look in the basement of your heart there is a light that just went dark

New toy II pt.1

Jungkook x reader

genre: smut, fluff, sub!jungkook

word count: 8.5k

Your new neighbour turns out to be the perfect toy for you.

Originally posted by nochuie

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tealey  asked:

hey love u probably have already gotten this request but if and when u get time could u write the apartment neighbor au for bts hyung line?? thanks a billion!! i love u and ur work so so much! 🌷💗

i got a couple requests for it, so here it is the hyung line x neighbor au!!
find the maknae line (here)


  • lives like a recently graduated student,,,,,meaning he has barely any actual furniture in his house aside from bookshelves, a bed, and a desk
  • but namjoon likes the minimalist vibe,,,like he doesn’t need much just his essentials at his desk, maybe a couple signed photographs he’s hung up near his computer and dried flowers near the window
  • more than anything he likes having a lot of space to move around because he likes to walk in circles when he thinks and he doesn’t like it if he ends up like slipping on something or walking into a table 
  • plus the more furniture there is,,,,,,the more a safety hazard he is 
  • but one distinct thing about namjoon is i think he’d have a really good smelling apartment,,,,,,like he’d light candles because no matter what anyone says he’s a soft romantic at heart. like it’s deep down, but he is
  • has a habit of brushing his teeth at the morning sink and not in the bathroom because he falls asleep at his desk and not actually in his bed LOL
  • he’s the buildings library. if someone mentions that they’ve been meaning to buy a book namjoon probably already has it and will lend it to them,,,,,,,,,,,but he’s like “please,,,,,,,,,,,,,,bring it back”. he’s emotionally connected to his books
  • and everyone is like “he looks so smart and so,,,,,upright and stoic” when in reality namjoon is a clumsy guy who tries to hold steaming hot coffee, a philosophy anthology, a notebook, and some bread all at once and you can imagine how that ends (very. badly)
  • and in reality he wishes more of the neighbors would see him as a down-to-earth kind of guy,,,,but then like he’ll tower over them and have this apathetic look on his face and they’re like “oh,,,,,oh my ,,,,,” and he only realized later when he’s alone that “i should,,,,,,smile more shouldn’t i”
  • but you’ve never been put off by him, if anything you’ve always really admired how Intellectual he seems and when you talk to him you always feel like you learn so much
  • and you’re always like “namjoon, tell me a cool fact!!” and he’s like “well did you know aristotle thought he could tell if a goat was female or male depending on which way the wind was blowing” and you’re looking at him like ,,,,,,,,,,,,amazing and he’s just like sORRy,,,,,it’s not cool right but you’re like no omg every time you manage to surprise me it’s fantastic
  • and you and him get along,,,,namjoon is really grateful for you because you’re always telling the neighbors that he’s fun even if they think he’s kind of stuffy
  • and so you would consider yourself friends by most standards,,,,but how close well you’re not sure
  • but what you do know is one night you’re walking back home from a hangout with some friends and you’re alone and it’s dark and you can hear footsteps behind you and you look back and there’s,,,,,,some dude???? who you’ve never seen before
  • and he speeds up and passes by you with a smile and you’re like huh. weird
  • but then,,,,,,the next day you see him again. and this goes on for a couple of weeks and all your friends are like ‘dude you have a stalker you need to tell someone’ and you’re like not sure because he’s never,,,,,,like he’s never spoken or touched you
  • but it scares you ofc and you decide that you shouldn’t go out alone at night,,,,,,but it so happens that you’ve run out of toothpaste and you’re like grumbling about having to go down and walk the alley to the nearest convenience store
  • but you remember your stalker and you get kind of panicked,,,,,so you decide to see if namjoon can help
  • and when you tell him he’s like “of course ill go with you,,,,,,but,,,,,,im not intimidating at all” and you’re like “namjoon,,,,,i think you’re a sweet person but you’re like hitting six feet and have a jawline that could cut someone. i think,,,,,,,you’ll be really helpful” and namjoon kinda tilts his head and he’s like “some people have told me i give off a scary vibe”
  • and you’re like no no not scary,,,,,but im pretty sure people don’t want to mess with you and it’d just make me feel safe to have you there
  • and namjoon gets up and gets his keys and he’s like let’s go
  • and it’s chilly in the night air, but you and namjoon are talking about how your week has been when suddenly from the corner of your eye you see that freaky dude and you instinctively step closer to namjoon who reads the panic on your face
  • and he leans down and is like “is he here?” and you’re like “yeah,,,he’s over there by that building” and namjoon flicks his gaze over to see the guy staring you two down
  • and namjoon doesn’t like the way his eyes are glued to your figure even from far away and so namjoon decides he should do something before that creep gets any ideas
  • so he flings his arm around your shoulder, pulling a surprised you into his side and speaking a bit louder he goes “you came out without a jacket, yah as a good BOYFRIEND i should keep you close so you’ll be warm!”
  • and you look up at the word boyfriend, but namjoon is still glaring over at the stalker who instantly tenses at the word boyfriend and namjoons narrowed, pissed off gaze
  • and before you know it the guys turned the corner of the building and disappeared and namjoon safely gets you to and from the store
  •  and the whole elevator ride up he’s like “that guy is really weird, you should tell the police” but you’re like,,,,,,,,thinking about the warmth of namjoon’s broad chest,,,,,,and how,,,,,your heart almost melted when he called himself your boyfriend
  • and namjoon has to wave his hand in your face for a bit to get your attention and when you snap out of it he gives a soft laugh and he’s like “i was worried you went into shock.” and you’re like “ah,,,,,”
  • and he’s like “i really should accompany you more often, that guy was looking at you like some kind of animal i don’t want to let you go anywhere al-” and you’re like “i want that too, i want you to,,,,,” and you kind of clam up and namjoon is like hmm and you’re like under your breath you’re like “like,,,,,a boyfriend,,,,my actual boy,,,friend,,,,”
  • and you think he can’t hear you, but he does and his ears go pink and he’s like “ah- i ,,,,,i,,,,,,,,,,i can do that,,,,,” and you’re like wait really
  • and namjoon is like “this is going to sound really corny, but i didn’t want to let you go after pulling you into my arms. i guess you only feel that way with people you like?” and he smiles
  • that rare, beautiful smile and you like reach out and lightly take his hand and he feels your fingers lock and he’s like ,,,,,,,,,, and you’re like ,,,,,,,
  • but it’s cute you’re just standing there holding hands like two kids in love
  • also that stalker doesn’t even dare come around anymore. he accidentally ran into namjoon alone at the bus stop and namjoon ever so casually was like “you get near my s/o again and you won’t see the light of day. cough cough”


  • specifically asked for the basement apartment so he wouldn’t have any noisy neighbors and more than anything he likes having his apartment dimly lit. bright lights aren’t his things 
  • didn’t bother buying a tv, splurged on having a second monitor and good soundboard for when he makes music
  • spends a lot of his time sitting in his desk chair with his feet like pulled to his chest, chewing on the end of his pen and just thinking
  • unfinished cold coffee in really old mugs litter his kitchen, along with flyers for fast-food that he never throws out
  • has a pet cat named ‘clef’ after the sheet music symbol and who is slightly overweight and spends fifty percent of his time sitting on yoongi’s keyboard when yoongi is trying to work
  • sometimes he makes his bedroom into a dark room where he can make prints of the photographs he’s taken that he then hangs up on the walls,,,,but like two weeks later he gets sick of them and takes them down to replace with new ones
  • lives in comfy hoodies and basketball shorts and jimin comes over and is like “hyung, there’s no windows since we’re all the way down here - but you should go out and get some light!!! right clef?” and yoongi and his cat are both like,,,,,it’s ok. we’ll sit here in the dark we like it
  • clef likes to bury his cat toys in yoongi’s bed so when yoongi does sleep like in his actual bed he always finds some kind of stuffed mouse or a bundle of feathers under his pillow and he’s like “clef,,,,,,,,again?”
  • you’ve been bestfriends with yoongi for as long as you can remember and you’re not really his “neighbor” because you live like 5 floors above him but you hangout at his place whenever
  • and you also run errands for him because you know how busy he works so if clef needs cat food or yoongi needs human food you’re there for him if like jin or jimin can’t do it
  • when you do stop by most of the time you lay on the couch with clef purring on your stomach as you read a book and yoongi works on his music. stopping every now and then to play something for you and ask how it sounds,,,,,like you’re not high maintenance friends who need to blab about anything. you two are content in each others silent presence
  • but this is not the same,,,,,,for yoongi’s other friends. like jin gets his whole Leave me In Peace thing going on but jimin and taehyung and hoseok are all like “yoongi,,,,,,let’s get you a social life”
  • and yoongi is like “pass” but these three,,,,,,you can’t like,,,,,you can’t stop them
  • and so when yoongi calls you with a please save me you end up sitting in his living room squished between jimin and hoseok and yoongi is like “for hells sake i don’t want to go on a date with someone I DONT EVEN KNOW”
  • and taehyung is like “here hyung, borrow my tie it might be too big tho,,,” and yoongi is like “im not going. blind dates never work out”
  • and you’re like “guys, let him not go.” and they’re like “NO he needs to see the sun. talk to people. clef is not your significant other yoongi, that person is out there! waiting ! for ! you!” 
  • and yoongi grunts and falls back into his desk chair like “clef is fine. he understands me”
  • but as usual, three against one never works out great and somehow you end up watching yoongi walk down the street, pulling at his collar and grumbling as his friends shout that he’ll have tonight, they promise
  • and when yoongi looks back. dressed for the first time in actual dress pants and a dress shirt, hair slicked back you’re like,,,,,,,,holy shit my bestfriend is hot
  • but all he says is “take care of clef. ill be back soon”
  • and you sit in his apartment, clef nuzzling against your face as you think about all the time you’ve spent with yoongi, how well you know him, how well you guys get along without that much communication and you pick up clef and you’re like “meow if you think i like yoongi” and clef is like “meow” and you’re like “meow again if he likes me,,,,,,” and clef just sticks his tongue out and you’re like gfhbklsjfds but two minutes later you hear the gentle “meow” and you’re like,,,,,,,sighs,,,,,i should have told him when i had the chance
  • and yoongi gets home pretty late, like midnight and when you open the door he’s like “,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,it was horrible”
  • and immediately like leans forward into your arms and you’re like !?!??! because he’s never been big on skinship and you’re like “yoongi?”
  • and he steps inside, pushing you gently backwards as he buries his head into your neck and he’s like “,,,,,,,peoplemfsoannoyingmf”
  • and you’re like “i can’t hear you???” and he let’s go, looking into your eyes and he’s like “people are so annoying.” and you kind of awkwardly chuckle like “yes i thought you knew this”
  • and he’s still looking at you, more intense than ever before and you’re like ????? and he’s like “not you though. you’re never,,,,,,,annoying. i want you around all the time.”
  • and you blink a bit, feeling your face heat up because like WHAT is he saying but yoongi just keeps looking, letting his fingers trail lightly down your cheek before he buries his face in your neck once again
  • and you’re like “yoongi,,,,,what does this mean?” and he whispers, letting his lips press to the skin of your collarbone and he’s like
  • “it means that i don’t need blind dates. i don’t need to find someone for me, i already,,,,,,,,,,i already have you,,,,,,,”


