you were only waiting for this moment to be free

Shall We Test That? (Loki/Thor x reader)

Request: phantomsmenace said: hi bonnie! i was wondering if you could write one where during the events of the first avengers movie where Loki tries to protect you while everything is going on? either romantic or platonic? thank you!! 

“It’s an impressive cage. Not built, I think, for me.”

Loki heard Fury reply to his taunting, but he didn’t hear the words from his mouth.  In fact, he barely knew what he, himself, had just said. He was simply buying time, waiting for the moment when the Hulk would take center stage against a team that was barely his own, and when Loki could be free to make his escape.  He didn’t care at all about anyone on this floating fortress other than one; he only cared about where they were holding you and how he would reach you.  If his connection to Barton was holding, the archer would already be following his orders to retrieve you and keep you safe.

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Opposites Attract

Originally posted by mystarsandmoonhao


One of the best things about your relationship with Seokmin was your seemingly endless amount of differences. Seokmin was loud and funny, you were quiet and not exactly a laugh riot. Seokmin was outgoing and could converse with a brick wall if he needed to, you were introverted and could barely hold a conversation with someone you knew. Seokmin was very expressive about his feelings, you were more reserved.

The saying ‘opposites attract’ couldn’t have created a better example than the two of you.

Somehow, despite your differences, the two of you worked well together. You made one another happy and you kept one another grounded. You provided that much needed balance for each other and you both continually thanked the universe that you were somehow brought together.

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Okay, so this thing really snowballed. I read over it this morning and did some minor editing, but I don’t hate it which is a good thing I guess.

All I wanted was some Astrid taking care of Hiccup for a change plus leading the Dragon Riders because he can’t. Anyway…

I hope you enjoy it, I’ve posted it below the cut because it’s loooong. You can also read it here.

Hiccup pushes himself too hard after the events of the season finale and winds up sick. Astrid is torn between looking after him and leading the dragon riders against the last of the dragon hunters.

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Melomaniac (m)

» one who is passionate about music.


Words: 11,191 (i’m sorry)

Genre: Smut, punk!jeon by night, school prep boy!jeon by day.

Summary: “Your mother had always warned you about boys in ripped jeans and messy hair but she never warned you about boys like Jeon Jungkook.”

A/N: Idk what this is I’m so sorry but @thedamfangirls @lovelymims @helloblamebts 

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Sneak peek at the JayTim one-shot I’m working on for jaytimweek!


“Sometimes I think you want to eat me,” Jason said, examining a mark on his stomach, still wet from Tim’s mouth. It was purple and red and pretty, and soft around the edges; a flower petal blown off the stem during a rainstorm, clinging damply to Jason’s skin.  

Tim didn’t answer. Instead, he bent his head down over one of the scars near Jason’s hipbone and bit down.

“Jesus,” Jason huffed out, bookended by a curse word or two. Something vulgar that made his pouty lips look indelicate in the handsome cut of his face.

“Does that mean you want me to stop?” Tim’s lips ghosted over one of Jason’s nipples.

It was a rare, lazy Sunday morning, an entire day free of responsibilities waiting for them beyond the bedroom door. When Jason had woken up, Tim had already been waiting for him, watching for the moment his breathing changed.

Now, Jason’s body jerked under the ticklish, teasing pressure. Tim felt Jason’s hands flutter for a moment to hover over the back of his head, only to fall helplessly to the bed sheets. “No.”

When Tim glanced up, Jason’s head was thrown back and the tendons in his neck were straining against soft, dewy skin. Watching Jason like this was Tim’s favorite thing, a narrow opening into the locked pleasures of Jason’s mind; a sliver of blue moonlight spilling into an empty bedroom.    

“Beautiful,” Tim huffed between the valley of Jason’s collarbones.

A startled gasp.

Tim lifted his head fully to stare at Jason’s half-lidded eyes. In answer, he brought his hands up, soft palms and callused fingers, to cup the sides of Tim’s face. Thumbs stroked over Tim’s cheekbones, making his skin warm.

“What do you want?” Tim asked, ducking his head so he could rub his lips against Jason’s wrist.  

Ordinarily, Tim considered himself a reasonable, practical person. The mundanities of his daily persona wrapped up tightly in a sharp-looking suit, rigid manners and tightly contained boredom. Yes, to this investment. No to lunch in Park West, even with the view of Gotham River and the surrounding highrises. Push the level 20 elevator button to his top-floor office; push ground when it was time to leave.    

But he’d learned something new about himself these past few months. The carefully constructed control he’d painstakingly built over the years was dust in the wind of Jason’s hitched breaths.

“I want…,” Jason sighed, pulling Tim’s face closer to capture his lips briefly. “You could do anything.”

Jason’s voice was a lightning strike on Tim’s body. He yielded to Jason’s kiss until the words blossomed into something too sweet and dangerous to name, leaving the taste of smoke on his tongue.

Tim moved down the bed until he was between Jason’s legs. He ran his palms up and down the powerful muscles of Jason’s thighs, stirring the light dusting of downy hair.

