really really the last one i swear


make me choose@neoemos​ + anon asked: chewing gum or firetruck or the 7th sense?

I Slapped Your Ass in Greeting

John Laurens x Reader, ft. Alexander Hamilton

Modern AU

Author: Lil Lambie

Words: 1984

Warnings: Mild swearing, social anxiety, butt slapping mentions of alcohol, and violence

Request: (Anon) :I thought you were my friend so I slapped your ass in greeting AU please!

A/N: At first I didn’t think I’d be able to do this one, but I totally fell in love with it and it all game together. I love this one so much. As for the anon, that brought up our faults in our schedules, I’m really sorry. We are really going to try and stick to the schedule this week, unlike last week which was awful. Enjoy!

“Excuse me, excuse me.” you whispered as you tried to navigate the crowd. Your friends had abandoned you and you were left in a terrifying crowd of punks. You were sure that they were all nice once you got to know them, but they were intimidating from the outside, and you could barely speak because you were choked up with fear.

You shifted with the long line to the concert. You popped in your earbuds and tried to calm down and listen to some music. You texted your friends, begging for them to come back or at least take you home.

They were your ride, and as of now, you would have to find a way home. You frowned when you glanced down at your battery. It was already below 50%. You envisioned yourself in the worst possible scenario, getting thrown into the mosh pit, suffocating from beer, smoke, body heat, and of course social anxiety.

At the thought of this, you turned up the music a little louder, trying to drown out your thoughts. It was getting dark and the concert was about to begin. You had no idea what you were going to do. You considered hiding and crying in a restroom for majority of the concert and hope your phone had enough battery to call someone to pick you up.

“Hey, sexy!” you felt a swift slap across your butt.

Your face instantly turned red. Every part of your body turned red hot. Anxiety coursing through your veins.  Your heart pounded in your chest. Your stomach dropped.

“Ohmygod!” you turned around to see a man, completely red staring at his hand and back at you. “Ohmygod. I am so sorry. I thought you were-I-I.”

You stared at disbelief at the man. He was short and had curly dark hair, that poofed under his red baseball cap. The cap was torn and frayed on the edges with a bit of sweat around the bill. His freckles were like stars compared to his red tomato face.

“I am so so so so sorry! I thought you were my friend and I-”

“Your girlfriend?” you blurted out.

“What? No. My boy-I mean my best friend. Alex. Alexander Hamilton? He’s about yeah high,” he waved the air just below his neck, “full of angst, anger, long dark hair but smooth. Kinda like mine but straight.”

You laughed.

“What? Excuse me?”

You blushed. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to…” you looked down and tried to avoid his eyes.

“What’s so funny?” he asked in a joking tone.

“Nothing, it’s just… you started out saying boyfriend, then you said he was straight and you said you have curly hair-which I mean you do, it’s beautiful-but then it was like the implied joke that you know you aren’t straight and ohmygod I’ll shut up. I’m sorry.” you were rambling and your words jumbled into one, long, run on sentence.

You expected him to yell or defend himself.

He replied with a grin and laughed. He extended his hand. “I’m John. John Laurens. You can call me, J, J La, Laurens, Johnny, Jonathan, frankly you can call me whatever you like.” he chuckled. You took his hand and shook it tentatively.

“I think I’ll just stick with John…J La.” you laughed.

He smirked. “So forgive me, let’s forget about my friend for one moment. But, you seem like a fish out of water here.”

You laughed and nodded. You and John walking to keep up with the moving line. “Yeah, I came with some friends but they ditched me. Also, they were my ride. So, I’m kind of just stuck here. This night has been pretty awful so far.”

“Well, that’s nothing a few beers, dancing, and good music can’t fix.” he smiled.

“Shouldn’t you find your friend, Alex, or something?”

“Nah, he’s fine. Probably lecturing some poor old punk about classic rock and such. He actually kind of likes heavy metal, but I dragged him here with me.” John pointed to his shirt, pointing at the Aerosmith logo. “I love classic rock. But yeah, he’s probably fine. You wouldn’t mind sticking with me would you? I just..I just don’t want you to get lost or overwhelmed because your friends were such assholes-oh,” John blushed, “sorry, that wasn’t my place.”

You shake your head. “You weren’t wrong.” you sighed. “But, I guess I’ll have to take you up on that offer, considering that I well have no one else except me, myself and I.”

John smirked back at you. “You wouldn’t mind if I held your hand then?” he blushed. “Ya, know…so that we don’t get separated or anything…”

“No, not at all.” you threw your hand into his. A warm feeling washed over your body. It wasn’t anxiety anymore. You couldn’t explain it.

You and John continued to talk, he talked a lot of about Alex, and then asked about you. You let him pull you a few rows behind the mosh pit. You started to scream at each other, because the band was doing soundchecks and the crowd was chanting and cheering.

“So, you work at a pizzeria?” you asked.

“Yeah, I actually own it. Just on a college campus not far from here. Originally, I was just an apprentice at the old place, but the old man moved and gave it to me. She’s my little baby. Kind of like Alex.” he laughed. “I swear we aren’t a thing. He’s just my odd wing-man/best friend.”

“Suuuure.” you laughed.

“New York City!!!” one of the frontman singers screamed into the microphone. His hair was long overgrown and thinning fast with old age. He must have been touring for at least half a decade now and was closer to a hundred. The man who was a classic rock legend of his era, was almost a century. But he still had the sound pipes of an angsty thirty year old.

You and John quickly got pushed into the mosh pit.

“John!” you screamed as you lost his hand in yours.

You found yourself in the middle of screaming, sweating, violent, and drunk psycho fans. One elbowed you in the face telling you to ‘shove it’ along with many non-family friendly words. You winced at the throbbing in your nose. You were slowly pushed into the depths of the pit, around everyone’s stomping feet. Someone stepped on your hand.

“John!” you screamed.

You heard a distant shout at the bottom of the feet. Every time you tried to stand up, you got pushed under like trying to resurface the ocean with a wave crashing over your head. Except, instead of white rimmed waves, cigarette ashes and beer fell over your head.

The next moment was filmed with absolute sailor profanity. A fight broke out around you. More so than before. And in the middle of it was a short, freckled-faced, curly haired man. You watched, with tears running down your face, blood running from your nose, as John took a broad looking guy, covered in tattoos.

John hit him with an uppercut punch, and finalized it with a punch to the gut. Anyone who stepped in his pathway ended up with a broken nose and intense bruises. You watched the anguish on his face, sweat dripping down his temples, cap being pushed around. When everything was too loud and panicking to bear, your vision went black.

Strong arms hooked themselves beneath your arms, secured you and pulled you back. The arms dropped from yours, to under your back and legs.

When you could see again, the lights and blaring of the concert was a haze.

“You’re okay!” John cried.

Another man, equally short squatted over you. His hair was dark and slicked into a messy bun, with a scrappy beard.

“Here, take this.” the nameless man said, placing a cold ice pack to your face. John ran to grab a paper towel and helped stop the nosebleed.