  • home is where the heart is,,,,,,,,and the heart is most pleased by food so guess who has a mario themed rice cooker and pan set ? THIS BOY (jin. i mean jin) 
  • but yes of course he’s the grandmaster chef who all of bangtan adores to and goes running to when they all remember they could probably set their own apartments on fire if they as much as tried to boil water
  • but like,,,,,,jin doesn’t only keep bangtan Fed,,,,,,he’s always like @ his neighbors like “i baked some cookies. i made some chicken. i actually bought too much lettuce once so i decided to hell with it and made a 5 course meal for 16 people you want to come over and have dinner with me?”
  • an actual angel is what im trying to get at here
  • but also an actual DORK his bedroom is just a bed full of mario plushies and he spends half of his days off laying upside down off his bed playing games on his phone like an actual child
  • like the most grown up thing about him is yes he can cook and actually has a first-aid kit and learned how to fix his fire alarm
  • but everything else is just,,,,,,,,,,him being as cozy as possible under his mario blanket in his mario pajamas playing a mario game on his old as hell gameboy that he begged the guy at the gamestop to fix for an obscene amount of money
  • like i don’t think jin goes out of his way to try and decorate his place or cater to an aesthetic, like his kitchen is stocked full of supplies and food and he has a stainless steal oven
  • but other than that it’s just,,,,,,,,,mario toys and a big sofa for him to enjoy said games and food on
  • he hates crumbs though. like taehyung came over and used his computer and the crumbs that go inbetween the keyboard literally made jin want to strangle him
  • oh how could i forgot: pink bath curtains 
  • and you don’t know him all that well, just that he’s unbelievably gorgeous and sweet and has a really loud laugh that you heard from an open window once and that you swore was the cutest thing in the world like how could someone laugh like that??? what purity
  • anyway you wish you could be his friend,,,he seems so positive and happy but you’re like ,,,,,,,,, he isn’t interested
  • until you get a knock on your door and it’s ???? jin and he’s like “heY do you know anything about acting?” and you’re like “i watch dramas?” and he’s like “good enough, i need some help”
  • and you let him in and you’re a bit confused but jin just sits on your carpet and hands you what looks like a script and he’s like i just graduated with an acting major and got a minor role for a friends performance,,,,,,,do you think you could read through the lines with me
  • and in your head you’re like,,,,,,,why ask me of all people
  • and jin like he basically can read your mind is like “i was going to ask namjoon to help me, but he couldn’t stop stuttering over the first three lines and i almost died,,,,,,sorry if this is random!!”
  • and you’re like no no it’s fine and so you look down at the script and your eyes nearly fall out because the first stage cue is literally ‘get on top of him’
  • and jin opens his arms and is like ‘come here so we can get in position’ and you’re like EXCUSE ME but you’re also like,,,,,,,he needs help he just graduated lsadfgjlefkt
  • so you like scoot a bit closer to him and jin is like “i know this is horribly awkward, but im gonna lay down and you can just like,,,,,pretend you’re doing a push up over me”
  • and you’re like ,,,,,,what in gods name,,,,,,,,,,,,but he’s so handsome and nice and you’re like let me try to do this and not DIE
  • but when you like put your hand on either side of his head and like try to keep yourself up you look down and there,,,,,is jin’s beautiful face and he’s like “this is a good workout”
  • and you can’t like you can’t help but burst into laughter and your arms go weak and you manage to like not fall onto him but like roll off onto the side and jin is like “pleASE,,,,i need to get through these lines” and you’re like “i can’t im sorry” and he’s like ;;;;;;; it’s ok i understand how this is like,,,,,,,,,,so weird
  • and you’re like “how about i just read through them with you”
  • and jin says that he’s thankful you haven’t kicked him out of your apartment yet for asking for something so crazy,,,,but you’re just blushing and trying to laugh it off 
  • and you get through the script but jin stops before a kiss scene and is like “thank you i think you really helped”
  • and you’re like “,,,,,,,i hope the performance goes well” and jin gives you his gummy smile that makes your heart skip a beat and he’s like “i do too”
  • but before he leaves he’s like “im sorry again,,,,,about the whole do a push up above me thing,,,,” and you’re like ,,,,,,,,, covering your face because you two were so close but it was so,,,,,,,so ,,,,,, funny
  • and he’s like “it’s gonna be hard not to think of you when i do that on stage though,,,,,,” and you’re like huh and he’s like “you looked so cute trying to hard, i really am sorry”
  • and your face heats up again because ok you were embarrassed before from the Situation and now he’s just being really Cheesy but like you’re loving every moment of it
  • and jin catches himself and is like “you probably think im weird, ill go” but you’re like “,,,,,,,,,,no it wasn’t bad it was fun”
  • and jin perks up and he’s like “does that mean i can come and ask for your help again??” and you’re like “s-s-ure,,,,” and jin is like !!!!!!! “thank you so much ill be sure to bring some food as a gift next time too, see you then!”
  • and you close the door and have to like steady your breathing and you’re like he’s so cute whilst jin is just like,,,,,,,,standing in front of his apartment with his head pressed against the door and he’s like ‘i made a fool out of myself,,,,,,,,,but i think they like me??’


  • best neighbor award??? it is he 
  • the person who carries your sick grandma up the stairs, the person who entertains your kids if you have to run and check if you didn’t double park, the person who tells creeps to piss off if they start whistling at high school girls, and the person who you find telling others that he’s really grateful for being alive on this day
  • just like,,,,,he’s such a positive force it’s amazing
  • dances while brushing his teeth, dances while making eggs, dances while checking the weather, dances while locking up his door
  • you can usually find him with headphones in his ears and he rides his bike just about everywhere,,,,,,,and like
  • when it’s summer the tanktops come out and it’s a Blessing upon as all
  • he is the type to own like an inflatable pool that he drags out into courtyard when it’s super hot and at first it’s just for him but then all the kids come out and their parents and of course peoples dogs
  • and he probably just started a block party without even trying
  • likes to keep his place pretty clean, but he really likes the color red. like i see him having a lot of it in his home because it’s so loud and kinda sexy,,,,,,,,,,,,like him what no i didn’t say that
  • always has fresh fruits on his kitchen table because he’s conscious of what he eats as he’s an athletic person
  • and if like taehyung or jungkook spends the night he’s like “Eat breakfast. It is so important. The most important.”
  • drys his laundry by himself on his balcony but once he noticed his jeans went missing and he was like ????? there’s a thief in my house i need to find him
  • turns out they just fell down onto the floor below,,,,,,and he Overreacted LOL
  • cannot kill bugs. has to call over jin 
  • and hoseok is always helping people you know it’s in his nature like when he sees you one afternoon struggling with your groceries, he bikes over and is like “give me your bags!!” and piles them onto his handlebars and he’s like “hop on, ill give you a ride”
  • and at first you’re like hdglfvsd um how????? and he’s like “stand on the back of my bike” and you’re like “i think that’s too muc-”
  • but hoseok is shaking his head like “no no no i can handle it, come on”
  • and you try to balance yourself and he’s like “put your hands on my shoulders!!” and when you do you’re like oh,,,they’re big,,,,,
  • and he’s like “ok let’s go!”
  • and he manages to go really fast even with you and all your groceries 
  • and once you get to your building you get off and hoseok laughs a little and you’re like ?????
  • and he leans over and is like “the wind got to your hair!!!! let me fix it-”
  • and he gets so close that you can smell this kind of ,,,,,, slight cologne off of him and you’re like shouldn’t he be sweaty????? but he’s like fine 
  • and his fingers gently brush your hair back into place
  • and he’s like “we live across from each other, so let me carry your bags all the way!” and you’re like “hoseok, no you have to carry your bike let me-”
  • but he’s insistent and so are you
  • and you’re bickering back and forth over whose going to get a hand on the bags
  • and some old ladies pass by like “oh, young love always playfully getting on each others nerves”
  • and hoseok and you both stop like,,,,young,,,,,,,,,,,,,,love
  • but you’re just like UM,,,,,give me the bags
  • and hoseok is like “ill carry them. if you try to grab them, ill-”
  • and he pauses and you’re like ?????? you’ll what
  • and he’s like “i’ll,,,,,,,,,,,,,i’ll kiss you that’s what!”
  • and you’re like PFFT what are we in the 3rd grade and you reach over to get the bag, but hoseok is the faster person here and he puts his hand behind his back and tilts his face just in time to press his lips to your cheek
  • and when he pulls back you’re both wide eyed because oh my god ,,,,,he did it,,,,,,,,
  • and hoseok is screaming in his head like: OH MY GOD I DID IT
  • and you’re like “,,,,,,,,,,,,,,i,,,,,”
  • and he’s like “im so-”
  • but then you move forward and grab the bags from his startled hands and you’re like “got them!” and he’s like dhgkszds you,,,,,,,,,
  • and you’re like “well - aren’t you going to kiss me for real REAL this time??”
  • and hoseok is like “wELL Do YOU WANT ME TO?”
  • and you’re like “YOU SAID YOU WOULD”
  • like actual children you two
  • but hoseok finally is like ok. since you asked
  • and you feel his lips against yours,,,,,,,so suddenly that you almost lose a grip of yourself and fall backwards
  • and when he pulls away he grabs the bags back from your hands and he’s like “AHA”
  • and you’re like touching your lips and you’re like,,,,,,,,,
  • it’s silent for a bit but you’re like
  • “hoseok,,,,,,,,,” and he’s like “yes?” and you’re like “i have a feeling we’re gonna kiss again” and he’s like “don’t bother stealing the bags im really carrying them the whole way up-”
  • but you just shake your head and you’re like “no,,,,i mean we’ll kiss again after we get upstairs”
  • and hoseok gets a little red in the face, but boy the whole elevator ride up he’s practically jogging in place
  • because the minute you open the door the bags are forgotten in the hall and hoseok is like “really? do you want to do this?”
  • and his body is against yours, as you’re moving slowly toward your sofa and you’re like “yes, seriously just kiss me again!!!” 

southsidesserpentroyalty  asked:

your blog is so wonderful, and your so good at writting and i was wondering if you could an agnsty fic where Betty is going through domestic abuse at home (any kind will do) and jughead figures out somehow and gets angry and protective 💙💛

I’ll give it a try!

The pain was still there, throbbing and aching, her muscles tense as she shifted her heavy schoolbag onto her shoulders. It wasn’t broken, she was familiar with what a broken collarbone felt like and this was nothing more than a pulled muscle. Distinct memories flashed through Betty’s mind, her father flinging her across the room, a Pop and then blinding pain, waking up to a bruised cheek and dislocated shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Do you want me to hold your bag for you, I know you said you hurt it in cheerleading but whenever I pull a muscle in football I can hardly lift my duffle.” Archie spoke from her right, his hands ready to take the heavy book bag from her hands.

With a delicate shake of her head, Betty smiled weakly at the pain where her fathers ring had landed solidly on her cheek bone.

“I’m okay, I just have to walk it off.” She smiled gratefully.

They were on their way to pops, Veronica and Kevin were waiting for them but Betty had stayed late to practice her routine and Archie had after school practice. because of her injuries these last few weeks she was falling behind and Cheryl was not happy about it. She didn’t even want to think of what the redheaded she monster would say if she saw the bruising lining Betty’s collar bone.

Archie had just finished telling her all about his fathers progress when they arrived at Pops.

“That’s so great Arch.” Betty placed a reassuring hand to his shoulder and he beamed down at his best friend. Suddenly a familiar rumble broke Betty out of her and Archie’s personal bubble.
She knew that voice, she could point it out in even in the most crowded of rooms.

Jughead Jones, Betty’s ex boyfriend and Archie’s ex best friend, seated at the far back booth, Toni Topaz on his left and a large group of Serpents surrounding him.

“We can leave, we can get pizza and hang out in the basement. You don’t have to do this.” Archie clutched Betty’s arm. It was too late, sea blue eyes had already met meadow green and Betty was never one to back down from a challenge. Making direct eye contact with the newly changed young Serpent who she loved desperately, Betty looped her arm through Archie’s wincing slightly.

“It’s okay. I’m in desperate need of a milkshake.”

Veronica was standing by the time they made it to the booth
“Do you want me to kick her ass. I will, you know I will.”

Betty smiled weakly at the way Veronica was glaring at the pink haired girl. In actuality none of this was Toni’s fault, sure she had played a minor role in the demise of their relationship but she wasn’t the main reason.

“I love you Jughead! I’m trying so hard to accept all of this, your new life, your new family but it’s too hard!”

“Don’t you get it?! I don’t want you to accept it, this is where I belong! These are my people, they know me! They’re like me. I can’t deal with living two lives!”

“Then I’ll leave! I’ll go if that’s what you want!”

She had been bluffing, desperately begging for him to fight for her, it hadn’t worked out that way however

“Maybe thats for the best. Goodbye Betty.”

Maybe he had never loved her, maybe it was just words. He had Toni now and if she made him happy than Betty was happy. Well.. she could present to be happy.

“Earth to Betty, you’re milkshake is melting.” Kevin tugged gently on her sleeve, the light pink sweater riding up and revealing the fingershaped bruises. Kevin dropped her hand like it was on fire

“What are those?! Betty what..”