“Anything, he says,” Tim mocked softly, his hands stilling on Jason’s knees, his lips skimming the taunt, thin skin just below Jason’s bellybutton. “Where’s your sense of self preservation?”

“With that mouth?” Jason laughed, the sound sliding like warm honey down Tim’s spine. “I’d be stupid to give you less.”

Tim smiled, settling down more comfortably between Jason’s legs. He could still remember the first time they’d done this, hurried and frantic, both too desperate for it to even fully undress. You’re lips are going to ruin me, Jason had said against his mouth. You ruin me completely.

When Tim pulled back the thin white comforter from his waist, Jason was wonderfully naked. His cock was hard, thick and pretty, curved against one hip.  

“Anything,” Tim repeated, pretending to think. Pretending like he hadn’t already imagined forty different ways to fuck Jason since his first opened his eyes, each passing thought more intoxicating than that last.

“I have some ideas,” Jason volunteered, his voice low and promising. “If you’re having a hard time.”

“Would that turn you on?” Tim asked, sliding his palms further up Jason’s thighs. “Me doing whatever you say?”

Jason’s strong fingers twisted gently in Tim’s hair. “I’m already turned on.”

“I noticed.”

“Very perceptive, Detective.” Jason stretched, trying to bring his hips back into contact with Tim’s heat. “Gonna read me my rights next?”

“Why?” Tim asked, before his mouth found the soft skin on Jason’s inner thigh. “Have you been bad?”

Freedom (Tig x Reader)

Request: sad Tig x reader?

You watched as he laughed with the boys at the bar. You were going to miss everything about this place. From the boy’s mugshots to all of the sluty croweathers hanging around. It’s not like you planned it this way, it was just that you couldn’t take it anymore. The late nights waiting for your man to come home that never bother to show up was getting to you. Also that he would barely even look at you anymore. In the past month you really only talk to Tig once and it was about a club party. Putting away the last few bottles at the bar, you slowly took one last look at the place. This club meant everything to you over the last few years but now it was coming to an end.

Saying goodbye to the boys for the day as they thought, you made sure to kiss your old man on the cheek before you left. You always did even if Tig barely noticed and just went on with his conversion like he always seemed to do. You let out a sigh as you made your way to your parked car. Gemma shouted from her office not to forget about the dinner at her house tomorrow as you took the day off for your plan. Smiling and shouted back that you would never miss it, she waved and you were all set to go home.

You rushed into your house with all of the boxes in hand, making sure that no one saw. If anyone saw an old lady on the run the first thing they would do is tell the club. The town feared them so they wouldn’t just let something like this slide. You didn’t need anyone at the moment ruining this for you. Packing all of your things, you made sure to leave the gifts behind that Tig gave you over the course of your relationship, not needing a reminder that wasn’t memories. When it hit dark outside in Charming you had everything packed and ready to go. Loading your car up set a feeling inside of you that you couldn’t quite get. But as you made your way passed the Charming sign you fully understood what it was. Freedom. The weight of the club and your broken relationship was finally gone and now you were free.

“TIG” Gemma shouted as she saw the curly hair man walked over to his bike. He looked at her waiting for her to go on with it. “Can you go remind your old lady about dinner? I think she might have forgotten since I told her yesterday, she isn’t picking up her phone.” Gemma thought for a moment “Have you heard from her?”

“No sorry Gem, I’ll go get her” Gemma nodded her head happily and made her way back to her office. Tig wouldn’t tell her that the only time he actually saw you lately had been at the clubhouse when you were working. He hasn’t been home in over month with all of the stress from the club he rather just stay there. Not bringing home any of the drama seemed like the right choice or as he thought. Pulling out of the lot, Tig was pretty happy to actually to be going home to you.

Disappointment washed over Tig’s face as he pulled up seeing your car gone. He thought that you were already gone to Gemma’s but was given his answer when he walked into the house. It felt different the minute he opened the door. Not really knowing why, Tig took out his gun getting ready to shoot if needed. Slowly making his way in he noticed everything was in it’s place. Still on alert he went to your guys bedroom. The gun hit the floor with a bang as he entered. His jaw dropped as he looked around the room, everything you owned was gone. Speechless, he didn’t know what to do. Where did you go? He knew that he hasn’t been the best man around lately but he didn’t think it would come to this. Grabbing a bottle of whiskey from the bottom drawer he laid on the bed, taking in your scent from your side. Tears fell from his eyes but he didn’t bother to wiped them. You were gone and Tig knew you weren’t coming back.

All eyes were Tig as he entered Gemma’s and Clay’s house stumbling. Clay quicking went over to him making sure he wouldn’t hurt himself. No one truly knew what was going on, only that Tig was half drunk in the kitchen but they all knew it was something bad when Tig broke down crying. He was never one for tears. Gemma made her way over the broken man with the others behind her, leaning down to him her heart broke at the slight.

“Tig baby, what’s wrong?” Tig didn’t answer just kept crying, wishing he brought the bottle of whiskey with him more than ever. “Tig did something happen?” still no answer just tears so Gemma try something, knowing where he came from. “Did you have a fight Y/N?” You weren’t here so Gemma knew it was something with you two but just didn’t know what. Tig cried harder at the sound of your name.