“John.” you cried softly, shaking your head. Your tears turned to laughter. “You are dead. You are going to get your ass kicked. You messed with some pretty scary dudes.” you laughed.

The nameless man grinned and slugged John in the arm. He said, “I’m Alex, by the way.”

You and John burst out laughing. You reached for his hand, struggling to calm the tremors in your body. He reached back for yours and met your eyes with a soft smile. He had a few scratches and bruises on his face. A single tear fell. He wrapped an arm around you and held you tight.

“I’m so glad that you are okay.” he cried. He shook his head and sniffed.

“Awww, you’re like a little baby, with snot running down your face.” Alex laughed at John.

John laughed and tried to ignore him. “You know, if you aren’t too traumatized, we could go back to the concert-” he paused when he saw the look of discomfort in your eyes, “-or I was thinking more sensibly, we could go eat an old diner or grab a drink and dance there with no possible chance of a Lion King stampede.” he joked, in a light manner.

Alex shook his head at him. “Too soon man.”

“It’s fine.” you laughed.

“No! I’m taking about Mufasa! It’ll never be okay! He tried to save his son, and he died!” Alex sobbed.

You cocked your head at John, a sly smile on your face. “Is he okay? Is he joking?”

John shrugged. “No one knows.”

John stood up and helped you up. He pulled you into him, an arm around you, the other hand in yours. “Shall we go get a drink then?” he smiled.

“Yeah! Five tequila shots, on John!” Alex snatched the car keys from John’s pocket and started running towards the parking lot.

“I was thinking more like just the two of us.” John laughed.

Alex stopped and looked at John, awful concerned. “Don’t you think that’s quite rude?” he gestured to you.

“I meant (Y/N) and I.” John frowned.

“Well, you need a third wheel for stability right? Buy me five shots and I’ll hang out by the jukebox. You guys won’t even notice me.”

John laughed and looked to you. You shrugged. “I call shotgun!” John shouted. He let go of you and make a quick jump forward.

“No!” Alex screamed. “I don’t want to drive!” Alex booked it to the parking lot.

“Why’d you do that?” you asked. John hadn’t took off running.

“So that I could do this.”

John yanked you forward and kissed you. He had a sharp intense grip on you and kissed you fiercely. Until he softened and melted into the kiss. His grasp softened to nothing and his hand slipped to your hair. To your chin. He brushed his hands down slowly and gently. John’s lips hurt a little bit against yours because of the bruises, but you kissed him back.

“Guys!” Alex came running back, out of breath. “What is taking you so long-oh, GROUP HUG!”

Before you and John could break apart, Alex threw his arms around the both of you.

“Why does he do this?” you laughed, uncomfortably, pressed up against John.

“To ruin the moment.” John laughed. “But, that’s nothing a swift punch can’t fix.” John broke from you, just a moment, to clock Alex in the shoulder, enough to stagger him but not to hurt him. John grabbed you and again and kissed you.

“I like this.” you said in between a kiss.

“I like this too.” John smiled. “I like you more.”

Time slipped by in John’s arms. Your head throbbed with an enormous headache, but it turned to a dull ache when you kissed John. You both ignored Alex’s protests as you kissed more intensely than before. The kiss was filled you with everything and simultaneously nothing.

Because, nothing seemed to matter in John’s arms.

anonymous asked:

sexual tension and love and all is good but olicity needs a lot more to reconcile. what are your thoughts on that?

Oh you’re right, anon. 

Felicity told Oliver when she left him that he tended to revert back to his island way of going alone when things got rough. Oliver had been full of guilt and Felicity had been full of pain, and though they’d talked, they hadn’t talked. 

They haven’t had catharsis. They need that. We need that.

I need them to fight the fuck out. (I’m going to go One Tree Hill on your ass, so bear with me). It would be like this (in my head):

Oliver would be

And Felicity would take a deep breath and crack a joke and change the topic. For once though, Oliver would persist. Because they need to hash it out. The conundrum they’re in is not healthy for either of them, swinging between a rock and a hard place. 

Oliver would push and push and then Felicity would snap. Oh, she’d snap gloriously, laying it all out on the line completely, bare to him

They would hash it all out, completely and yell or whisper or just plain shake each other but they would LAY IT OUT

(I swear i got chills when i saw this scene for the first time)

That was the crux of the matter. Oliver didn’t share with Felicity. Oliver didn’t let her in. And he’s trying. Trying harder. 

He tells her that. He tells her.

It’s raw. It’s unrefined. It’s real

But she isn’t ready for the risk, not again, not so soon. Her heart is bruised and she isn’t ready.

But he can wait. He will wait for eternity if there was even a glimmer of possibility for them because for him, she is it.

And then, after that whole cathartic talk, would they be on the road back to each other. That doesn’t mean they’ll reconcile suddenly. It’s a long road, and it should take its own sweet time when the destination is forever. 

But this is how they get on the path. 

Because after all,

I don’t care if they take thirty minutes or five. I don’t care if they yell or whisper, scream or murmur. I don’t care if they cry like lovers or joke like friends. 

I just need them to talk the fuck out of this conversation.

Meet Me Inside - Part 2

Part 1Masterlist Part 3

Relationship: Bucky x Reader

Summary: You really wanted your last year to go without a hitch so you could finally get your Masters degree. But then Professor Barnes walks in to your lecture. And he makes it a whole lot harder to focus.

A/N: I got such a great response to the first chapter. It truly blew me away. Thank you so much. If anyone wants to create a fic header for the masterlist of this fic, I’d love you forever lol.

Warnings: None really, like one swear word.

Words: 1603

Originally posted by uncensoredsideblog

Waking up to 4 texts from Natasha wasn’t what you had expected. She had early morning lectures so it wasn’t a surprise but you hadn’t planned on having a discussion on what you should wear that particular morning.

“ Are you seeing Professor Sexy McSexface today? “

“ Okay I gotta admit, that’s not my finest work. But it’s 9am, sue me “

“ You should totally wear something hot just fyi “

“ I’m sure that’ll help him give you his ‘notes’ ;) ;) “

You can’t help but laugh at her early morning ramblings. How she managed to function in the mornings was still a mystery to you but you guessed it had something to do with an entire pot of coffee. Rolling out of bed, you send a response.

“ And why would I wear something hot? “

“ Also that last one doesn’t even make sense, what is wrong with you? “

But the thought began to look appealing. He’d shown no interest in you whatsoever yesterday. Yeah because he’s your professor, this isn’t some damn romcom you remind yourself. And yet… Here you were considering dressing up a bit as opposed to the usual “throw anything on” approach you had begun to take after being in university for so long.

Your phone chimes.

Keep reading

He Calls Me Kitty (Damian Wayne x Reader)

Where this came from? Good question. It popped into my head last night and I knew I needed to write it. This one is probably going to be a chaptered fic, but I’m not sure if it will be romance or friend ship yet.

