE ARE YOU, PUDDIN’?! (Y/N) DARLIN’ STOP WITH THIS GAME I NEED YA!” you heard a familiar voice. It was J, drunk, trying to go upstairs but because of his condition the only thing that he was doing was to fall every time after he made a single step up.
“Joker, are you crazy, how did you get home like that, you’re drunk as fuck, you could have hurt yourself!?”
“My sweet little (Y/N). You’re so naive. How could you think for a second, that I am that stupid to drive drunk, huh? Looks like I’m the only smart person here, am I not? Yes, yes, help your daddy to go to his bed, yes, that’s right, that’s right, doll face.”
You wrapped your left hand around his waist and let him lean on you so you could lead him to the bedroom. It was hard, because he is taller and his weight struggled you, but finally you placed him on the bed. You sat beside him and looked at his wide smiling face. He was watching you too.
“Tell me, darlin’. How are we going to name him…or her?”. You couldn’t say anything. Just kept watching him. Mistah J placed his head in your lap and stared at you still smiling. “C'mooon, (Y/N), darlin’, I really wanna know. Aaaah he or she is going to be daddy’s little prince or princess, yeeesss… Gotham City will shake of fear when they hear his or her name. Daddy will be proud.” he said with closed eyes, probably imagining everything he was saying and reached to get your hand in his cold one. Suddenly he started to laugh and it was the hysterical and maniacal laugh. Joker’s laugh. “You hear me, baby? I love yewww and yourrr mummmmyyy tooo”. You couldn’t believe what he has just said and let him hold your hand and with the other one your started massaging his scalp and running your fingers through his green hair, so he could calm down and rest easier. You were wondering if he meant all these words.
“I can’t wait to punish you for your naughty act, doooll faacee.” he said, then kissed your belly, wrapped hands around your waist and fell asleep. You kept fondling him and soon you fell asleep too.
Next morning when you woke up, the first thing you saw was cold blue icy eyes staring at you. Mistah J looked like a mess, but he was your mess. His hair - shaggy, the red lipstick blurred around his mouth and he had no shirt on. You felt his surprisingly warm hand rubbing your stomach.

Next days he was always apologizing for everything he said in the bathroom and serious conversations about the future followed. Although them you secretly were worrying because the baby wasn’t still born and everything will be different when this happen. You were scared because with the baby, you couldn’t commit crimes and when the enemies find out, there will be a new weak spot, which will be the perfect opportunity for them. You gave a word to yourself, that you will do everything to keep your little angel safe.
First time when J hold (B/N) he looked abashed and worried. You left them in your room to take a shower for 15 minutes and when you came back you saw one of the cutest things ever. While (B/N) held his dad’s finger, J looked extremely happy and his wide smiling face proved that. His golden grill shined. (B/N) looked at him and Mistah J was doing funny faces and laughed like the crazy psychopath he is. He waggled and tried to lull the baby and then headed to its room to leave it sleeping.
You watched J long time and since (B/N) was born, you saw a little change in his behavior. Even bigger when you two started to have feelings to each other. Yes, it was really hard to get to know him and it happened really slowly, but at the end it was worth it. You understand his interests. You saw beauty in his darkness and he saw darkness in your beauty. You’ve always wanted such a relationship - to have someone, who is only good for you. (b/N) just helped to be even better. You noticed that you and here were the only one he really cares about. No matter that at the beginning was difficult and J didn’t want her. Although he already have declared his feelings to you, sometimes he is still trying to act like he does not care so much as he do in front of the others. But you know him well and his offending when you tell him that he is so kind and careful with (b/n) is enough to prove inverse. He convinced you when you saw him lulling her when she was 4 months old.

(b/n)’s cry woke you up. You didn’t feel J'sarms wrapped around you as it was when you two fell asleep. The only thing you could feel were the cold sheets. (b/n) cried loudly again. You stand up and put your shorts and top. Rough night with J… Maybe he was downstairs drinking a glass of bourbon as he always did, no matter that after nights like this you both were exhausted. You headed to (b/n)’s room and heard someone talking to her. The door was left ajar. You peeked and saw Mistah J holding your little daughter, gently talking to her. She let out a little cry, but J immediately calmed her down. He was moving side to side, absolutely focused on the child.
“Yesss, my little princess. Who is daddy’s princess, who, who? No, no, no, don’t cry, don’t cry. You’re going to wake your mummy up and we don’t want that, do we? Let her sleep a little. Daddy is here and he is going to take care of you just like your mummy did for your daddy. Yes, don’t you know that your daddy was a really bad daddy before he met your mummy. Of course you don’t know it, you weren’t even born. But even when you were in mummy’s belly I swore to keep you both safe no matter what it costs, because you two are the most important things in my life and I won’t let anyone to touch ya.” he was talking to (b/n). You just stood there, listening to your boyfriend. You pushed the door lightly and ran on toes to your puddin’. He freed his one hand, hugged you and kissed you passionately.
“Were you spying us, (y/n)?” he asked with a fake dour face. “Such a naughty girl you are”
“Nooo, I don’t know what you’re talking about…J, you are amazing.I’m really proud of you for facing your fears and changing because of us.” he kissed you again and sat on the couch in the baby room.
“Come to mummy, angel” I said and I took her from J’s hug.
“I feel…harmony. I don’t remember the last time I’ve felt like this. I can finally call this place a home.” he hugged you tighter and gently kissed your neck. “I don’t say this quite often but (y/n), darlin’, I love you. You and our princess.”
:We love you too, puddin… More than anything and anyone. Always.“ You said and kissed him, then placed my head on his chest, (b/n) in my arms, You in your puddin’s and you all slowly fell asleep.