“It’s nothing!” The beautiful blonde quickly interjected, tugging her sleeves down. Perhaps she had spoken a bit too loudly, suddenly she felt eyes on her, looking up she saw Jughead staring intently at the table.

“Nothing?! Those are bruises B! And they’re shaped like hand prints… is that why you’ve got all of that makeup on your face..” Veronica reached over the tables, her napkin quickly swiping some of the foundation away from underneath her eye and revealing the purple and yellow bruise forming quickly, tears filled the raven haired girls eyes as she gasped, Archie stood abruptly, his knuckles clenching the side of the booth

“Someone’s beating on you!” He nearly screamed it, Betty gripped her bookbag tighter to her chest “and your shoulder! It’s not from cheerleading! Someone’s hurting you?! Who is it?!” Archie’s words were laced in venom, spiking Betty’s anxiety.

“It’s nothing! Leave it alone. I’ve gotta go. I… I have too…” Betty ran from the diner, avoiding the gazes and barely registering her friends calling after her.

She ran until her knees buckled and her shoes scuffed the grassy area, she was at the park when she finally collapsed. They all knew. Everyone knew. He was going to kill her, her father was going to kill her. Pulling her knees to her chest she buried her head in her legs, resting against the oak tree.
Moments later a figured dropped beside her.

“Archie, please. Just drop it okay.”

“A name. Give me a name. I’ll end him right now.”

Betty’s eyes snapped open, it wasn’t her redheaded best friend sitting beside her, but instead the dark haired boy she was in love with, the boy who had broken her heart.

“Leave me alone, Jughead.”

In a very uncharacteristic snort Jughead shifted even closer to her.

“No. absolutely not. I’m not all the way sane but I’m not crazy.”

Betty pulled her bag from the ground moving to stand up

“Fine. I’ll leave then.”

Jughead was faster, placing his hands softly on her shoulders and nudging her down, his foot kicking her backpack out of her reach.

“Hey!” Betty argued

Suddenly Jughead was nose to nose with Betty, there was something so deep and guttural in his eyes it physically made Betty shutter when his hands came up to stroke the deep bruise on her cheek

“Please.” He whispered “please tell me who’s doing this to you. Let me end this. I can’t..” the shaky boy choked “I can’t let this happen. I can’t believe I didn’t see this.”

Betty closed her eyes, tears pouring from underneath her long dark lashes
“You didn’t see me at all. You have a new family. A new life. Why do you even care?”

Jughead shook his head quickly dropping his forehead to hers

“You. You are my life Betty Cooper. I watch you everyday. I see you leaving school and I make sure you make it home okay. I’m at Pops just to see you…”

Betty cut him off
“Don’t kid yourself, you’re at Pops to be with your girlfriend.”

Jughead gently brought his hands up to cup Betty’s cheeks gently

“Toni is not my girlfriend, she’s a friend. I love you Betty Cooper. That’s how it is and that’s how it will always be. I watched you go home, I made sure you made it home okay, how could I have missed it, it’s no one in school. Archie would have known, and its…” suddenly a lightbulb went off in Jugheads mind, Betty hung her head in shame.

“It’s okay Juggie. He’s working on it, he drank a lot last night and he was angry. Mom left us, she took Polly. He’s.. he’s just angry.” She protested, her voice so defeated and weak it didn’t even sound like her own.

“You’re staying with me.” Jughead dug deep in his pockets handing Betty the keychain with the keys to his fathers trailer. “I’ll keep you safe, until we can figure this out, I need you near me. I.. I need you. I’ve failed enough. Please Betty. Let me do this.”

Jughead stared team into Jugheads eyes, his hands were bunched into fists as he plead with her.

Betty nodded slowly
“Okay.” She whispered

Jughead dropped a slow kiss to her forehead, shoulders stiffening when she flinched away.

He had hurt her, he was trying to protect her but in the end he had hurt her and things weren’t okay, they needed work, but he was willing to work harder than humanly possible if it meant getting Betty Cooper back.

When he came home that night, fists bloody and lip busted he found her sleeping on the couch, hotdog at her feet

Yeah, it was way more than worth it.

“What are those?” Eleven asked, looking at the bundle of dark red flowers in Jonathan’s hands. 

“These?” he held them out to let her look closer, “They’re roses. A special kind of flower for Valentine’s Day.” 

“Why are they special?” Eleven tentatively brushed a fingertip against the soft petals of one of the roses. 

“Because you get them for a girl you really like, the way I really like Nancy.”

“Love.” It was a statement, not a question. Eleven may not have been the best at speaking, but she was certainly good at feeling. Jonathan’s cheeks turned almost as red as the roses in his hand. 

“Yeah,” he ran his fingers through his messy hair, “I guess so.” 

“Pretty,” Eleven smiled. Jonathan reached into the bouquet and plucked one out, handing it to her. 

“Careful,” he said, “Sometimes the stems have thorns.” 

“But they’re not for me,” Eleven hesitated, her hand hovering over the stem.

“This one can be,” Jonathan assured her, “Like you said, they’re for girls you love. And I love you like you’re my little sister.”

An excerpt from a Valentine’s Day fic I wrote a while back. 

The Plan (Young James Potter x reader)

A/N: this is so cheesy but my brain was like “you need to write this. you nEED THIS” so i did it :))

word count: 1235 (aw hell yeah)
warnings: noooope

“I can’t believe you didn’t get your form signed, Y/N!!” James huffs as you both enter the common room.

Sirius and Remus follow behind you. “Wait, you didn’t get it signed?! The first Hogsmeade trip is tomorrow!” Sirius cries, a look of panic on his face.

“You can’t possibly expect us to go without you!!” Remus exclaims.

You sit down and bury your face in your hands. “I know. I’m sorry. Just- please don’t make me feel worse about this than I already do,” You sigh.

“Wait. Guys, there could be a way we could get her there.” James implies, a smirk of realization on his face.

You lift your head to look at him. “What d'you mean? Prongs, I didn’t get my form signed.”

“We’re the Marauders, for crying out loud!” He announces, his grin growing. Remus and Sirius give him a look. “Moony, the map, if you would.” He places the map in James’s open palm. “Right here. Secret passage. Leads to the basement of Honeydukes.” He points to an entrance. “You two,” He gestures to the other two boys. “will go with the rest of the group. Y/N and I will meet you at the candy shop at noon.” He turns back to you. “We’re gonna have to use my cloak.”

“You guys can just go without me. It’s-”

“No,” The three decide all at once.

You laugh, “Alright, then.”

So, the next morning, you wait for the boys in the common room. The two dogs come down first with smiles on their faces. “Prongs’ll be down in a minute. He’s just making the last few preparations,” Sirius smirks. Preparations? Aren’t you just sneaking out under the cloak? How many preparations are needed?

“We’ll see you there, Y/N.” Remus says and claps you on the shoulder. They leave. They’re acting a bit strange, aren’t they?

James comes down a few moments later, invisibility cloak in one hand, map in the other. “Well, c'mere.” He places the cloak over your shoulders and then shortly joins you underneath it.

“A bit snug, isn’t it?” you note.

He nods. “Yeah, I suppose so.” The two of you share a beat of pure quiet, just taking in the close proximity of each other’s bodies. You swear you can feel him breathing. “Right then,” he breaks the silence. “Let’s go.”

You and he exit the common room and head to the entrance to the secret passage. “Here, take my hand. It’s- er- pretty dark down there,” James says, gesturing down the dank, gloomy staircase. “Wouldn’t want you to trip or anything.”

“We have wands, Prongs. We literally have spells to light up the tunnel,” you chuckle.

He rolls his eyes. “Just- take my hand, Y/N.”

You bite your lip, holding back a grin, and nod. “Alright, alright.” Your fingers interlock with his and you can’t help but feel heat rush to your cheeks. “How long until we get there?” you ask after having already walked for a good ten minutes.

“Depends.” He shrugs vaguely, absentmindedly licking his lips and glancing around the tunnel. Your hand is sticky in his. You’re not quite sure if yours is the clammy one or his. You wait for him to go on but he doesn’t.

“Depends on what?” you muse.

He merely shrugs again. “I dunno; it usually takes around an hour.”

Your eyes widen. “An hour?! James, I’m cold! I can’t-”

“I’ll keep you warm, then!” He lets go of you hand and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you even closer to him. “We are not going to Hogsmeade without you, so suck it up.”

Okay, your heart is pounding. You clear your throat. “O-okay, then.” You have to force the words out your mouth.

He furrows his brows at you. “Are you alright?”

You nod. “Just cold, like I said.”

He gives you a look. “You’re doing the nervous thing.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you scoff. You know exactly what he’s talking about.

“The thing you do when you’re nervous. You tap your fingers on your leg. Incessantly, I might add,” he notes, poking your side playfully. You let out a giggle, not meaning to. “Now, what are you worried about? D'you think we’re gonna get caught or something?”

You exhale shakily and reply, “No. I’m not worried about anything.”

“Well then, why are you-?”

“Come off it, Prongs!” you snap. “I’m fine-”

So caught up in hiding your nerves, you aren’t watching where you’re going. You trip. Of course. You’ve stepped on the corner of the cloak and you’re about to fall.

“Y/N!” James luckily still had his arm locked around you. He pulls you back to keep you from face planting; only he pulled you back too far. You’re practically in a dip position.

You gasp so loudly. You’re catching your breath as the boy stares down at you. You feel him grip you tighter, draw you closer to him. Though it’s dark, he smiles down at you, and everything around you just seems so bright. In this moment, your body held up by his, nothing else matters. There is nothing else in the whole world except you and him. God, you wish that you could just tell him how much he means to you. You wish you could tell him how he’s all you think about, how he makes your legs turn to jelly when he says your name, how-

Your thoughts are interrupted by his lips pressed softly to yours. Slightly startled at first, you quickly assess the situation and find yourself kissing him back. It’s gentle and warm, just like how you’d imagined.

He pulls away, somewhat reluctantly. “I’m sorry- I’ve just been wanting to do that for so- you were just so- Are you alright?”

You nod, a grin playing on your lips. “I’m fine, now shush. You’re ruining it.”

“Sorry,” he laughs, leaning back down into you. His mouth meets yours again and you don’t think you’ve ever felt happier. There’s this fuzzy feeling pulsing through your entire being. You haven’t got a single care or worry. James Potter is holding you in his arms, kissing you. “Glad to know everything went according to plan,” he smirks against your lips.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you inquire. “What plan?”

“The plan the boys and I stayed up all night plotting out. The plan for me to finally get you alone to- well- to do this,” he answers. “Moony and Padfoot have had to listen to me ogle over you since fourth year,” he chuckles, standing you upright and brushing your hair behind your ear.

You’re practically speechless. “Fourth year,” you utter. “James, fourth year?”

He bites his lip. “Yeah..”

“Me too!” you giggle, overcome with giddiness.


“Yes!” You’re full on laughing now. “I’ve fancied you for so long! Why didn’t you ever say anything?!” You’ve buried your head in the crook of his neck now.

He just laughs right along with you, shaking his head. “We’re just a couple of idiots, aren’t we?”

“Think so,” you respond, grabbing his hand. “Okay, okay. We oughta get going now. Don’t wanna leave the other two waiting.”

“At this point, I couldn’t care less if they’re left waiting.” He kisses your cheek still beaming dopily. The two of you continue walking until you get to Honeydukes to tell the dogs the good news.

The Things She Carried

Part 4. Human After All

Dean x Reader

Masterpost with all the parts

Summary: Dean meets a huntress. Well, he would define her a robot. At least until he gets to know her…

Word Count: 1700+

Warnings: Potentially triggering for those who have lost their mom.

Tags: @mrswhozeewhatsis @daydreamingintheimpala @mysoul4dean @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @amoreagron @spnfangirl1965 @aristtewinchesterholmes @thisisthelilith @chelsea072498 @aiaranradnay @skymoonandstardust @apeshit7x @anokhi07 @tatortot2701 @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @mangasia @squirrellover1967@sharkeeshark @maui137 @electricbluecas @kazchester-fanfiction @gabavaldman @riversong-sam @lavieenlex @zanthiasplace @holywaterbucketchallenge @soullessbabee @loricwizardbluetoastedcake @extreme-supernatural-lover @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @barneybrigade @iliketowrite02 @itschelseabennett @mogaruke @stormisamystery

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Scott McCall x Reader

Warnings: Slight sexual content.
Word count: 1 307
A/N: Yet another idea made up by @pissheadofficial​, my spirit animal.
Man I have too many ideas for this, maybe I’ll write a sequel.