Trigger warnings: Violence, mentions of death, really vague mentions of rape, and swearing

Part Two

Originally posted by 0sungoddess0

Being able to shape shift from one animal to another could be really cool, you learned that from experience. When your parents were still alive you would shift to your (hair color) haired cat. It was a fun party trick which you did only with your loving family. You were treasured for being ‘extraordinary’ and special child. It was a fun relaxing life as a human kitten hybrid.

Being able to shapeshift into a cat could also be very useful, a lesson you learned from a different experience. After your parents perished you needed to fend for yourself, sometimes strangers were more kind to a kitten starved and thin that a little child in tattered clothes begging for food to survive. Other times being a cat meant you could twist around in small spaces and reach hard to get food when you needed it.

Being able to shapeshift into a cat could also really suck, an experience you are learning right now.

Keep reading

Chrom: VA Matthew Mercer

You know, yesterday’s post was pretty intence. I do like that I was able to get some frustrations of my chest rather than let them boil under my skin, and based on the reception of that post a lot of people seem to agree with me and what I pointed out. But one I want to avoid becoming is little miss bringdown. So I decided to brighten up the mood a bit by delving into the realm of voice acting.

And who else better to start with than with my real life senpai, Matthew Mercer.

God, he’s so gorgeous, even in real life… 

Originally posted by kasugano

*clears throat* Anyway, let’s take a look at some of the characters our dearest has leant his lovely voice to.

Now Fire Emblem fans likely already know he has voiced a few characters in recent games, including two of my favorites, Chrom and Shigure. You also likely already know from a previous post that he also voices Yusuke in Persona 5. Plus, any Overwatch player already knows that he voices McCree.

But now it’s time to list off some of his other roles.

To start and build off that gif, he actually voices

prince Diamond from Sailor Moon (or prince Demande if you’re watching Sailor Moon Crystal). And considering this anime is rather old, it goes to show just how long he’s been in the business.

And that’s not the only long standing anime he’s been a part of. He’s also voiced

Trafalgar Law from One Piece.

And as it that’s enough to surprise you, he’s also voiced

Shukuro Tsukishima from Bleach. I don’t know much about him, since I haven’t watched Bleach in years, but he is one handsome man.

In fact, Matthew seems to have a bit of a habit playing characters who are pretty handsome. 

For one, he voices someone from one of my favorite anime:

Joker from Black Butler.

There’s also

Leon S. Kennedy from Resident Evil 6.

We also have

Lao from Xenoblade Chronicles X.

And to top off the handsome men he likes to voice, he’s voiced

Jai Chong from Dynasty Warriors. And I’ve heard the way he voices ths guy, and I can now say that Matthew can do one hell of a Sephiroth impression.

He also voices

Taishi Ci, but I don’t really hear people talking about him, so moving on.

Now these next two are definitely going to satisfy certain fans. For any Phoenix Wright fans, he voices

Nahyuta Sadmadhi in the most recent game.

And to fans of Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure, he voices

Jotaro Kujo.

But Matthew isn’t above voicing smaller roles. He voices

Fei Long from Street Fighter and

Cor from Final Fantasy 15.

But one that surprised me was learning that he voices

Skelter Helter and

Bishop from No More Heroes 2. I swear I never noticed this. Just goes to show how good his vocal range is.

But these last two are really note worthy.

Turns out Yusuke is not the first Persona character he’s voiced, as he also voices

Kanji Tatsumi from Persona 4. Now based on what I saw he voices Kanji in the animated series not the actual game, but I doubt it’s that big of a deal.

And the last voice we have for our lovely Matthew is

Levi from Attack on Titan. I actually just recently heard Levi’s voice from watching a video, and it does fit very well for him. I really got to work on getting back to watching Attack on Titan so i can hear more of his performance.

As you can see, Matthew Mercer really has a wealth of experience when it comes to voice acting to have so many roles under his belt and can achieve a large range of tones and fluxes with his voice.

Now do you guys see why this man is my real life senpai?

And before anyone comments; yes, I am aware that he is currently engaged to someone else. But, hey, I’m still young and i got a lot of time and patience for the future.

Just you wait Matthew Mercer, you will be mine one day.

I’m the One Who Wears Cashmere

inspired by @reioka‘s idea about Bucky wearing sweaters on assassin missions because it’s cozy. 

Tony really hated that Natasha was putting him on a blind date, because he could pick out his own people just fine. “The last one you picked try to murder you,” Natasha says flatly. 

“You try to murder Clint literally everyday he visits your apartment with his dog, are you sure you’re the best candidate to tell me this?” Tony asks. Natasha shrugs. 

“Well, I have a reason to try and murder him. Lucky gets on my couch. The only thing that gets on that couch is me, blankets, and occasionally pizza rolls.” 

“Pizza rolls are not an occasional thing, you buy them in the forty-count bags,” Tony replies. “Do I really have to go on a date? I could be building a death ray right now.” 

“A.) Don’t build a death ray unless my people rise again. B.) You’ll like this guy.” 

“Natasha, you moved from Russia when you were, like, twelve. Don’t call them your people, I’ve already been asked by Steve if I’m harboring a communist.” Natasha actually snorts at that. 

“Steve was joking. He knows that he’s really the one who works hard and seizes the means of production.” Tony actually laughs at that. “By the way, wear that oversized red sweater that you swear you didn’t steal from Rhodey. It looks good on you.” 

“It makes me look like I’m twelve,” Tony whines. 

“No, it doesn’t. No twelve year old has awesome facial hair.” 

“You agree it’s awesome?! Score! I told Stephen it was cool.” 

“Whatever. You’re meeting Barnes at the soup and bread restaurant on the corner. You know, where Boris sells his ‘authentic’ knives?” 

“Oh my god, it’s one of your creepy friends. No, nope, nada. I’m not going.” Natasha levels him with a glare that would be enough to overtake the roll of president and maybe get a free coffee from that hipster place a block over. “Fine, I’m going. But if I don’t come back by one in the morning…” 

“I’ll just tell Rhodey that you went on a date and he’ll go ballistic and call the military to find you or whatever. Move, Clint’s coming over to watch Dog Cops with me.” 

Bucky is at the restaurant, sitting by himself for all of ten minutes. He hates that Natasha threatens to do this to him. Apparently, he needs “regular interaction.” Whatever that is, he gets it. He pets a dog everyday. Talks with Boris about his knives. Hisses at cats because they’re as bad as Steve’s friend Sam is. (He hates Sam. And his insistence that birds are better than dogs, because They Are Not.) 

Natasha texted him that there would be a man in an over-sized red sweater. Bucky doesn’t bother trying to make assumptions; while Natasha is great at many things, setting up dates isn’t always the best. She thought Johnny Storm would’ve made a great match for Sharon, which the most hilarious thought since dogs falling off slides.  

Tony sees Bucky, the guy with the Murder Face and a menu in front of his face. He could just ditch this. Tell Natasha that everything was great. But then he runs the risk of hurting this Bucky’s feelings, and that is Not A Good Thing. So, he sits down at the table, and the man puts his menu down. 