Do I wanna know – part 3

Two people from different worlds fall in love in a world they created for them own. But a shadow hunts her and as it gowns darker and darker, it threatens to destroy everything.

This is a high school AU and some parts could be triggering I think so if they are or if you just want to talk, you can always come and talk to me. My ask box is always open and I’m always here if you need me. If you liked it, you can like/reblog/message me and I will be eternally grateful and happy. Y/n = your name, y/l/n = your last name.

I’m so so sorry this took forever! I’m the worst writer ever but here it is at last. I want to give a big big thank you to my bestest friend and my Nugget for helping me with figuring out a lot of things about this story. She’s the best and I couldn’t do this without her! There literally wouldn’t be a story if she isn’t there with me for every step. Go give her some love!

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Request: Clumsy

Request: could you do one where the reader is really clumsy and is always falling over/knocking into things so they refuse to take her on a hunt until idk she saves them or proves to them she is a good fighter or something? yeah um that would be cool if you could thank you xx

Word Count: 613

Here it is, I hope you like it!:D Thank you!

“Oh, dammit!”

You nurse your injured arm, cradling it close to you. It’s not bleeding, but a decent strip of skin has been yanked away. You’re used to pain. And not because you’re a hunter.

You just always were the clumsy sort- take, for example, when you were five, you dropped a knife. Into your foot.

And when you were ten, you went to blow out your birthday candles and set fire to your hair.

And when you were fifteen, you nearly fell off the roof because you were trying to get a hold of your neighbours’ Frisbee, just about breaking your legs in the process.

It just continues- you’d burned yourself more times that anyone could count, you wind up horizontal more than you are vertical- it’s just not in your set of gifts to be graceful and elegant.

“What did you do this time?” Sam chuckles. You send him the most half-hearted glare.

“Just my arm.” You mutter, sitting down on the couch- mercifully, without hurting yourself or knocking anything. He rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his beer. “Where are you going tonight?”

“Ghost down in the town centre. We thought it was a simple salt ‘n burn, but apparently, it’s tied to a necklace and that’s where it is.” He informs you. You nod thoughtfully.

“Not too hard?” You ask. He shakes his head.

“Should be simple enough.”

“Anything I could help with?”

“You?” Dean asks, coming into the room, “No offense, Y/N, but…”

“I get it.” You laugh it off. You’re not hurt, not really, “Too clumsy. Got it.”

“You know we don’t want to-“ He begins. You roll your eyes.

“Dude. It’s nothing.” You shrug him off, and he shoots you a grateful smile.

In the evening, they leave, and you’re left on your own in the room. They’ve been gone barely an hour when you get a phone call. As soon as you pick it up, you hear Sam frantically speaking down the line.

“Thank God you picked up! Y/N, you gotta get here, it’s too powerful! Get the necklace, it’s silver with a green gem! Quick!”

There’s a scream, and the line clicks shut.

You hitch a ride to the old building and run inside, lighter in hand. Come on, come on, come on!

You can hear a yelling, but ignore it. They can keep themselves safe, but you have to find the necklace. That’s all that’s on your mind as you ransack your way through drawers and cupboards. You have to smash through a small back panel, but your hands eventually find the dainty necklace. It’s so pretty, it’s almost a shame to burn it.

It slowly catches fire, the silver chain and pendant melting into mush. There’s an agonized scream from downstairs, and you know it’s done.

There’s footsteps coming up behind you, and you turn to see the guys. They look a little bloody, but apart from that, they’re okay.

“You did it.” Dean says, sounding vaguely surprised. You laugh.

“I’m not totally useless, you know.”

“Never cease to amaze, huh?” He teases. You laugh, and the three of you head back to the motel in the confidence that it’s gone.

Later on, you’re coming back into the room after a supply run, and you open the door. Sam, apparently, is right behind it.

The bottle of beer falls from his grip, but despite the bags in your hands, you manage to grab it before so much as a drop spills out. He stares at you in awe as you hand it back to him.

“I think you should start coming on hunts sometimes.” He says, and you laugh.

“We’ll see.”