When people found out that your friends were werewolves, they became scared and learned to accept it, unlike you. Once Lydia had told you about her friends being supernatural creatures, including herself, you couldn’t stop thinking about how they made your heart flutter.

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anonymous asked:

Prompt: Huddling for warmth or they'll die, sexual tension results -I can never get enough

I love this trope a whole lot, anon. thanks for sending it in! hope you like it :)


Clarke lets her head fall back against the wall with a thump. It’s only been a couple of hours, and already her phone is dead, her ass is aching from the hard concrete floor, and she’s starting to shiver.

It wasn’t her fault she got locked in the lab. Really.

She’d insisted Monty go home when he offered to stay back with her, telling him she just had a few more things to finish up. She thinks better with a clean workstation, but she’s not in the habit of tidying as she goes, so every now and then she stays an extra twenty minutes after work to clean up. How could she have known the big storage room– kept at a specific, chilly temperature– locks from the outside after hours?

There was no way she could’ve anticipated it, though that doesn’t stop her from berating herself the longer she sits, cold and annoyed and bored.

She’s done everything she can think of to do. She tried to call for help, but found that she had no service. Tried banging on the doors, but that’s useless when nobody is around to hear her.

So she resigned herself to her fate– spending the night right where she sat. She played games on her phone until she realized she’d want it throughout the night to check the time. She organized the shelves, built a tower out of tissue boxes, and set out paper towels to sit on, protecting herself from the cold, cold floor. But now it’s eight thirty, far too early to go to sleep, and she’s out of ideas.

Another thump as her head falls back against the wall again. And another. It’s been two and a half hours, is she already going crazy?

All of a sudden, the door opens.

She squints against the brightness, momentarily blinded.

“Holy shit,” someone says, as she blinks furiously. “Are you okay?”

“Thank god,” she sighs, scrambling to her feet, her limbs stiff. When she looks up again, she can make out the figure of a security guard, just as he steps further in. Too far. “No, no, no–” she cries, rushing toward the door, but it’s too late. It shuts behind him with an ominous locking sound. She swears and beats on it with her palms, knowing it’s no use.

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Turn Around

gif belongs to of-badges-and-guns

Title: Turn Around

Pairing: Gibbs x Reader

Word Count: 1,021

Warnings: fluff

A/N: This was requested by an anon: Being friends with Abby and telling her about your crush on Gibbs not knowing that he is right behind you, please? ;) I hope you all enjoy! I love you all so much! <3

It was routine for you to visit Abby while Gibbs went to autopsy.  You had a Caf-Pow in your hand and somewhat of a smile on your face.  Usually you had a wide grin on your face as you greeted the forensic scientist, but something was on your mind today.   When you entered her lab, she could tell right away.  Since you and Abby were best friends, she could always tell when something was off about you.

Abby took the Caf-Pow politely from your hands just as she noticed the suddenly somber look you had on your face.  It was still early in the case, she would make time to talk to you after going over the evidence.

You quirked an eyebrow at Abby, noticing that she was going through her findings rather quickly.  It seemed like she wasn’t wasting any time.  Once she finished, she spun on her heels to face you.

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Requested by: Anon :)
Prompt: #24 “Make me.” (Reid x Reader)

Originally posted by toyboxboy

“I wait for a silent tear / I wait for things to disappear / Wait for the ground to stop moving underneath my only fear. / If I lose you, I don’t know.” – “Waiting game”, by Yellowcard

The ringing in your head was subsiding slightly, but your vision was still kind of blurry. You frantically looked around the barely-lit room for Spencer. He was to your right, trying to sit up too after being ambushed by the UnSub when you went to the guy’s house with the intention to interrogate him.

‘Spence? You okay?’ you asked as you stood up as well and walked towards him.

‘Yeah, you?’ he asked you once you helped him up.

‘Are we in the basement?’ your eyes, now that you were next to your teammate, started roaming around again. There was a flight of stairs, the only possible way out since the windows seemed to be blocked from the outside. No way of knowing whether it was still day or not.

‘I’d say so. Do you have your gun or phone?’ he asked you, and you checked your pockets and the empty holster on your hip.

‘He took everything. The only good thing is that we called Hotch the moment we arrived and heard some screaming, so it shouldn’t take long for the team to get here,’ you told him as you climbed on top of a box to try and pry one of windows open, with no success.

‘It’s pointless,’ a female voice said from a dark corner, and you both jumped.

‘Amanda?’ Spencer ventured out as the owner of the voice stepped forwards into the faint light coming from an old wall lamp at the bottom of the stairs. She had been kidnapped two weeks before on her way home from work, but the guy kept kidnapping and killing women while he held her captive.

‘Yes,’ she nodded but made no attempt to move any closer. ‘Who are you? He’s never brought a man before.’

‘We’re FBI agents. We’re here to save you,’ you tried to reassure her despite the panic you felt taking over every part of your body. ‘Are you hurt?’

‘Not really. I only have bruises now,’ you heard the shackles attached to one of her ankles as she moved to sit down again. You couldn’t help the emotions bubbling inside you and tried to swallow the lump in your throat.

Spencer noticed how your shoulders slumped and grabbed your hand. You looked over at him and were about to thank him when the door to the basement was thrown open and you heard the distinct sound of bullets being put into the magazine. Amanda cried out and retreated further into the shadows. You kept your gaze on Spencer’s face as you moved to the opposite side of the room so that it would be more difficult for him to keep an eye on all three individuals at once.

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I’m All Alone - Stiles Stilinski

Paring: Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, violence, smut and cussing 

Word Count: 2,510

Release Date: Mar 11, 2017

*I have to, even if it’s not a request. But If you wanna request one, I’m up for it!* - Admin

You had been transported to a new school, Beacon Hills High. But what you never expected was to be escorted out of school by your crush in the six months you had been here. He took you outside into the parking lot, then rushed you into a blue jeep. You sat in the passenger seat with confusion pushing over you, what the absolute hell was going on? You look over at the boy who had this terrified look across his face, his chocolate hair was damp and his eyes were wide, they too looked the same color as his hair.

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SPN FanFic

~Alone in the empty Bunker, your sadness deepens until a friend appears to help out…~

Reader, Castiel

1,679 Words

Warnings: Angst with a slightly fluffy finish. Depressed Reader, Comforting Cas.

A/N: This is my entry for Taylor’s 2K Challenge! @impalaimagining - congrats babe! Sorry it took so long… I struggled with this one. Thanks to @idreamofhazel, my sister wife and life coach for her help.

It felt like weeks since you last slept.

The bedroom ceiling offered little entertainment to your exhausted mind, but you stared at it anyway. The air was still, the room was silent. There was nothing but the sound of your breath moving slowly in and out. It passed in through your nose, filling each cell of your expanding lungs, and back out again, pushing into the void, affecting nothing. It was invisible and cold, just like you.

For the hundredth time you turned on your phone to check the time. Four a.m. You sighed and sat up, deciding to start the day. Moving was better than not, and busy hands were better than still. Maybe with something to do you could distract yourself, keep your mind away from the nothingness that had been creeping up on you lately.

You pulled on a sweater, tied your hair back, and slipped into your sneakers. You passed the mirror without a glance. There was no reason to look, you knew you were a mess. But if no one else cared, why should you? That’s when you knew it was bad. You could pinpoint the moment it all began falling part, truly falling; it was when you stopped looking at yourself.

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This is Where I Lose You~One-shot (Draco Malfoy)

A/N: Draco Malfoy is one of my fucking favourite characters of all time and I’m trying to figure out why I haven’t written for him before ‘cause seriously I love him so much 

Request: @tayrae515:  Hi love, Could you do one where you and Draco had a thing but you sided with Harry and when he gets picked up and taken to the Malfoy mansion like in deathly hollows part one it’s you who gets mudblood written in your skin instead of Hermonie and Draco puts a stop to it and saves all of you because he loves you? Bad description lol but I hope you get my idea! :) thank you! ♥️♥️

Pairing: Draco x reader

Word Count: 2934

Warnings: TORTURE SCENE, BLOOD, Bellatrix being the awful human being she is, STABBING, CUTTING, SCREAMING, MORE BLOOD, sadness, swearing


Originally posted by hogwartsthings13

Once upon a time, I had been the girlfriend of a one Draco Malfoy. We had been happy. Really happy. Of course, deep down I knew that it wouldn’t last. We were teenagers in the middle of world approaching a war and we were clearly on different sides. We never acknowledged it, but we both knew it. I wasn’t oblivious to Draco’s family history. He was related to people that were known death eaters and his father probably was one. He knew I didn’t share his opinions on muggle born witches and wizards, he knew I was close friends with Harry Potter and a number of other Gryffindors that he didn’t approve of, but we ignored all of it. A voice in the back of my mind told me that the heartbreak would only be worse the longer we stayed together.

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My Savior (Daveed Diggs x Reader)

Originally posted by daveeddiggsit

Pairing: SSA!Daveed Diggs x SSA!Reader

Requested?: Day Four of my write-a-thon! 

Prompt: You get kidnapped by the unsub. 

Words: 2800+

Warnings: Based off of Criminal Minds, Kidnapping, Mentions of Murder and Sexual Assult/Abuse, Angst, Fluff



This unsub was not who you were expecting.

You were a Supervisory Special Agent for the FBI. You were part of Chris Jackson’s team in New York City, being a transfer from Aaron Hotchner’s team in Quantico. You were in your early thirties and have been in the Behavioral Analysis Unit since you were twenty. You had a Ph.D. in Psychology and a Bachelor’s in sociology. Add ten years of self-defense training and knowledge on firearms and explosives, and you got yourself an agent fit for the BAU. You started off in Quantico, where you went through the FBI Academy and graduated the top of your class alongside Spencer Reid, one of your good friends from Hotchner’s team. It was actually Reid who convinced you to move back to your hometown and join Chris’ team.

There were big differences between the Quantico team and the New York team.

Firstly, the New York team was bigger than the Quantico team.

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Soulmate AU

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader (Supernatural)

Prompt: Soulmate AU where you get a book at birth in which each page is a day and each chapter is a year. Each day, you get some information about their day, some things they said, some things they felt, some activities. Also, the last thing in the book will be the first words they said to you. 

Requested?: Yes, by me. 

Word count: 4,500 (Damn, that’s long)

(A/N):  this is not my idea. Normally I write down from who I stole it, but I forgot. So if you know who made this idea, let me know! & I am obsessed with Supernatural and I love Dean! SO, that’s why! Heehee;)

Originally posted by zest-wincest

Dean Winchester had always loved reading his book. The book about his soulmate, the only connection between them. At young age, he was confused as why her parents were so strict. She needed to run, and swim and at age seven, his soulmate got a knife for her birthday. But what was weird was that she didn’t seem to mind. Dean soon understood she was a hunter, just like he was becoming. That didn’t scare him. He knew she, as his soulmate, would be able to handle herself. 

When Dean got older, he loved reading about her even more. She was really smart and good, she worked mostly alone and loved llama’s, which he thought was pretty amusing. He liked how she always was pretty happy, no matter what her injuries or the job was. The book said her smile was one to die for. He liked how she could flirt with boys, just for information. He liked how she was funny and drank tea with alcohol and drank tequila after each job. He fell in love with her, slowly and not because of her looks. He didn’t know how she would look. He hoped she was pretty. 

Dean and Sam were at a motel, there was a job close by, but they wouldn’t make it there until tomorrow. Sam was in the shower, so Dean had a little bit time for him alone. Out of his bag, he took the already large book. Each chapter represented a year, and he was glad the book was so big, meaning she was still alive. The last few days, he hadn’t been able to read the book because of his research and the job. He had to catch up on a few days. 

Walking around, driving in a car. 

“I like chicken nuggets, but tart is better.” 

She winked at the guy, whose mouth hung open. He wasn’t used to girl that pretty hitting on him.

Her eyes  were tired, but this night would be sleepless, she would have to do research if she wanted to finish the job tomorrow. 

Dean grinned, this was how he knew her, totally random, yet very determent. She liked to get a move on things. 