Oh. God. 

That face is the best thing since Rhodey showed him that video of Steve falling in the parking lot. (They have a weird friendship, and Rhodey just flat out does not Tolerate Steve a lot.) 

“Hello,” Bucky says, voice all gravelly. “Are you Tony?” 

“Yes, hello,” Tony says. “You’re Bucky right? Because if this is the wrong booth, then I am ditching whoever Natasha said was Bucky. Wait, you’d never know me if you weren’t Bucky, okay, cool. Oh, wow, this is a thing I’m doing. Rambling.” Bucky smiles at him, and that is like gold all on its own. That could be currency, oh god. Bucky Smiles, worth a million dollars. 

“How was your day today?” Bucky asks, sliding him a menu. 

“It was pretty good, not gonna lie. I saw two dogs and one video of a baby giraffe,” Tony says. He’s not afraid to admit that dogs and videos of baby animals are awesome. “How was your day?” 

“I killed a guy,” Bucky says with a shrug. “I also bought a new sweater.” Tony laughs, because he’s just so casual with the joke that it makes him sound like he actually killed a man. 

“What’s the sweater like?” Bucky thrusts out his sweater sleeve, and Tony gets to touch it. It’s soft, a cable knit. It actually is a nice color; a dark green that Tony would wear too. “Oh my god, that’s so soft.” 

“Yeah, it was on sale too!” Bucky adds. “Seventy-five percent off.” 

“That. Is. Amazing. Where?” So, conversation starts. They talk around their food and drink. Bucky learns that Tony is an engineer, super smart, and knows Steve. 

They’re walking home–well, Bucky is walking Tony home. Everything is going great, Bucky is telling him about Supreme Evil Sam, when someone is ahead of them. They look dangerous; bulky, breathing heavy, basically every jock Tony had experienced in high school. “Hey buddy,” Tony says, trying to move. The guy grabs him arm–what the heck–and turns him around to face Bucky. 

“It’s you or him,” he growls. 

“Bucky, please either call 911 or get him breath mints, this guy’s breath is rank,” Tony says as calmly as possible. 

Instead, Bucky grabs a knife and nails the guy in the head. It is safe to say that Tony was not expecting that. “Oh god oh god Bucky what the hell did you do oh my god–” 

“Tony, please be quiet and help me drag him to my car,” Bucky says. Tony stands frozen. “Tony, I told you what I do for a living. I kill people.” 

“Are you gonna kill me?” 

“You’re too sweet to kill.” 

“Oh my god thank you, that’s so sweet–NO WAIT YOU KILL PEOPLE?!” Bucky rolls his eyes, having the decency to look at least sheepish. “Bucky, no offense, but no one kills someone in sweaters.” 

“They’re cozy,” Bucky says. He pops the trunk, lifting the body in. Tony can’t look, and pulls out his cellphone. “Don’t call 911. I’ve been tracking this guy for months. He’s a human trafficker.” 

“I’m calling Nat,” Tony says shakily. “Oh my god, what am I gonna do? I can’t go to jail, the judge at court hates me and will sentence me to death!” 

“There’s more than one judge, Tony,” Bucky says. “And you’re not going to jail.” 

“Hello?” Natasha answers. “Tony, this better be an emergency.” 

“You didn’t tell me that my date kills people for a living,” Tony hisses into the phone. “And in a soft sweater!” 

“Put him on the phone,” Natasha says curtly. “Clint, don’t try and dominate Lucky in this round, you’ll never win.” Tony passes the phone to Bucky. 

“You aren’t supposed to reveal that until the third date,” Natasha hisses. “Did we go over all this for nothing?” 

“To be fair, he’s taking it better than Steve did,” Bucky defends. “And Tony likes that I pet dogs everyday and my sweaters.” 

“Okay, fine. Come to my place with the car. I’ll dump it.” Bucky nods. “Clint, I swear to god if you touch my borscht I’ll cut your arm off. How do you think Bucky got his arm?” Bucky snorts, hanging up. 

“We need to go to Natasha’s.” 

“Wait, she knows about this?!” 

“She helped me get the job. I don’t kill innocent people,” Bucky says, blush forming. God, he’s getting sappy over murder. Not something that happens every day. “I kill the really, really bad ones. Like human traffickers and people who want to release rare diseases into the atmosphere. I saved Iowa from destroying itself last month.” Tony nods. 

“Oh. So it’s bad people?” Bucky nods. “Okay, that’s not so bad. But what if you ruin your sweaters?” 

“I’m too good to ruin any of my sweaters,” Bucky boasts. Tony rolls his eyes. 

“Sure you are.” Bucky grins at him. “So, next date, I’m choosing where we go, and I choose a shelter so we can volunteer and walk dogs.” 

“Best date ever,” Bucky agrees solemnly. 

Their third date goes a bit sideways; they have to wash a sweater that got drenched. Bucky cries. Tony tries to placate him with funny videos of cats falling and stories about his utter disappointment of a robot that is his pride and joy, Dum-E. 

Why Not Me

James Potter x Reader

A/n: Probably gonna do a part 2 if you guys want one because I feel like I could keep going with this. Warnings: some swearing, a little angst. Words: 2155

 You had known James Potter since you were three years old. You lived in the house next to his and you two had grown up together. After being best friends with someone for 13 years obviously you get attached, and it’s natural to be protective of them. That’s how you were justifying you’re feelings at this point, but it wasn’t working out too well. It wasn’t painfully obvious that you felt more then friendship towards James, everyone knew you two were close so no one suspected a thing. Especially not James, he was too head over heels for Lily Evans. Lately he hasn’t played you a lick of attention, he was too busy trying to catch hers. It’s not that you didn’t like Lily in fact you two were very close friends, you just envied her. You envied how easily she captured his attention and had him wrapped around her finger with a few simple words. It was just so frus-”Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!” Your other best friend Victoria was frantically waving her hands in front of your face standing in front of where you were previously spaced out sitting at a library table.  “Yes” you replied in a monotone voice, still in a daze from your little disconnection from reality and a little thrown off  by your thought path. “What are you doing I’ve been looking for you forever!” she shrieked. “Why what’s wrong?” I asked. “No. You’ve just been missing for hours and everyone was getting worried. It’s almost curfew and no one had seen you since last class. Did you skip dinner? Have you been here the whole time? I swear I checked here at least five times.” She bombarded you with a tsunami of words. “Wait is it really that late I didn’t even realize” I said as I rushed to pack up all my books and parchment. Had I really been zoned out for that long? “Well hurry up I don’t wanna be caught out past curfew I already have detention for what feels like the rest of my life” she overdramatized. “Okay, okay I’m going as fast as I can” I said as we made our way through the halls back to the commun room.

