rock ammo

Undercover

Based of this anon request:  Can I get a John Winchester imagine? The reader has to go undercover in a revealing outfit & John gets overprotective? Smut?

John x reader

Words: 2402

Warnings: age difference, smut, language, anger, unprotected sex (warp it up!)

Shout-out to the lovely @mrswhozeewhatsis for betaing this!

Tags: @supernaturally-potter @crzcorgi @spnfanficpond @aprofoundbondwithdean @kittenofdoomage @supernatural-jeffrey-dean-morgan @deansdirtywhore @sheeshmish @deandoesthingstome @spnashley


Originally posted by nyehehegan

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d gone shopping for something other than rock salt, ammo or whiskey. It was definitely a nice change from the hunter routine. You admired yourself in the changing room mirror; short, tight dress hugging your body in all the right places, leaving little to the imagination. John had sent you to the nearest town to get an outfit for the night’s hunt after you’d realized you wouldn’t be the best vampire bait in your jeans and flannels, half of which you’d stolen from one or another of the three Winchesters. Happy with your selection, you changed back into your usual clothes, paid up and raced back to the motel where the Winchesters were waiting for you.

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Together

Request: 

  1. 22,37,31,38 with Peter pan plzzzz? If it’s not too much trouble
  2. 39 and 38 with Pan?
  3. Prompt 39 with Peter please?

Prompt(s):

  1. 22. “Waking up next to you is the best thing.”
  2. 31. “You drive me insane!”
  3. 37. “I’m scared of the dark.”
  4. 38. “Show me.”
  5. 39. “I hate you. I really do.”

Warnings: none

“Aim… Fire!” You shouted. Your group of Lost Boys shot their ammo. Small rocks, arrows, and twigs flew in the air. The other half of the Lost Boys shot back. It was a brawl. Well, a game. You were team captain on one team, and Peter was the captain on the other.

Objects flew, boys screamed, and before anyone knew it, it was over. The game lasted longer than everyone thought, but it was so much fun it felt like the game lasted ten minutes.

“Another round, Pan. Let’s beat them this time!” A Lost Boy pleaded.

“No, not today, maybe tomorrow.” Peter pouted. You grinned, leaning onto him.

“Aw, is Peter Pan upset that he lost the game?” You chuckled.

“Don’t push it,” he growled at you. You giggled, nudging him. “I hate you. I really do.”

You grinned, still leaning on him as everyone walked back to camp. “Oh, don’t be like that.” You draped your arms around Peter, giggling. His face stayed in its pouty expression, not fazed by you at all.

You smirked, knowing how to get him to change his pout. You quickly grabbed his chin with one hand, turned his head, and kissed him on the nose. No one knew why, but if you kissed Peter on the nose, he would get all flustered. His face would flush and turn pink, he’d scrunch up his nose as well.

“Ugh,” he groaned. “You drive me insane, Y/N.

You chuckled once again. “You love me though, because if you didn’t, I would’ve been long dead.” 

You skipped off then, catching up with the boys. Peter lowly snarled. It was true. He loved you. He loved you and you loved him, but neither of you knew about it. You would tease him relentlessly in the cutest way, and he would always be rather harsh to you. But he dealt with you. Only because he had feelings for you.


“So, Pan,” you brought up, humming. You were in a hypnotic state since he was playing his flute.

“What is it?” He questioned, stopping the music.

“I bet I can play your fancy flute.” You grinned, giggling.

Peter scoffed at you. No one could play his flute. No one. It wasn’t a well-known instrument, and it was magical. No one could play his flute. 

“Nonsense.”

You smirked. “Yep. I bet I can. I challenge you.”

“Show me.” Peter gave in, never backing down from a challenge. He handed you his flute. You placed it to your lips, blowing softly down the wooden pipes. You played a tune that you knew when you used to play the Pan Flute back home. 

Peter eyed you. He’d no idea you knew how to play. To make it even weirder, your melody made the Lost Boys go ballistic. Their chants got louder, wailing like no tomorrow. They danced around more wildly, feeling a rush. Peter was even beginning to feel something.

“Now, what do you owe me?” You stopped, snickering. 

“You know how to play it! You little snake, you played me,” he accused.

You rolled your eyes at him. “Don’t be too surprised. It’s not like you bet anything.”

Peter snatched his instrument back from you, glaring. He began playing again, but you stayed by his side. You stayed by him until the large fire went out. Then it was bed time. But you had another plan in mind.

You were tired of never moving any further with Peter. You wanted to see what would happen if you asked to stay with him. That would be your reward for winning the small challenge. 

“Hey, uh, P-Peter?” You stammered as the fire went out completely and it was dark. “How about for my reward for winning that challenge, um, I stay with you?”

“Stay with me? Why would you ever want that?” Peter stiffened, trying to find your silhouette.

“I’m scared of the dark?” You shrugged your shoulders, making it sound like a question.

“You’ve never had a problem with it before,” he pressed. You groaned, walking towards his voice.

“Just let me stay with you! For tonight.” You argued. You bumped into him, him holding onto your arms. It was silent for a moment.

“Erm…” He grumbled. “Fine.”

You smiled in victory. Peter took you to his treehouse. You’d never been inside of it before, so you were excited. It was cozier than expected, and bigger. It was warm and bright with the light on. You couldn’t help but jump on his bed.

“Watch it, Scaredy Pants.” He whined. “Just climb in and… go to sleep.”

You did just that. You crawled under his covers, Peter climbing in as well. You snuggled up to him. He had to like you back since he let you get this far. He just had to. Little did you know, actual butterflies were swarming in Peter’s stomach. In Cruel Peter, there were flutters.

“Don’t be so tense, Peter. It’s okay.”

“I like it when you call me Peter.” He said, nearly cutting you off. You blushed, and Peter finally put his arm around you. His body loosened. 

You both closed your eyes then, comfortable. You stayed nuzzled into Peter, taking his scent. You grinned, content.


When you awoke, you felt Peter stroking your hair. His eyes were closed, but it was clear he was awake. 

“Morning,” he greeted, voice raspy.

“Morning,” you grinned, peeking your eyes open. “Waking up next to you is the best thing. You know that?” 

“Is it? The best thing? One night, and it’s determined that I’m the best thing to see in the morning? I like the sound of that.” He smirked, getting cocky.

“Don’t get cocky, but yes,” you giggled. “I like you.”

His hand was still in your hair, playing with it. “I like you, too.”

You squealed quietly to yourself, but Peter heard. Flutters erupted in your stomach. You looked up at Peter who was already looking at you. 

“Then can we stay in bed for a while longer? Cuddle and stuff?” Peter nodded his head, agreeing. He stopped playing with your hair, taking your hand in his. Once again, you closed your eyes.

nilsace  asked:

I THINK YOU WERE EXPECTING ME~ Valdangelo with a side of No. 067 (snow)

Sorry I’ve been missing in action for a while, I had some rl stuff to do. I don’t think this is my best work but ugh have it.

067: Snow

Leo crouches behind a large rock, a small pile of snowballs by his feet and one in his hand. He’s really not into the cold, not since all that shit went down with Khione, but today is an exception.

Today, Nico di Angelo is in camp.

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