Her boots were tight, she had checked that tree times already. Her dark shirt and pants were tight and easy to fight in. She took her bag and jumped in the jeep. The house was quiet, but she knew that the ghost of Julie could show up at any moment. Pain took over as something hit her in the back of her head. With a groan, she turned around, shotgun ready. She missed. She really needed to find that stupid box. 

After what seemed like hours of reading, Dean relaxed. She was safe, mildly hurt but safe. That was the one thing he always hoped. That she would be alive, breathing and mentally healthy. He knew how it was to lose someone you care about, and he couldn’t lose her, not before they had met. Dean wasn’t really afraid she would die on a job, she had proven how good she was plenty of times. 

“Reading about your soulmate?” Sam spoke and Dean looked up, Sams tone was slightly teasingly. 

“So what? Everyone does.” Dean stated, calm, unamused. He saw Sam grin slightly.

Y/n didn’t like reading about her soulmate. She had read too much over the pain he had been through. She had read about his mothers death, and her parents had explained her everything. They didn’t know what had killed her, but it was something supernatural. She had read about how his father wasn’t really a good father. She had read about him being hungry a lot because he gave his little brother more food. That broke her heart. She wasn’t one to pity, and she told herself she didn’t pity him, but she wished he had had a better childhood, at least. 

She walked out of the warm shower, her hair falling damp over her shoulders when she sat on her bed. Y/n really wanted to read her book, she always hoped she would read he was happy that day, even when he was happy for weeks, she would still hope he was happy. She hesitated. She always did. Swallowing hard, she took the book from the nightstand. The book felt heavy on her lap. 

He and his brother sneaked into the dark building, under the police tape to the house. His brother was first. The remains of the ghost where in the house, they only needed to find it before the ghost found them. They started from the basement, they had no clue where the body could be. He screamed, yelled for his brother to duck before firing. The ghost vanished, but they knew he would come back. He said that his brother needed to search upstairs, they didn’t have much time. He went downstairs, stairs made a lot of noise. His flashlight gave him some light. He opened doors, cabins, closets. But he noticed the newer wall. The bricks still had color. he yelled for his brother, not wanting him to be in more danger then needed. His brother stumbled it, gun ready. Together they broke down the wall, and an old corpse rolled out. Salt and burn. This job was done. 

Y/n wanted more information, she always wanted more. But she knew that she wouldn’t. She hoped they would meet soon. Y/n didn’t want to go to sleep, even though she was tired. So, longing for her soulmate, she read her favorite parts again. The parts where he was happy, where he had a reason to smile. That always made her heart warm. 

Dean and Sam Winchester sat in a diner, talking about the job. 

“So, you think it is a vengeful spirit?” Sam asked Dean, leaning in over the table. 

“Yes, I think it is. I mean, people disappearing near a forest? I checked it, and each year, in one week, this week, every night at least one person disappears. And that for seven days.” Dean took a sip out his cup. 

“Okay, this is a job. But where do we start?” Dean wanted to answer that question, but then something caught his eye. No, a someone. A young woman walked past. Her hair fell over shoulders, decoration her leather jacket. She had a very tight pair of jeans on, and high heels. Dean didn’t notice she stood slightly unstable on the shoes. When she stopped by a table, Dean saw her red lips, flirty smile and low cut tank top. The man she talked to asked her to sit, and Dean couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. Even though there was obvious flirting, she didn’t seen interested. He wondered why she sat by him. 

“Dean,” Sam started. “are you even listening?” Dean teared his eyes away from the beautiful woman. 

“Yes, of course I was.” 


Only a few hours had passed, Dean would talk to a few people, and Sam, Sam would do some more research. Dean chose a house which was very close to the forest. It if was a spirit, then maybe they would know. He knocked on the door and was surprised when he saw the man the beautiful woman had flirted with. 

“Hello, I’m from the police. I wanted to ask you a few questions about last night disappearance.” Dean smiled and the man, a slight hint of envy in his eyes. 

“Come in.” He said and stepped aside. Inside the house it was cold, most things were dark and there were no flowers. he wouldn’t be surprised if he smelled death. 

Once Dean sat, he started to ask questions. until he couldn’t help it anymore. 

“So, you home alone? I mean if your girlfriend is here I would like to ask her a few questions.” Dean asked casually. 

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” the man almost snapped. 

“Easy there, I just thought you had because you are so gentle.” Dean gave the man a sarcastic smile, he had everything he needed. 

Keep reading

His Prince Will Come

Pain. Pain. Pound. Pound.

The last week has been pure pain for Sherlock Holmes. He has never felt such a complex mix of emotions at once: empty loneliness, burning anger, and, most of all, awful, frantic worrying. Every night has been sleepless; his brain is tired, overworked, for the first time in his life. The puzzle they gave him had been brutal, and it did not help that he had to solve it on his own. 

They took John

This was all a cruel game, a way to get Sherlock out of their hair for awhile, so they could enjoy themselves by going on more killing sprees. This was a team of England’s most wanted; he’s been tracking them for awhile now at the request of the government. They kill for no purpose except to get joy out of it, and they’ve found his weakness. He thought he’d got them, but now they have his weakness.

I’m coming for you, John.

He’d ignored five new murders during the past week, just to keep working, he had to keep working. He’d traveled across the country to remote locations, where the smallest hints were hidden, teasing him, telling him he’d never succeed. Yet he did, just in time. He drove at ninety miles per hour the whole way, breathing hard. He has five minutes left to get to him. He’s going to make it. He’s got to, or he’ll never forgive himself.

Keep running. Keep running. The stone hallway seems never-ending, but he can make out a doorway ahead. Almost there. It was genius, this plan. An old tunnel, entrance hidden inside the basement of a tiny church in a town people barely know exists. At the dead of night, I make my move. The clues left for him to figure out the location were, minuscule the likes of which he’d never seen: a strangely shaped nick in a wooden wall, a compartment inside the metal leg of a chair… yet somehow he managed to figure it out. And now, he must get to John. There are so many things he needs to tell him. He has to get to him. He has to find him.

Pound, pound, goes his heart, the heart he never knew he had until just a few years ago. Pain, whispers his brain; all his muscles are aching yet he doesn’t care. I’m coming, John. I’m coming. I’m-

He’s almost to the lit doorway. Almost to John. John, John, I -

The light dims, almost to black.


A shot. The thud of a body. 



Please don’t be you.

Can’t be you. No. I won’t allow it.



Please. John.

“Too late, Holmes.”

Who is it? The leader of the pack? A forgotten enemy? He can’t register the voice. He can’t even think.

“You tried your best, I suppose, and failed to save five people in the process. Oh, wait– six.”

N o .

N  o  .

J -

J   o  h n

His legs fall out from under him. His head hits the freezing stone floor and he doesn’t bother to try and stand again.

There’s no point.

A cold feeling on the back of his head. The click of a loaded gun.

“And now, it’s your turn. You cannot stop us, Sherlock Holmes. You failed. You couldn’t save your beloved friend, you couldn’t save five innocent people, and you can’t save yourself. 

“The game is over, Holmes. Goodbye, and good riddance.”

Time slows. Everything freezes.

He closes his eyes. It’s over. He can’t try anymore, not without John. And he knows it’s John, lying there motionless. He can tell from the silhouette, the familiar aura of homeliness and warmth and pleasure and… love? always radiating from his faithful army doctor, the one who he can’t live without. He’s finished. He’s never felt so hopeless, so willing to be gone from this world just so he may have a chance of seeing John again somewhere, sometime, even though heaven is not something he’s ever believed in. But then again, John is heaven. 

And… he can’t let heaven go.

No. No.


N O ! !

An inhuman, guttural scream fills the air, and he doesn’t realise for a moment that it is coming from his own throat. Adrenaline rushes through him, and he leaps to his feet, a strange buzzing in his ears seeming to whisper John. John. John. over and over again. Faster than ever thought humanly possible, he ducks, and he can feel the whoosh of the bullet just missing his head by inches. His hand closes around the small knife he’d hidden in his pant leg before he left (always extra protection for his John, always.) and manages to stab his would-be-executioner in the thigh, causing them to drop their gun, which he quickly snatches up. For John. Three masked men burst into the room, and Sherlock quickly locates the source of dim light– a bulb hanging from a string just through the doorway– and, squeezing his eyes shut, shoots at it. 

The sound of glass breaking echoes in the hall, the room goes dark, and he exhales a sigh of relief. But he’s not done yet. He drops to the ground before the men’s eyes adjust to the dark and crawls on hands and knees, smashing into the first man’s legs, knocking him to the floor. One man gets ahold of his gun and shoots; the bullet whizzes past Sherlock’s shoulder and before the man gets another chance to attack, Sherlock head-butts his stomach, causing him to fall into the third man, then takes his gun and smashes each of the men across the face, one, two, three times, until they pass out. Just like hitting those dead bodies with the riding crop at the mortuary, but this time he’s doing it for John. John. John. JOHN. There’s a silencer on one of their guns, and he picks it up and shoots each of the men, without even considering it. John.

He runs to him, kneels down beside him, takes his limp hand. Blood oozes from his stomach, and he isn’t moving. Please…don’t be dead. 

A pulse. Shallow, slow breathing. But he’s alive. Unresponsive, but alive.
Sherlock breathes another sigh of relief, this one not just of relief but of thanks to whatever supernatural being may be existing up there in the night sky. Alive, he’s breathing, let him stay alive. The bullet doesn’t look like it was shot from close range so it couldn’t have gone in too far, if he can get John to a hospital, or a doctor, in time…

A thud sounds not too far away, then the stomping of booted feet. They’ll have noticed by now that something went wrong. He needs to get away, get John somewhere safe. He heaves the body of the one he loves most over his shoulder. John is slightly heavy, but  he can manage. He needs to manage. He begins to run.

“He’s not fuckin’ dead?! Get him then!” comes the cry. The shouts of more men come from behind him, yet Sherlock keeps running, running towards the steps that lead back up to the church basement. He almost trips, but catches himself, keeping one hand over John’s wound all the whole, feeling the blood dripping through his fingers. His heart is thudding inside him, threatening to explode, and a single verse of an old song he once knew floats through his mind as he emerges from the basement…

Daddy, please don’t, it wasn’t his fault,
He means so much to me,
Daddy, please don’t, we’re gonna get married,
Just you wait and see…
Just you wait and see.

Surely they have backup coming, his chance of escaping is slim, growing smaller by the minute. He ducks around a corner, into another room, the weight of John bearing down on him, reminding him that John’s life is his responsibility now, and he’s got to think, think, God, Sherlock, you’ve got to-

The room is a kitchen. There’s a stove. And he can just make out a cloth on the counter. John still slung over his shoulder, he fumbles through the dark room until he finds the dial that turns the stove on, and a small blue flame flickers. 

The men thunder past, thinking he’s going towards the front door; he only has a minute until they realise he’s still in the building. He grabs the cloth with his free hand, puts the edge of it to the flame, and oh, thank the heavens, it catches, and he dashes out of the room and crouches by the corner; the men are arguing with each other in the main room, and the walls and floor are made of polished wood, and the flame is quickly spreading over the cloth and he lifts his aching arm and tosses it–

It hits the floor, and in moments, it catches and starts spreading; the men turn in alarm and yell at each other to call more backup, and this is Sherlock’s chance. He bursts out of his hiding place and dashes for the door, and they see him and grab their guns but they’re too late, he’s out the door and into the night and the fire has enveloped almost a whole wall and part of the floor and blocks their way to the door.

He runs like he’s never run before, clenching John’s shirt and trying to keep the blood in; he’s lost a lot and there’s not much time.

Just you wait and see…
Run, Joey, run, Joey, run, Joey, RUN!

The dirt road is long, but he keeps running, even though he can’t feel his legs and his chest is aching and his vision is blurred, and he can hear his own blood pounding in his ears, and all he can think is John, John, John, John, I need you, I love you, John, and I’ve never told you, I need to tell you–

There’s a car, turning into a lone driveway yards ahead of him. He runs even faster, screaming hoarsely, “My friend is hurt! Please! Help us, help him–”

Sherlock Holmes has never asked for help, let alone yelled for it. 