When we entered I felt nauseas at the sight of Lily and James basically snogging each others faces off on one of the sofas. Victoria saw you quickly look away and whispered in your ear “Just ignore them.” Linking your arms together and ushering you to your dorm. Your other roommates were all sitting around in the room doing their own little things. “Finally you found her!” exclaimed Abbey. “Wait honey what’s wrong?” asked Cara as she looked up form her book seeing your solem expression. “Ah it’s not because of that Potter boy again is it? You just need to get over him,” stated Abbey matter offactly. You didn’t even respond, instead just flopping down on your bed. “Look Y/n it’s gonna get better you’ll get over him,” said Victoria sitting down next to you. “How am I supposed to get over my best friend, I’ve known him for so long?” I asked “Well first you’ll realize that he’s a bloody bloke if he decided to choose her over you. Then you’ll find a new boy and you won’t even give Potter a single thought.” Abbey said as if she just solved a difficult math question. “It’s not that easy Abbey” victoria chastised her. “No she might be somewhat right. What if you found another boy to get over James, like a rebound?” Cara offered. “Is it really a rebound if we were never together?” I asked still replaying the scene from the common room over in my head. How happy they looked together. “It’s the principal that counts” Cara said. “Yeah that’s a great idea! It doesn’t have to mean anything. You can find a boy Saturday at the party after the quidditch game’” Abbey was way too fond of this plan. “I don’t know guys, I don’t even think i’ll go to the quidditch game” I said sitting up. “Now that’s just ridiculous of course you’re going to the qudiditch game and for once I actually agree with Abbey.” Victoria said “Well thanks for letting me know how you really feel about me,” Abbey mocked hurt.

It was Saturday night and the Hufflepuff team were down by so many points that they couldn’t even win if they caught the Golden Snitch. Of course it was James who was scoring all the points as he was ‘the best chaser in Hogwarts history’ as he liked to refer to himself. There he goes scoring yet again as the seekers continued to chase the golden snitch around the pitch. It wasn’t long before Gryffindor caught the golden snitch and the crowd went absolutely ballistic. James being the cocky bastard he was did a victory lap around the stands winking at me as he flew by. Everyone started making their way off the stands and towards the players to congratulate them. It seemed like Lily was the first one down, throwing herself into his arms like you used to when he still paid his “best friend” a care in the world. Using that term loosely now considering he hasn’t given me more then a handful of acknowledgments since him and Lily stated their little love affair.

Meanwhile I was still sitting on the bleachers next to Remus, the rest of our friend had been lost in the crowd. “So I assume you’re going to the party?” he inquired. “I don’t really know yet I’m not in a party mood tonight,” I replied in a slight daze, James and Lilys display having thrown me off. “That’s exactly how I feel but Sirius would have my head if I don’t attend the ‘most legendary party ever’ as he’s been calling it” he said. We both laughed lightly because only Sirius could make such a big deal of one of the hundreds of partys thrown every year. “Well I suppose if you’re going it wouldn’t hurt to give you some company” I said with a slight smile somewhat distracted from my previously gloomy thoughts.

We walked together, in no rush, back to the Gryffindor common room. By the time we got there the party was already in full swing and it seemed that Sirius was already wasted as he stumbled up to the two of you “What a surprise my two favorite people,” we said while balancing his entire body weight on Remus, leaning against him with an arm swung over his shoulder. “Where’ve you two been? James was asking ‘bout ya” he slurred his word together at the end making his words barley eligible. “Why was he looking for me?” remus asked confused. “Not you Moony the pretty one” Sirius said grabbing a lock of your hair twirling it around his finger and winking at you before he went prancing off sloppily to some other people. “We should probably try to slow his drinking,” you said. “There’s no point trying, you take a cup of fire whiskey out of his hands and the second you turn around he’s got two more.” He joked even though we both knew it was true. Shouldn’t you go talk to James anyway, find out what he wanted?” He more so pointed out then actually asking. Just then as you looked across the room you spotted him a cup of alcohol in is hand and Lily perched on his lap. Averting your gaze “I think I’ll enjoy your company much more.” you said and he gave you a goofy grin.

As the night went on you and Remus had found a couch that wasn’t occupied by drunk couples trying to get it on. You were slightly intoxicated, that’s putting it lightly. Your friends kept popping up to have a quick chat and handing you different concoctions every couple minutes. Remus on the other hand was sober as could be, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t enjoying the beautiful giggling girl hanging off his arm and practically sitting in his lap going off about how her little brother once brought a niffler home and tried to keep it as a pet. His cheeks blazing at the extremely close proximity. You hadn’t even noticed how close you were to him, not really being aware of anything all your senses were slowed and your brain was fuzzy just saying anything that came to mind. “We should go for a walk” you said giggling again even though you hadn’t said anything funny “It’s getting really stuffy in here I need some air” Grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the exit before receiving a reply. You two were in the hallway in no time, you prancing around and Remus trying to keep up. “It’s still so hot out here,” you exclaimed cursing your clothes. You ripped your sweater off and threw it away, Remus scrambling to pick it up while you keep gallivanting away. “Woah Y/n maybe you should slow down” You stopped abruptly and turned on your heels grinning wildly as he skidded to a stop right in front of you. Your breath fanning across his chest before you looked up to his eyes “Thank you Rem, you’re a real great guy” looping your arms around his neck, your fingers playing with the little wisps of hair at his nape. “Why are you thanking me I haven’t done anything” he stuttered out, trying desperately to not stare at your chest that was pressed against his “Oh but you’ve done so much for me” you said barley above a whisper but it was loud and clear to him. His heart racing a mile a minute as you leant closerand closer until your lips met.

You tasted of fire whiskey and sweetness. He placed his hands on your hips as you kept tugging on his hair. Neither of you hearing the loud steps comig your way. Your reaction was slow when Remus was so quiqly pulled away from you and pushed against the wall by a fuming James Potter. “What do you think you’re doing mate.” He yelled at Remus. “Woah Prongs calm down” Remus tried to defuse the situation but if anything he just made James more livid. You still drunk off your ass decided it would be a good idea to jump on his back to try and stop him “Rem run i’ll hold him off,” you said in a panicy tone “and see ya tomorrow save me a muffin at breakfast” you giggiled totally forgetting how paniced you were a moment ago. Remus jogged off down the hallway you still on James’ back.

“What the bloody hell do you think you were doing with Remus of all people” James pried you off his back so he could face you “What’s that supposed to mean?” you questioned giggling because of James furrowed eyebrows. “You two were just snogging in the hallway, you can’t just going around doing that Y/n” he elaborated still so very angry. “Why not you and Lily do it all the time? Why am I nto allowed to do it” you started getting upset, all the suppressed emotions rising up in a fury. James soffened as soon as he saw you getting upset “look Y/n I’m-” he tried apologising but you interrupted him “No James tell me why can’t I be happy? You think you can just leave me and i’ll stop everything I’m doing until you come back? No James I’m done. I am so over always being second to that Lily Evans.” You were now yelling hysterically, tears streaming down your face, completely inconsolable. James was shocked into silence not knowing how to respond to your outburst. “Why not me? Why wasn’t I good enough? I loved you so damn much and you picked her. You chased after her all these years while I was here the whole time. Then as soon as she acknowledges your existence I’m completely throw aside, I get replaced by some stuck up red head who ignored you for years!” It was all coming out now, your body racked with sobs. James pulled you into to his chest ignoring your attemps to push him away just holding you close whispering “I’m so sorry” and “I didn’t know” over and over like a broken record. “Do you know how much it hurts? I loved you. I love you, and you don’t even care about me, all you care about is her.”