“Help us, please! Sir!” The man is getting out of the car, he’s in his fifties by the looks of it and not very wealthy (his house is tiny and falling apart), he turns with surprise and sees Sherlock coming towards him, John’s blood dripping from his hands, and he immediately runs to their aid–

“There’s a woman who’s a nurse a few streets away from here, get him in the car!” 

And they arrive at the house and the woman frets over John and carries him to a bed upstairs and the man tries to comfort Sherlock but he’s in shock and he’s crying, sobbing, tears falling from his blue eyes like gems, rare gems that no one ever sees unless they’re especially close to Sherlock, and he can’t stop murmuring, “John. John. John. John. John.”

He’s lost so much blood, they tell him, that they’re going to bring him to a hospital right away, he’s in critical condition. And he sobs harder, and he rides in the car with John’s head in his lap, cradling the doctor and smoothing his hair and adjusting the bandage over his wound and covering him in a blanket so wherever his mind is during all of this, he won’t be cold. He cries harder than ever as they take him from the car and whisk him away, leaving this man who could be broken forever if they don’t do their job, leaving him behind in the waiting room, head in hands, shaking all over.


★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Suddenly, John’s thoughts return.

And his first thought is, Sherlock. They shot him, didn’t they. They shot me. Where am I where is Sherlock oh god oh-

“Mr. Watson, it’s alright. You’re safe. You’re okay.”

The IV tube in his arm aches. His chest aches. He tries to move, but gentle hands push him back into the bed. His vision’s adjusting, and there are doctors, dressed in white, and there’s one not dressed in white, but wait, that’s…


Tears fill both sets of eyes, and Sherlock smiles, and John’s heart, weak as it feels, leaps in his chest, and he grins back.

“How long… how long have I been…”

“In a coma? Nine days, eight hours, and twenty-six minutes, but who’s counting?” Sherlock cannot suppress his smile. He’s so thankful that John is okay. He’s been here the entirety of those nine days and eight hours, sleeping next to John in a chair, tucking him in when he looks cold and adjusting his pillows just right, lifting him into the bed after the blood transfusion and the surgery to remove the bullet, helping to clean the bullet wound when needed, never letting go of his hand, no matter what. And he’s still holding it now, only now, John is able tighten his grip on the detective’s hand in return.

“What happened?”

“I’ll tell you what happened,” says the main doctor, a strict but kind woman named Muriel, bringing a cup of water to John’s lips and helping him drink. “This man,” she continues, gesturing to Sherlock, “set a church on fire, escaped a horde of gun-toting killers, finally rid the world of two of Scotland Yard’s most wanted, and got you here to this hospital, carrying you all the way. He hasn’t left this room since you got here, and I had to force him to eat and drink something every day. He won’t talk to me about his relationship with you, but it’s quite obvious he cares about you more than he cares about himself, and you’re very lucky to have him.” 

It takes John a minute to register this information. He remembers getting kidnapped, having to sit in a dark, cold room while people taunted and sometimes hurt him, having to eat and drink nothing but hard bread and soiled milk, and then… he’d been shot, and there was pain, and then nothing. But Sherlock. Coming to rescue him when he thought his situation was hopeless. Setting a building on fire for him, killing for him, risking his life for him. Oh, Sherlock. He’s always loved his detective, but now he loves him more than ever.

“H…how can I thank you, Sherlock?” His eyes fill with tears. Happy ones.

Sherlock squeezes John’s hand. “You can’t. Don’t bother.”

John squeezes back, weakly, and smiles. “You know that song from Snow White, the one where she’s singing about how someday her prince will come and-”

“Yes,” Sherlock interrupts, smirking. “And please don’t ask about my secret enthusiasm for Disney movies. ‘Someday My Prince Will Come,’ is it?”

“Mhmm,” John replies. “I won’t ask. But, Sherlock… my prince. Uhm. He’s… he’s come.”

Sherlock stares at John, and a tear slips down his cheek, his grin returning, bigger than ever. “And my prince is holding my hand, and I believe it’s the best thing I’ve ever felt.”

The nurse returns to the room with a blanket. “He needs some rest, and as soon as we can, we’re going to start him on physical therapy.” She hands Sherlock the blanket, and he gently covers John with it. “Are you going to stay here, Mr. Holmes?”

“Of course,” Sherlock answers, and gripping John’s hand tighter, leans down and kisses him softly on the forehead. As his lips brush John’s skin, he whispers so that only John can hear:

“I love you.”

And before John falls into a peaceful sleep, he smiles, closes his eyes, and murmurs, “I love you, too.”

★ ★ ★ ★ ★


John adjusts his coat on the back of his chair and picks up the menu, only to put it back down when he feels Sherlock’s eyes on him.

“I know I’m a wonderful sight, but do you have to stare like that? People are going to-”

“Oh, shut up.” Sherlock leans across the table and gives him a gentle kiss, to which John doesn’t complain. “Everyone’s guessed it from the start. Does it really matter anymore?”

John snickers. “I suppose not,” he replies, and then folds his hands neatly on the table and stares back at Sherlock. They both smile and continue to look into each other’s eyes.

“Ah, my favourite couple! Glad to see you’re doing better, Johnny boy. Up and walking again! What can I get you tonight? On the house, as always… oh, and an extra dessert for you two as well!” Angelo gives Sherlock a wink, which confuses John, but Sherlock grins secretively and winks back. They order their food, and converse as they eat. This is Sherlock’s most favourite thing; to look into John’s eyes when he speaks and see the pure emotion in them, the happiness and affection that he now knows how to show. After they finish (and enjoy their free dessert, slices of five-layer chocolate fudge cake), Angelo returns to the table with a small pink candle in the shape of a heart.

“Angelo, we’re about to leave,” John says, a puzzled look on his face as he stands up. “Why are you-”

“John, sit down,” Sherlock says in a serious tone, and Angelo smirks and whizzes away into the kitchen. John, with no idea what is going on, hesitates, then sits back down.

“You do remember our first time here?” Sherlock asks, combing a hand through his hair, which he managed to straighten a little earlier tonight. “The first time you tried to subtly ask about my sexuality, and we stared at each other for a total of at least five minutes–”

“Yes, I remember,” John interrupts. “Of course I remember. And it was just about five and a half minutes total, not that I was counting. What are you getting at?” He raises a suspicious eyebrow.

“This is where it all started. This is where my feelings for you really got the better of me,” Sherlock explains, fiddling with his sleeve. “This is where I realised, I’ve never felt this way about someone I’ve just met. This man could be my friend, my flatmate, my partner, but there’s something else about him. He’s different, and he makes me feel…happy. Not alone.” He clears his throat. “This is where our first official date was, after you kissed me that one time in the apartment where I was trying to teach you to play ‘Ode to Joy’ on the violin. This is where we came after that particularly exhausting case in which you had to kill a man, and you broke down and I comforted you. This is where it began, and where it’s going to begin again. I hope.” 

John looks at him curiously. What was Sherlock talking about?

“You asked me, John, how you could thank me for saving your life. There is really only one way you can thank me.” Sherlock reaches into his pocket and produces a small blue velvet box, and stands, walking slowly over to John’s side of the table, not breaking eye contact with him for a moment. “I cannot imagine a life without you. I figured that out when I saw you get shot. I want you here, with me, always. I won’t let you come to any harm, ever again. I love you more than anything in this universe, John Hamish Watson, and it would make me the happiest sociopath to ever exist if you would promise to stay with me forever.” 

John’s eyes widen, and he gasps as Sherlock kneels before him, opening the box to reveal a breathtakingly beautiful ring made of gold, with two sapphires and a diamond set into the metal.

“Will you marry me?”

John Watson has been through a lot, and he has felt love for many people, and been in happy situations many times, despite being an army veteran and seeing the harm humans are capable of causing to their own kind. But he has never felt this extent of absolute joy and pure, blooming love that he feels now, as he sees his prince looking at him expectantly, holding their future in his hands. And so, with tears in his eyes and a genuinely devoted smile on his face, he replies, “Yes.”

And Sherlock sweeps him out of his chair and holds him tightly to his chest, making sure not to touch the wound that is almost healed but still hurts to the touch sometimes, and slips the ring onto John’s finger, and John reaches up and kisses his husband more passionately than ever before, and Angelo grins as he begins to play “How Deep Is Your Love” over the radio, and people at nearby tables clap, and somewhere over on Baker Street Mrs. Hudson feels a change, a good change, and chuckles to herself as she boils tea, and Mycroft Holmes reveals a rare smile as he remembers what his brother told him was going to happen tonight, and high up in the sky, the moon glows a little brighter, and the stars twinkle, showing their happiness for this couple who will love each other forever, no matter what happens, and who are now finally united for the rest of their lives.

How deep is your love, how deep is your love
How deep is your love?
I really mean to learn
‘Cause we’re living in a world of fools
Breaking us down when they all should let us be
We belong to you and me

“I love you, Sherlock.”

“I love you too, John.”

And, yet again, it begins.


Yeah, so I first got the idea for this when I was listening to “Run Joey Run” by David Geddes in the car on the way to the beach, and it turned into this whole long thing, so I figured I’d post it here. I hope you like it! :) I love writing stories about Sherlock and John; it’s a lot of fun. Hopefully I’ll be able to post more writing more often. I loved how this one turned out.

(Shoutout to @currently-in-my-mind-palace ! Her blog is wonderful and she writes excellent fanfics! Give her a follow!)

The Joker x Reader - “The Joker’s Widow”

The last four weeks have been living hell: you feel so empty and hollow, nothing makes sense without him. Most of the time you have the unnerving sensation your thoughts are not your own. You wish you would have died with him that night, at least you wouldn’t have to go through this excruciating agony.

The knock in the door makes Damon left his head from all the building plans, maps and schedules he has scattered all over his desk.

“Come in!” he mumbles, trying to pile up everything into an organized chaos.

His henchman comes in, quite agitated, attempting to keep it together:

“Sir, The Joker’s widow is here.”
“Fuck, don’t make her wait!” he snaps at the guy, getting up from his chair. “She doesn’t like to wait! You know her temper. And don’t call her that again; if she hears you you’re dead!”

“Yes, sir. I think you should know she has about 100 men with her and a lot of vans outside. I stopped counting at 30; there’s a whole army in our underground parking.”

“Shit…” Damon sighs, keeping his cool. “That’s good though, it will come in handy. Let her in,” he commands, impatient.

After a few seconds he sees Frost opening the door for you and you walk in slowly, still limping a bit from the gunshot wound you got a month ago. Your eyes are swollen and he can tell you’ve been crying; that’s only that much makeup can cover. You’re dressed up in black and he never saw you wearing the color before. It makes him uneasy. The sleeveless tight leather suit matches your black stilettos and you have even more Joker themed tattoos on your arms (and even probably all over) than he remembers. Your half neon green half bright purple hair is parted in the middle and braided, just like the Clown Prince of Crime liked it.

“Mrs. J, you’re here!” he cracks a smile, walking towards you. “Please, take a seat.” Damon pulls a chair for you, trying to be as pleasant as possible. He knows better than not to piss you off, especially in the state you’re in.

“I’ll stand!” you utter, staring him down with your icy green eyes that send shivers down his spine.

“As you wish,” he nervously adjusts his tie, waiting for you to speak.

“I want my husband’s body, you told me you know where it is,” you raise your voice, feeling you are on a verge of a nervous breakdown.

“Van Criss Laboratories,” he calmly answers. ”The new location, well-guarded. My inside person tells me it won’t be easy to get in,” Damon spits out, aware nothing will stop you.

“I wouldn’t worry about it. I hired a lot of mercenaries, plus my men. I can hire more, money is not an issue, you know I have the resources. Just tell me a number, don’t be shy,” you sarcastically grin and he knows that’s not a good sign.

“If you want things to go smooth, you probably need 50 more men,” he decides to be honest since he doesn’t have a choice.

“Done!” you are fast in replying. “It can be done by tonight so our plan won’t change. I will retrieve his body even if I have to kill everyone in that building and level it to the ground, do you hear me?” you enunciate with such determination it makes him weak in the knees.

“Of course, Mrs. J. My informant tells me Mister Joker’s…e-hem (he coughs, having the feeling he’s walking on egg shells) … remains are on B-Level, coolant number 682.”

Damon hears you gulp and notices your eyes getting teary, but you are not here to discuss your sorrow; this is important business. You regain your composure and lift your chin up, barking at him:

“Show me on the map!”


It’s been a month since you lost J. You barely sleep 2-3 hours a night; you can’t rest, eat or function without him. Every time you close your eyes you see The Joker and hear his husky voice in your ear:

“Wake up, baby!”… … … …”Hey, Y/N, wake up, wake up, hey!” Then you realize it’s Frost shaking you so you snap out of your reoccurring nightmare. “Wake up, you’re screaming!” He always lifts you up from your pillow, holding you tight while you’re panicking, your heart racing to the point of fainting. Jonny tries his best to comfort you but he knows it’s no use. You just keep on repeating the same words, uncontrollably sobbing on his shoulder:

“Where’s J, Frosty?… Where’s J?…”

“He’s not here, Y/N…ssstttt, go back to sleep…he’s…not here…”

“Where’s my husband? Where’s J?” you clench to his shirt, suffocating him with your embrace and that’s when he would reach for your sleeping pills and try to give you one:
“It’s OK, Y/N, I got you; here, take this.” But you don’t want to take it; you know that if you do that you will fall asleep and see his death over and over again.

**You, J and Frost were caught in the ambush and tried to get away with no success. When the bullets started flying from all sides, you abandoned the car and made a run for the river. A bullet hit you in the thigh and you collapsed on your knees. Frost rushed to help you and you turned your head to see where The Joker was.

He almost got to you when several bullets hit his body and he fell to the ground. You struggled to crawl back to him but Frost pulled you away, wanting to save at least one. After all, it was his job to protect The Queen and King of Gotham. You barely escaped the carnage and you will never forget how you kept on looking back while fighting Jonny, yelling at him to let you go and saw The Joker trying to get up. More bullets shrieked by your head and he went down. He didn’t move anymore. **

The last four weeks have been living hell: you feel so empty and hollow, nothing makes sense without him. Most of the time you have the unnerving sensation your thoughts are not your own. You wish you would have died with him that night, at least you wouldn’t have to go through this excruciating agony.

“Y/N, we’re here!” Frost gets you out of your numbness, pointing towards the building. “We’re going to clear the path, wait here and you can come once it’s safe, OK?”

“U-hum,” you agree, absent minded. When Jonny gets out of the van you finally muster the strength to mumble:

“Be careful.”

You definitely spared no expense in putting together the team to help you get inside Van Criss Laboratories in order to recover The Joker’s body. All these mercenaries you hired better prove their worth: you won’t leave without your husband even if it’s the last thing you will ever do.

You emotionlessly watch the gunshots lighting up the night, explosions and screams echoing in the darkness. After about an hour you get a text from Frost:

“It’s safe, we cleared it. Come in.”

You drive yourself to the structure and your hands get shaky once you step inside. All the henchmen step aside to let you pass as your high hills click on the long corridors. So much blood on the floor and walls, you definitely lost some people also, but it doesn’t make you hesitate.

Frost waits for you at the elevator.

“We found the room,” he announces, carefully watching as you lean on his arm, suddenly lightheaded. “Are you all right?” he inquires, worried to see you like this.

“I’m fine,” you pant, trying not to show any emotions but it’s impossible to do so. You wipe your face with your hands, quietly crying:

“Is he…in there?”

“He is,” Jonny answers, squeezing you closer to him.

“Thank God,” you whimper, relieved and in the same time heartbroken because there is no turning back. It’s so…definitive.

“We already took him out of the cooler,” he lets you know since he wants you prepared for the encounter. But how could you ever be prepared for something like this? “We can’t linger, we triggered the alarms. This place is in the middle of nowhere; still, it shouldn’t take them too long to get here. We need to move out soon.”

“I know…” you deeply exhale when the elevator’s door open in front of you for B-Level. All your men avoid looking at you as follow Jonny, dragging your feet behind him.

When he stops in front of the room, your heart stops too. He signals everyone to clear the perimeter and you stand there, dazed:

“Is that…my husband?” you ask even if you don’t have to.

You see J in the middle of the chamber, already on the stretcher, his pale body covered with a white sheet from waist down. Frost closes the door behind you and steps away to give you privacy. He’s the only one left on the hallway. Not hearing a single sound worries him until you start screaming and bawling on the other side of the wall. It gives him goosebumps and he is not easily disturbed by such things.


You took J’s body to one of your hideouts and you locked yourself with him in the basement. You can’t stop crying as you keep on caressing his green hair. So many bullet wounds… When you lean over and kiss him, his lips feel colder than ice and it breaks you even more. What is a Queen without her King? Nothing, absolutely nothing, you reply in your mind, wiping the tears streaming down your face.

You rest your cheek on his left hand, outlining the laughing mouth tattoo and take out his wedding ring. You are surprised he still has it but at least you will be able to wear it on a chain around your neck now. You bury your face on his chest, sobbing, not really knowing what your next move should be.

In 7 years, you memorized every single little scar on his skin, every line and curve of his tattoos, all the little imperfections that made him so perfect to you. You sniffle and lift your head up, analyzing the tattoo around his left wrist, identical to yours: “Match made -Joker x Y/N-  in hell” with both your names in the middle, just like a bracelet.

“Hmm…” escapes your lips as you realize the writing seems a bit smaller than what it should be. Must be because you can’t think clearly at this point. Your eyes unconsciously travel back to his laughing mouth tattoo and without realizing you start counting the teeth. An extra one than what it should be. My God you are tired…You rub your eyes, upset, and count again. Why is there an extra tooth?! You count again and then one more time, it just can’t be right. You even stopped crying, intrigued.

“J- Jonny…Jonny!” you stutter, calling for him because he can’t be too far. You unlock the door and sure thing Frost is right there:
“What is it? You need something?”

“Bring me a black light,” you request, clinging to the door handle like your life depends on it.

“Hold on, I think there’s one in the next room. Are you OK?” he shouts over his shoulder, not liking the fact that you look so lost.

“Y-Yeah…” you mutter, biting your nails as you return next to J’s body.

“Here’s the black light, what do you need it for?” he enters the room, handing over what you wanted.

“Turn off the light please!” you almost yell and Frost does as asked. You turn on the black light and bring it on top of the laughing mouth tattoo, moving up and down, watching for what you hope you won’t see. And you don’t.

“Oh my God, Frost, this is not J,” you cover your mouth, gasping. “It’s not J !!”
“What?! What do you mean?” he looks at you, wondering if you finally snapped.

“See this?” you shine the light on your collarbone Jester tattoo, your fingers shaking with anxiety. Frost sees J & Y/N glowing under the UVA light. “We got this three years ago, nobody knows about it. It’s a special ink that you can only see under the black light; I have it on my Jester tattoo and he has it on his laughing mouth tattoo. Look,” you show him, moving the light on top of The Joker’s tattoo. ”Nothing, no initials.”

“Fuck…” Frost whispers, dumbfounded. “Who the hell is this then?!”

“I have no idea… but it sure looks exactly like J, almost fooled me. All his features are mimicked to perfection; they went through a lot of trouble to make this person look like my husband. You know why, Frost?” you glare at the body, fascinated with the resemblance.

“So we won’t look for him anymore?” Jonny frowns, baffled.

You just nod a yes, a thousand thoughts running through your head in the same time. Frost turns the lights back on and something pops in your mind:

“I wonder if…” and you yank the sheet away, completely exposing the corpse. Your eyes rest on the mid-section and grumble:

Definitely not J, I should have looked here first,” you pinpoint to Frost, relieved, and he averts his eyes, not expecting the twist. “Jeez, Jonny, are you five years old?” you admonish him while he just lifts his shoulders up, not wanting to argue. “Just get in touch with Damon, I need to speak to him.”


There is nothing stronger than hope given to a scorned woman looking to settle her demons. The mere glimpse at the possibility of The Joker still being alive set in motion unimaginable forces upon Gotham. You didn’t stop at anything in order to obtain information and search for answers. The more days passed without finding him, the more impatient and merciless you grew. You unleashed everything you’ve got all over the damn city, making sure there was no escape for the ones standing in your way. If The Clown Prince of Crime was still breathing, you were determined to find him at all costs.

After 8 months, Damon gave you another call:

“I just faxed you something, did you get it?”

“I’m getting it right now…What am I looking at?” you ask, grabbing the papers as they are printing.

“Arkham report from the night of the incident: did you notice the number I circled on page 2? That’s how many inmates were in the Asylum at the time. Now look at the number I circled on page 5, the name of prisoners next day: one more than the previous day. No papers, no name, just a number in cell 547A , very easy to miss if you don’t pay close attention. It might be what you’re looking for, my sources tell me it’s a man, kept on the lowest underground level with the most…ummm…(he tries to choose his words carefully but there is no way around it) dangerous criminally insane prisoners. That’s all they were able to retrieve. The section is soundproof; only 5 people have access to the area. You will need your men again to get in and out. Mrs. J, are you there?” he inquired when you didn’t reply.

“I am,” you cut him off, already signaling Frost to come over.


Getting inside was a bitch, they sure made the accursed place a real fortress. You were almost killed in the process; thinking that J might be there made you more reckless and more impulsive than ever. It was a blood bath and lots of casualties but nothing had too high of a price for your mission.

* Frost and your henchmen got you as far as the underground soundproof section and you want to go inside alone while they surveille the surroundings. You stand in front of the metal door of cell number 547A. No bars, no openings, nothing. All the doors in this block are like this, perfectly sealed. You put the gun back in your holster and wipe the blood of the electronic key Frost got for you from the control room. You bring it close to the keypad and once the yellow light comes on, the heavy door opens with a hiss. It’s pitch black inside, only the light from the hallway creeps inside now.

You inhale deeply and step inside. You see him in the straitjacket with the back turned towards you; there is no green hair, his head is shaved.

“Oh, goodie, more fun, I was getting bored,” J huffs and you start silently crying, approaching him and not saying anything. “You guys never talk to me, I’m beginning to think you don’t like me. Can someone leave the light on at least? I’m in the darkness all the time, except for when you take me out for fun times. I think I’m going blind.”

You start unstrapping the metal hooks from his jacket and once it’s done you toss it to the ground. He has nothing under the jacket and you can’t help but noticing the numerous bruises, bullet scars and cuts of all sizes on his skin.

“Who’s going first, hm? Don’t be shy, guys, it’s not like you,” he keeps on rambling, unaware of what’s going on. “Like I said, I was getting bored so let’s get on with it!” The Joker snickers because when does he ever know when to cut it out.

You kiss his neck and wrap your hands around his chest, whispering in his ear:

“You still talk too much, handsome.” You feel his heart beating faster and faster and his body relaxes. You can’t see the smirk on his face when he tells you:

“What took you so long, baby?”

He slowly turns around in your arms and you hug him tight, desperate and relived in the same time, not wanting to let go. He starts purring and firmly holds you, smelling your hair, ecstatic to see you but not wanting to show it too much:
“I missed your perfume, these guys here smell horrible,” and he grins when he realizes you are softly laughing even if he can senses the tears still falling from your eyes on his shoulder.

“I thought you were dead,” you finally tilt your head back a bit to gaze at him and he looks so worn out. You kiss him and he growls, content to have his Queen again. “We should get going…” you suggest, not wanting to part from his arms but you really have to.

J grabs your hand and you step outside the cell, when you suddenly stop.
“Hold on,” you tell him and pull down the elastic on his Arkham sweatpants for a few moments, looking inside, then you let it go. “OK, it’s you,” you sigh, but you wanted to make sure, just in case.

“You’re such a naughty girl, Doll,” he replies, chuckling, not understanding why you did it, walking again while he pulls you closer to him.

“It’s not what you think,” you smile, wiping your tears, and the confused look on his face makes you continue: “I’ll explain when we get home.” He still looks at you all puzzled. “It’s a long story, I’ll tell you.”
“What are you wearing, Pumpkin?!” his steps are getting faster and you quicken the pace too.       OH, that.

“Black clothes; I am, was in mourning, I thought you were dead,” you look at your black shorts and top soaked in blood and he yanks at your hand.

“I hate black, it’s such a depressing color, don’t wear this stuff ever again, got it?” The Joker keeps on bickering and for once you don’t even care.

“Fine, I won’t,” you agree, kissing his shoulder.

“I’m not even dead, Kitten,” he rolls his eyes and wants to tease you more because he sure missed doing it.