That’s how the remaider of your night went. Not really coming to a resolution, just letting it all out as James held you, and when you finally fell asleep he carried you back to your dorm placing you in bed. This was a conversation for tomorrow, when you were sober, right now you just needed to sleep. To live in your dreams and shut out reality.

From The Dining Table

You two haven’t spoken in two years.

Not since it all ended that night in the hotel room. When it all changed. When it all came crashing down. When awful words were said that couldn’t be taken back. When it all fell apart.

It started at a wedding, of all places. A friend of Harry’s was getting married in Hawaii, and had invited you both. You accepted the invitation, of course, excited for the chance at a nice vacation with your boy. The whole trip had been amazing up until the reception, when your tiny mistake of catching the bouquet opened up a conversation with Harry you realized you weren’t ready for. Marriage. Of course, you wanted to marry him, but it was never something that you ever discussed aloud. You often caught yourself imagining a life with him, and mini hims running around.

“Hey, hey! Look who’s caught the bouquet, H. Guess the next wedding we’ll be at, will be for the two of yeh!” Nick’s voice rings out above the music playing in the background.

You smile at him, sitting back down in your chair and turning to Harry. “Did you hear that, babe? We’re gonna have our own fancy wedding next” you say while elbowing him in the arm, obviously joking- although Harry doesn’t seem to catch on to that.

“Yeah, love. I’m sure” He mumbles, sipping out of his champagne glass, before resuming the conversation he was having with Nick.

His response rubbed you the wrong way, but you decided to ignore it. You rest your chin on his shoulder, to whisper in his ear. “Wanna dance with me?” pressing a kiss behind his ear. He turns his head towards you, lips pulled into a tight frown, while he thinks. He presses a kiss to your forehead, before answering. “How ‘bout we go up to the room? I’m quite tired, love. Too much champagne.”

Trying to hide the disappointment in your face, you agree. You both make your rounds, saying goodnight to everyone, before you make your way up to the elevator. He presses your floor, leaning against the wall with his hands in pants pockets. You throw the bouquet at him, but he’s not fast enough to catch it. “Well, you’re not getting married next are you, clutz?” you joke with him, leaning down to pick it up.

“Yeh don’t really believe in that, do yeh?” He scoffs at you. “I mean, jus’ ‘cause yeh caught it, doesn’t mean I’m wifin’ yeh tomorrow, yeh know”

You roll your eyes. “Of course, we’re not getting married tomorrow. But we will soon, right? It’s just a reminder of that” you state, holding the bouquet up in front of his eyes. “See? Now you’re reminded”

The elevator opens, you step out first with him following. “Love, a silly little thing o’ flowers isn’t gonna make me wanna get married” he replies, taking the room key of his back pocket. “Don’ think that’s for me” he says again, before moving to let you in first.

You turn around, looking at him with the most puzzled look on your face. Your eyebrows are furrowed, and you can’t stop the frown that’s made it’s way onto your lips. “What do you mean “not for you”? Marriage?” you ask.

“Jus’ not something I ever wanted” he says, while taking off his pastel yellow suit jacket. “Thought yeh knew that?”

Laughing sarcastically, you narrow your eyes at him. “Yeah, I totally knew that you never wanted to get married. Thanks for that info”

You take your heels off, throwing them next to your suitcase, turning your back to him. He’s unbuttoning his palm tree printed shirt, which you told him you didn’t like before the ceremony, and throwing that on top of his own suitcase. He turns to you -not sure how to approach you now.

“Love, look at me?” he whispers. You’re not budging from your spot and he sighs, walking over to you. “Will yeh turn ‘round, please?” he pleads, placing his hands on your shoulder.

You shove his hands off of you, whipping around. “Were you ever even planning to tell me this?” your voice full of much more anger than it was before. “Huh? Or were you just going to string me along this whole time?”

Harry sighs again, pressing the inside of the bridge of his nose between his fingers. A telltale sign that he’s getting frustrated. “O’course, I wasn’t gonna fuckin’ string yeh along. Can’t this jus’ be enough for yeh?”

“No. No, Harry. It cannot “just be enough” you snap. “What’s the fucking point of anything we’re doing, if it isn’t leading to anything”

“Jesus Christ, lots of people don’ get married and stay together” he snaps back, running his hands through his hair. “The hell is your problem?”

“My problem is that no matter what I do, I’m stuck here waiting for you. Waiting for you to get back from tour, waiting for you to be ready to commit to me. I’m always fucking waiting for you Harry” you sigh.

“What are yeh talking ‘bout?” he says. “Am I not here as much as I can be?”

You widen your eyes at him, “Oh yeah, I love when you’re in town. I get to be at home on the couch, while you’re out with your friends until God knows when!”

“That’s not fair, yeh know I have appearances to attend!” he scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Not my fault, yeh’d rather stay at home all the time”

“You never ask! God, do you even want a girlfriend? Sure as hell doesn’t seem like it!” you sneer, your anger rising by the second.

Harry stares you in the eyes, his mouth in a frown, before saying “Maybe I don’t”

You nod your head at him, walking to the bathroom to gather up everything that you left on the counter, throwing it back in your suitcase. Harry grabs your hands, trying to stop you from packing. “What the hell are yeh doing?” his voice now matching your anger.

“I have to go, I’m tired of waiting for you all the damn time” you yell at him. “I can’t just sit here and pretend like just being your girlfriend is enough for me”

“Well if yeh gonna fucking go, then go. Not like I can’t find someone else who’ll be okay with it” he shouts out, the champagne he had earlier clearly getting to him.

After a night that was supposed to be full of happiness, you left Harry in that hotel room; where 24 hours prior, you’d spent the entire day together. You hopped on the first plane back home, and never saw him again.

A knock on your apartment door breaks your focus on your tv screen. It’s well past midnight, and you weren’t expecting anyone over today. In the peephole is the last person that you would’ve ever expected. He’s standing in the hallway, in a pair of familiar dragon embroidered, silk pants. You hated them then, and you surely hate them now; somehow even more now that he’s in front of your door with them on. He knocks again, louder this time, and you realize you’ve been looking out the peephole for a good 5 minutes now. Inhaling deep, you reach for the knob to open the door. For the first time in 2 years, you’re standing face to face with Harry.

“H-Hi…..” he stutters out, wide-eyed and obviously nervous. You know because he’s doing that thing where he plays with his bottom lip; to occupy his hands.