“How was I supposed to know?! I wasn’t even sure if I was going to find you here,” you whine, playing along because you realize he needs this after such a long time; you just know how he works.

Frost waits at the main entrance and hears your voices getting closer and closer; it sure sounds like an argument which means you found him and he takes a deep breath, grateful his boss was indeed here and the ordeal is over.

“…are you going to let your hair grow?! I’m not crazy about the bold look,” your voice resonates behind the door that Jonny is fast to open.

“I didn’t have a choice when they shaved my head, Princess, and I am handsome anyway, you shouldn’t care.”

“Well, I do care, call me superficial,” you grumble as you pass by Jonny. He sees J slapping your butt and you giggle, amused, not remembering being so happy in your life.
“Sir,” Jonny greets, straightening his shoulders. My God, does the Joker seem even more frightening and intimidating without his green locks or what?!

“Frost,” J acknowledges his henchman, grinding his silver teeth. “She’s already driving me nuts,” he scoffs, dragging you towards the mercenaries he notices down the corridor. He halts for a second to tug on your hair and kisses your forehead when you wince in pain, protesting:

“Stop complaining, Y/N, I know you like it.”

 Also read- MASTERLIST:



“Capturing Her Damaged Heart”

Rated M. See chapter 1 for list of warnings. I do not own Fairy Tail, Hiro Mashima does.

Summary: A deadly disease plagues the world. People are dying, the dead are rising. The infection spreads too fast to stop. Everyone tries their best to survive in this post-apocalyptic world, but things get messy for Natsu when he finds a blonde woman on one of his missions. Natsu takes it upon himself to help her, protect her, and accidentally fall in love with her? Zombie Apocalypse AU. Hurt/comfort, angst, romance.

Read Chapter: 12, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

Read on FF.net or AO3

Warning: Chapter contains violence

Chapter Three: Hostile

(October 4th, 2017, Wednesday Noon)


Natsu gave the girl an uneasy wave, hoping it would calm her down. He was wrong. It only made her flinch hard before pressing herself against the wall to get away from him. Her feet scraped against the concrete floor, causing more blood to coat the ground and the stray nails near her.

“You probably shouldn’t do that,” Natsu warned, wondering if her feet were responsible for her tears. His eyes raked over her form again, this time taking in more details since she hadn’t responded.

He noticed cuts along her neck and shoulders, some fresh, some healed. They blended in with the dark and light bruises adorning her skin. Her body was dirty, as well as her hair. He saw a few twigs threaded in with her grimy, dark blonde locks. It looked like she hadn’t brushed it in weeks.

Shaking in place, he realized she was probably cold. Her clothes barely covered her. She wore a black tank top, rips in multiple places. He knew she wasn’t wearing a bra, seeing a pink nipple peeking out between a large rip over her right breast.

Natsu’s eyes shot back to her feet, not wanting to see anymore of her private parts. It wasn’t his fault there was a rip over that area, exposing her nipple to him, but that didn’t mean he wanted to keep staring.

Natsu noted the short shorts she wore. He assumed they were supposed to be white. They were covered in dirt and mud, a few spots of dingy white peeking out from the filth.

It took him a moment to realize it, but her skin damage didn’t look normal, even for post-outbreak. Her bottom lip was busted, there was dried blood on her arms, shoulders and legs, and she had a nasty bruise on her left eye. It looked exactly like a black eye, which he would recognize considering him and his friend Gray gave them to each other all the time when they fought.

“Are you okay?” Natsu blurted out, causing the girl to flinch hard. He guessed she got used to the silence, startled when he spoke. “Hey, I won’t hurt you. I just wanna help.”

Natsu tried to play the tough guy, but deep down he had a compassionate heart. It was why he wanted to stay instead of empty the house and leave right away. He didn’t know if it was from seeing Max’s dead body or not, but he wanted to save this girl. She didn’t look like she could save herself.

“Will you let me help you?” Natsu took a step forward, only to have her shake her head. “It’s okay… I’m not gonna bite.” He realized that wasn’t the best thing to say. Currently getting bit was the easiest way to die.

The girl slowly pressed one hand to the ground to push herself up. Natsu’s attention went to the cuts on her leg. They shook badly when she stood, and Natsu finally had a good look at her body.

Or what was left of it.

He didn’t realize how skinny she was until now. Her wrists, ankles, neck, shoulders… everything looked too small. He could see her collarbone clearly, and that disturbed him. He wouldn’t be surprised if he could see each rib on her torso.

Natsu thought she was finally coming around, but that idea was trashed when the girl threw a handful of bloody nails at his face before bolting. Natsu barely managed to block the nails from hitting his eyes and mouth with his arm.

“What the hell?!” he yelled, dropping his arm and turning to see her running up the stairs.

Keep reading

I'll Show You (Part 8) - Theo Raeken Imagine

A/N: Here’s the last part of the “I’ll Show You” series. Theo isn’t really there that much in this part but it still has a lot to do with both Y/N and Theo. I really hope you guys enjoyed this series and the ending. Thank you for all the love, I really appreciate it. PS. sorry in advance for any spelling/grammar mistakes etc.


Note: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4,
Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Pairing: Theo x Reader
Warning: None, I think.
Word count: 1932

Keep reading

Steve x Reader x Bucky

Part 4

“Buck?” Steve called around their dark apartment. His key’s hanging up next to Bucky’s, next to the empty hanger. The guest key holder with the spare set.

In the moonlight’s shadow sat Bucky. His olive skin seemingly glowing with its own light. The scar’s that Cap knew purified by the shadows.

Steve walking towards Bucky, not of his own volition. Drawn into his light like it was 1940 all over again. Once he was in his body heat, he descended onto bend and knee. His head tenderly placed into his love’s lap. The cold metal of Bucky’s fingers playing with the golden strand’s. His brow furrowed in thought. A deep breath to settle his words.

“I miss women, Steve. Their softness, the way they laugh even when you’re not funny. The way they smell when they’re done baking….” Bucky biting his lip his blue eye’s searching the night sky.

Steve looking up helplessly. His finger’s gripping the dark gray sweat pants. The panic unfolding in his chest until he could barely breathe.

“You’re leaving me?” Steve asked slipping onto the floor. His finger’s still clinging to the worn material.

“NO!” Bucky all but falling to the floor in his attempt to grab Steve to his chest.

“Never, never, never. Oh god, Steven Grant Roger’s. Dumbass!” Bucky yelled before his lips melded to Steven’s. Their bodies pressed together in desperation, finger’s grasping at flesh.
Until the first light of morning broke through the window.

Bodies intertwined underneath the small scrap of the sheet left on the bed.

“You know, I don’t think it count’s as bedding anymore.” Steve laughing at Bucky’s joke while he listened to his heart beat.

“Jerk,” Steve commented, his teeth scraping a light brown nipple.

“No.” The brunette laughed before settling back onto the pillow. “I messed up.”

The silence stretching on, “ how do we fix it?”

Bucky smiling down at his fair-haired lover. His mouth opening and closing, mind going over all the possibilities but still coming up blank.

“How would you have fixed it with her 90 years ago?” Steve asked trailing a patterning across his lover’s chest.

“Taken her out. Dance with her the whole night. Carrying her home because her feet were too sore to walk. Then I’d make love to her all night. Not really in a position for all that, hell any of that.” Bucky’s human hand massaging Steven’s scalp until he was delirious with peace.

“We’ll take her out Buck. Maybe then she won’t be so lonely.” Steve mumbled turning on his side. His eye’s finally giving into sleep. Bucky smiling wistfully just as he drifted into sleep.

You sat up a blanket draping from your shoulder’s. Moonlight streaming through the window pane it’s light kissing your skin through the white button down. A long lost lover.

“Bucky,” you sighed longingly, head resting on your own shoulder. Eye’s drifting closed as memories flooded your mind.


The earth splitting underneath his feet forcing him to jump to one side. The sound of shot’s alerting the snipers on the roof. A wall of earth rising in front of you. The smell of freshly turned soil creating a false sense of safety. Meanwhile, your mutant abilities had been alerting S.H.I.E.L.D. of your very existence.

Within minute’s you were pinned down by heavy fire from above, a bullet wound to the side your first taste of pain. The only thing keeping you from annihilating the place was the fact that there were innocent people inside.

“When I figure this out your toast you scum bag’s!!!!” An onslaught of more heavy fire at the sound of your voice.

Your face warm from being covered by so much earth for so long. Just as rapidly as they commenced, it stopped. Suddenly a cold metal hand was jutting through your shield.

A strangled scream from the shock of it. Then you were pulled from the earth with a yank. The earth coating your skin like baptismal water. The still hot shell casing’s causing red mark’s on your skin while you shook them from your tank top.

“Hot oh crap. Shit Shit shit shit shit.” A funny dance accompanying your attempt to be rid of the slowly cooling metal.

“This is what they’re aiming at?” A tall blond man in a navy black body armor commented.

“Mutant’s come in all shapes and sizes.” Iron man said through his suit.

Your eye’s wide as the group before you emerged.

“Avenger’s.” You whispered to yourself. The man who had pulled you out of the dirt glancing at you with his peripheral vision.

“Sir, we must descend to the lower decks. See if there are any survivors. Wanda and Pietro are making their way now.” Vision reported to Tony and Steve. The metal man walking over with you not far behind.

“Was that you?” Captain America asked, turning to you.

“Me? Was what me?” Your sixteen-year-old self trying to play dumb. Eye’s going wide to accentuate your perceived innocence.

“Are you the mutant? If you were, we would owe you  thank you for finding this place.” Steve said trying to draw you out. Instill a sense of trust. Before he could say another word, his earpiece went off.

The color leaving the cheeks of all the present Avengers. Even Vision looked off. He had no stomach to speak of.

“Stay,” Steve commanded you before they moved to the dilapidated building.

“Right like I’m a good dog….I’m not a dog.” Once you were inside the tree line, a whole new vision appeared. A state of the art facility stood in front of you. Chrome and glow standing proudly before you.

Descending behind the Avenger’s, Steve looked perturbed. He merely had them form a parameter around you. Until you reached the basement level. The stench alone made you gag. Content’s of your stomach decorating the floor. Your face resting on the cool metal wall, soothing. That is until you pulled back, the reflection you saw dropped your feet from under you.

The carnage before everyone was insidious. Bodies in various states of decay. The obviously recently living encrusted with the long deceased. The instruments of torture scattered or partially destroyed. Hi-tech mixed with the archaic. You couldn’t look away. There drawn face’s staring at you. The horror written there undeniable. The fates suffered here was engraved on their bodies. Not even time could erode the endured evil.

“Bucky, get her out of here.” His much larger body quickly lifting you. Your tiny hand’s gripping the leather straps of his uniform. Your eye’s still wide while you stared into his black shirt. The face’s of the deceased refusing to leave your mind’s eye. Upon reaching the top step a flood of Shields clean up, the crew followed down the way you came.

Nick Fury waiting next to a large black jet.

“She wasn’t supposed to be down there.” Nick’s disapproving stare falling on his form. Fury had never quite learned to trust the ex-assassin let alone like him. Large leather boot’s walking towards Bucky.

“Set her down,” an ear piercing scream forced Fury backward. Then the ground began to shake violently, the building’s foundation cracking.  Tree’s falling on top of Humvees crushing their roof’s. Wanda’s red energy shot out stabilizing the area.

Your face burying itself in Bucky’s thick neck. His scent different than what you remembered.


The smell of bacon, egg’s, and pancake’s roused you from your slumber. Steve’s leather jacket draped across your front. Bucky’s blanket still resting over your shoulder’s protectively.

“Hey sleepy head,” Bucky commented playfully. A mug of steaming coffee placed gingerly in your hand’s.  A smile creeping across your face.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky said shoving his hand’s in his pocket’s.

“I forgive you. I appreciate it, but you didn’t have to do all this.” Your finger’s running through your hair: one part embarrassment two part’s wanting to fix your hair.

“I did. Yesterday….was a disaster.” Bucky disliking the uncertain feeling that had been sitting in his stomach.

“No, me leveling half a forest is a disaster. Yesterday was a learning experience.” You ended by drinking deeply from your mug.

Bucky relaxing as his stomach unknotted itself.  The two of you settling into a comfortable moment of clarity.