“Hi” you sighed in return. He looked different and familiar all at the same time. He was bigger and much broader, sporting even more tattoos, but his same signature scent of cologne lingered in the air. “Not to be rude or anything, but…what are you doing here?” you decide to break the ice and ask.

“Not too sure myself to be honest with yeh” he answers with a small laugh. “I’m in town doing a bit o’ shows and I-I guess I just wanted to see yeh?”

“Um, do you- do you wanna come in?” you offer. Not expecting him to say yes, you open your door for him to enter, wishing you had cleaned before he came.

He’s looking around the living room, and everything looks the same as it was before. It reminds him that you went on with your own life, in the time that you were apart. Your painting is still crooked on the wall, the rug is still too small for the room, and there’s still that stain that he made on the couch with salsa. Breaking him from his thoughts, you ask him again “Harry, why are you here?”

“Love, I really miss yeh, yeh know?” he whispers, turning towards you to run a hand along the side of your face. “I’m a fucking idiot for never running after yeh that night”

“Harry…..don’t” you reply, removing his hand from your cheek. Running your hands through your hair, you sigh loudly. “You should leave, H”

“Okay, I will, I swear jus’- jus’ answer one thing for me? Please?” he pleads. Everything in you is screaming no, say no. But the way that he looks so desperate to hear your response, the way his eyes are looking so intensely into yours. You can’t say no.

“Okay” you mutter, breaking the eye contact between the two of you. “Okay, what is it?”

“Kiss me” he says simply. You snap your head up, your eyebrows furrowing. You’re about to decline before he interrupts you.

“Look, I know yeh might wanna say no, but just hear me out okay?” he begs. “I’ve missed yeh so much these past years” he begins, looking into your eyes again. “I jus’ want a better memory than us screaming at each other, if it’s gonna be the last one I ever get”

You walk into the kitchen, him following behind you. He watches you, waiting for you answer, while you grab onto the countertop and think. “You really hurt me, you know” you finally say.

“I’m sorry, love. I really am, if I could take it all back- I would I swear” he answers.

Against all your better judgement, you lean in to kiss him. It takes him a second to actually kiss back, your actions surprising him. He moves his hands up to hold your head; which is one of your favorite things about kissing Harry. He always took his time with it, never rushing anything, treating you with such care. Harry breaks away from the kiss, moving down to press sweet kisses against your neck, wanting to inhale your scent one last time.

“Make love to me” you whisper so low that he almost doesn’t hear. Almost. “One last time”

He holds your eyes for a minute, wanting to make sure that you really want this. “Are yeh sure?”

You take one of his hands and place it on your right breast, urging him to touch you again. “Please” you breathe out.

Harry wastes no time, moving to back you up against the steel fridge door. He’s kissing you with much more fervor now, more hunger, more desperation. He inches his fingers down to the drawstring on your sweatpants, untying it as best as he can with one hand. Breaking the kiss, he crouches down to get you out of your pants and pressing a kiss to your cloth covered center. Before pulling them down, he looks at you one more time as if to ask for permission. “Please” you repeat, giving him all the confirmation he needs.

He presses one long kiss to your clit, before moving down to press his tongue in deeper. “Already so wet for me” he whispers. His nose is nudging your button and he’s easing in two fingers, reaching your g-spot without any trouble. You grab onto the top of his head to pull him back up to your lips, because as much as you’ve missed his mouth on you, you missed kissing him even more. He’s moving his hands faster and in an up and down motion, making you cry out. He’s hitting that perfect spot that only he knows how to reach. “Come on, love. Give me what I want” he whispers against your mouth, his eyes unmoving from where he’s fingers are inside you. As if on command, you feel your release come and your thighs smack close around his hand, trying to stop its movement.

Your mind is now set on one thing and one thing only, which is to make him cum. The rational side of you gone out the window. Before you know it, you’re on your knees, unzipping his pants and pressing hot open-mouthed kisses to his thigh tattoo. When you pull his red boxers down, the length of him springs up to his stomach. He’s thick and pink and veiny, just as he always was, and you realize just how much you’ve missed having him like this. How responsive he was, how loud, how grateful.

You can see a tiny bit of precum beginning to leak out of his head, and you bend to lick it off. “Ba-Baby, fuck.” he groans out. “S’not what I want, babe. You gotta stop.”

He grabs a hold to the back of your thighs, lifting you to place you on the dining table and connecting his lips with yours once again.

A lot of memories were made on this dining table- like the first time he told you he loved you while eating ice cream, when you left him a key to this very apartment, when you had your first anniversary dinner…and many more. It’s only fitting that you two would also end on this same mahogany, table.

She Isn't Yours, Jerome.

Originally posted by dcbatmanandjoker

Request: Could you please write an imagine where the reader is Bruce Wayne’s (Gotham) girlfriend and she gets kidnapped by Jerome because he’s obsessed with her and isn’t happy with the fact that her and Bruce are a thing. Then since Jim is the reader’s dad he and Bruce go rescue her. Once they do the reader is relieved and cries in Bruce’s arms because she was really scared and she’s just really glad to see both of them. Sorry this is long and thank you in advance!

Fandom: Gotham!Bruce Wayne x Reader

Note: this is in the reader’s point of view. it includes kidnapping, a bit of violence i think, swearing & this is sort of a rusty imagine and i have no idea why i left this one shot to write last in my requests list. whoops !!

Bruce and I went out to the movies. It’s been a while since he’d done something like this, after what happened to his parents on a night he would never forget. A night of enjoying time with your family. Neither Bruce and I wanted to go home yet. There was an arcade and a snack bar that was open for an hour left, so we went there after the film was over.

We came in partway through the crowd of people and I hand a twenty dollar bill to Bruce. “You said you wanted more burgers, right?”

Bruce stutters, “B-but that’s the last o-of your-”

“Shhhhhh!” I hissed. I know he’s rich and Alfred already provided him almost anything to the movies and even advised him to not go down the same alley, or any alley, I gave him the money anyways. “Well none of the game machines will accept dollar bills.”

“Not even the pinball machine?” he pouts like a little kid.

“Nah, Bruce. Not even the pinball machine. But hey! I got spare change here,” I patted my pocket. “I’ll go save a game for the both of us, you can buy more food.”

“Really? Your dad won’t get mad?”

“He would get mad if I stole money or if I spoke to strangers and receive candy from them. It’d be hard for him to handcuff his daughter and take her to the slammer if she was caught with drugs.”

“Gee, Thanks.” He takes a moment before kissing me. He then left.

My father, the infamous Detective James Gordon, would actually be pretty pissed. But this is a date and Bruce paid for the tickets, two giant bags of popcorn and a giant soda. 

Can’t believe he had room for burgers.

The pinball machine was vacant, the red lights flashing from the bulbs caught my attention. I started laughing when I recalled a memory of Bruce losing a round. I hoped Bruce wouldn’t take long with the food because I enjoy competition. 

“Care for a game of pinball?” a voice crept up without notice and I almost dropped the coins in my hand. I looked around with a relieved laugh.

“Bruce, did you just hit puberty and deepened your voice-”

My heart dropped. Bruce was in line, many feet away from me, from the arcade. He was so far away I could see him as tiny as a thumb. I pushed a leg forward after standing frozen in my tracks. The voice sounded nothing like a ghost, and I followed where it was coming from. 

To my right the arcade had two walls connecting, forming an emergency exit in the corner so dark that you couldn’t see a thing. The workers didn’t think to add a bit of light or something or the glowing exit sign.

All I wanted to hear is Bruce saying in a cheery voice, “Two burgers coming right up!” I couldn’t help picturing who or what just called my attention. The voice sounded so creepy, sounded like a snake. Not one voice I would have dreamed of before knowing Bruce.

“You hanging in there, doll face?” there it was again, the voice asked again in the pitch black corner. “I can beat you in a game of pinball. Just one game.” He sounded like a dealer whispering to you in a dark alley.

I shake my head. Probably some jerk trying to flirt with me and lure me towards him. I did however march towards the dark. I knew how to fend for myself when it came to jerks who try to flirt with me and girls who try to flirt with Bruce. 

“Who are you- mmmmpghh!!

An arm swung around me, the other smashing my face. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t scream for help, for Bruce’s name. A cloth was pressed against my face and they wouldn’t let go. No oxygen, but something else. I felt like I was in a real life horror movie and I knew I wasn’t winning.

“Mmmmpgh!! B-mmmmphh!” Bruce! Help me!

I don’t know how long it takes for someone to pass out from chloroform. But my eyes were shutting and before I blacked out, my body feeling suddenly light, I could see Bruce running towards me but it was far too late.

I woke up and the first thing I notice is the foul smell fuming everywhere, wherever I was. I couldn’t move my hands to even touch my face because they were tied around the arms of a chair.

Great! Either I’m stuck in some unfunny prank pulled by someone I know I’m gonna beat up or get my dad to arrest, or I’m actually in a real life situation of kidnap, in which my dad can take care of as well.

“Bruce?” I wept. “Bruce? Are you there? Anyone?”

There was a slight pause, and then the loud echoes of footsteps clanking slowly toward me, then the sound of maniacal cackling. Light hit the ceiling and my eyes were adjusting the crates, forklifts and boxcars around me. I’m in a warehouse.

But the person who I was with wasn’t Bruce. This wasn’t a prank. How do I know? Because the person who kidnapped me isn’t really much of a pranker, but a wanted psychopath.

“Yes,” Jerome Valeska said. “I’m here.”

I screamed. “My dad is gonna be here soon, as well as my boyfriend, and they’re gonna whoop your ass!” I felt confident, but I didn’t know who was coming or if anyone has any idea where I am.

“But  … I’m your boyfriend,” says Jerome, twirling his finger around as if he thinking.

“Over my dead body! Me being with you is just completely insane!” Bruce and I watched kidnapping movies, and he has been kidnapped before. I haven’t and now I can. I can just imagine and feel how any other victim must of felt.

“Oh doll, you know you don’t belong with that millionaire prince of Gotham. That little brat. Bruce Wayne,” he sneers his name. “You belong … with me!”

“Why me? What do you want with me?” I whimpered.

Jerome smiles. “Where do I begin? For starters, you’re damn beautiful,” he comes too close in contact with my face, hissing in my ear. I shrink in my seat as he tugged my hair. “-secondly, I could use a little twinkie like you-”

I held in my gasp. 

“And THIRD!” he raised his voice. “The nerve of you, my sweet girl, to not come running into my arms! What does Bruce have that I don’t have? Wealth. Love. Y/N.”

My spine held chills when he said my name. How did he even know my name? How did he know I was dating Bruce?

“So there you have it.”

“You are just jealous of Bruce.”

He screams, “You’re mine! You belong with me!”

“You think anyone in Gotham believes that? Because there is such thing as delusion.” I gawked a bit and spat in his face.

He is taken back before licking the saliva and tasting it. I cringe.

“That was strangly pleasant,” he curls his lips in amusement before smirking and coming close to my face again. “Do it again!”

The grey door busts open. 

“Stop!” someone called out. It was like heaven was revealed in front of my eyes. I had so many questions. I saw the boy I loved running towards me and Jerome along with my dad and a few other force members armed with guns running in with yells.

I almost wept.

“She’s not yours, Jerome!” Bruce screams. “You’re busted!”

“Yeah … no- argh!” Jerome was tackled down by a cop before he could say another word.

“You don’t even know the first thing about her,” Bruce sneers watching Harvey Bullock hold Jerome on the floor, handcuffing him. From afar I could still see Jerome staring him down with the nastiest look.

My dad releases me from the restraints and I was so weak that I practically fell in my dad’s arms. “Daddy!” I haven’t called him that ever since I was five. “How did you-”

“Bruce found you.” I landed on my knees and hands and crawled to Bruce as he bent to embrace me.

He sighs, holding me tight. “When I saw you out the theater I followed you, and saw you being carried into a black car so then I got Alfred to call the GCPD to track down the licence plate.”

I didn’t say anything, I just let him hold me as tears prickled in my eyes. I blink them shut before Bruce wiped them away with his sleeve.

“Can I say one thing?” he says.


“I still have the burgers from the snack bar,” Bruce said. “We can still eat them. And I gave the change to your father. He’s kinda mad about the amount you gave up.”

// THE END //

Broken Heart Hugs -Jared x Daughter!Reader

Request:  Hey! I was wondering if I could request a fic where the reader is a teen actress on the show and is having a tough day on set and Jared (her father figure) cheers her up?? Love your writing❤

Word Count: 1084

Warnings: Angst, cheating, fluff

A/N: For @straightasdeanwinchester , hope you like it, because well… it’s for you…

You were an actress, you started acting at only 10 years old and when you were 14 you got your first resident role, on Supernatural. It was a dream come true, mainly because you got a real role, one you were really proud of. And because you gained a new family. The other actors, the crew and even the fans. They loved your character the moment you walked into the scene and owned it the badass teen hunter you were.

The person you became the closest to, however, was Jared Padalecki. He was like your second father. Dad jokes included and he insisted on embarrassing you at conventions, or even just in front of the rest of the cast.

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No Place Like Home... Until Now

Author: zepppie

Word Count: 1002 

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: none

A/N: This short piece is inspired by a true to life story! Happened just last night, hence the state of my brain as seen in my last two posts. Details at the end!

Originally posted by canonspngifs

You’ve heard the stories. You know all about Dean Winchester and what he’s done. In your mind he was a legend. A god, even. Only he and his brother could say they saved the world more than once and mean it literally.

So seeing him come up to your modest little food truck was a huge surprise. One for the books. Dressed in a cheap but effective suit, he spoke into his phone that he held against his ear. “I’m right across the street from you,” he said, “just grabbin’ food. You hungry for something? Alright. Food and then morgue.”

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