“She umm..” Tig was at a lost for words but managed to get out with a hoarse voice “Y/N left me” Tig looked up at everyone who now had shocked looked across their face.

“Honey how do-” Tig cut Gemma off and started to speak

“Her stuff is all gone and her phone is disconnect Gem, I knew I wasn’t good enough but I never thought she would leave without saying goodbye.” Tig brawled into Gemma chest not knowing how to get rid of the pain he felt. The clubs eyes were on their broken brother, they didn’t know that you guys weren’t alright and they wonder how come. They knew they needed to find you to fix this but if you didn’t want to be found, could they find you? Anger filled the room from what you had done. As Tig cry from pain everyone got to work to make sure you would be coming home. But Tig knew and so did Gemma as she also let tears fall. You weren’t coming home, you left this life for a reason and never looked back.

jungkook scenario | make me blush

I know I’ve kissed you like, ten times, but just like another ten, please. >> Jungkook
requested by anon
drabble // fluff // 400 words

“I know I’ve kissed you like, ten times, but just like another ten, please.”

These are the words that Jungkook breathes against your lips - his follow up to your first kiss… which led on to nine more to make up for lost time.

A laugh slips from you, breathy, heady, unable to draw away from him, all you can do is murmur, “Only ten more?”

He scrunches his nose, bumping it against yours, as he tries to get closer, as if arms pressed to arms, your thighs curved around his, sandwiched together in the back seat of his car… as if that isn’t enough, like he wants to be closer still, all points of contact sparking curious new sensations. That’s what you hope he’s feeling, because it’s what’s happening to you. You want more, more, more. Having chosen to open… whatever this is, it’s now impossible to close it – you wouldn’t be satisfied with anything else.

You have to ask: why were you so hesitant before? Saying: “No, Jungkook, we can’t kiss now, not here. I want our first kiss to be special.”

And then when he leaned in, ready to chance his luck anyway, you’d push him away, giggling like a school girl, and he’d echo you, and you’d collapse against each other.

“Alright,” he’d say, “No kissing… not on the lips, at least.”

You’d nod.

“Well then, I guess you won’t mind this?” And he’d kiss your forehead, your nose, your chin… but he’d keep your lips free, because they were waiting for the right time and place.

Except, now, here - in the backseat of his car - is not the right time or place. It isn’t the romantic moment you’d imagined: enjoyed under the light of a million stars, out in the open - slow, sweet, steady.

But you couldn’t wait anymore. He had fallen against your lips, and you had responded the only way your body could – you’d reciprocated, searching, starving. And you realised, it didn’t need to be special, set up just right like a scene from a movie. If it was with Jungkook, that was enough… better than enough.

So you let him kiss you ten times more.

And then another ten.

A/N: A little short something in between the longer fics I’m working on <3

Please feel free to request more prompts from this –> list

Fandom Writing Challenge | qveenbradbury
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean/Cas (Sam/Jess)
Prompt: Letters
Word Count: 1,353
Author’s Note: In British English, the phrase ‘luck out’ means to run out of luck but in American English, it means to be extremely lucky. In this, we’re using American English.

“Uncle Dean!” A delighted squeal rings across his classroom and Castiel looks up just in time to see Mary Winchester hurl herself into the arms of a tall, gorgeous man.

“Hey, kiddo,” the man – Dean – greets, putting Mary down on her feet. “I missed you too.”

As soon as Mary’s back on the floor, she’s dragging her uncle towards Castiel’s desk, telling Dean that he has to meet Mr. Novak.

“And I wrote you a letter in class,” Mary tells her uncle proudly.

“Really?” Dean asks, holding her little hand, eyes filled with adoration. “Well, I can’t wait to read it.”

As he shakes Dean’s hand and gives Mary the letter she wrote (appropriately covered in glitter and stickers), Castiel absently thinks that the Winchester family definitely lucked out in the genetic lottery.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts when Gordon puts glue in Ava’s hair and, as he inspects the damage and reprimands Gordon, he (mostly) forgets about Dean Winchester.

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Best Friend Getting Married

Pushing the last hair grip into her hair, you stood back and sighed until she revealed her glowing face to you. You then smiled. Grinned at her, at the thought of her getting married to the one that she’s been dreaming of marrying when she laid eyes on him at high school. High school sweethearts you could say.
They were definitely one of the most cutest couples you’ve ever seen, and you couldn’t be more happier for your best friend. Ah, she’s changed into the most beautiful woman, with a strong, kind heart, and a sweet soul. Ever since we were kids, she’s always thought about having the “the one” for the rest of her life and it looks like she finally is.

You wiped a tear that had fallen that didn’t give you a warning because you know you were going to be leaving the room in buckets of tears.

That’s when you realised she had a tear escaping but you didn’t let her cry, with her makeup that would be ruined. You searched on the dressing table for tissues that you had brought with you and as you found them you carefully took and handed it to her so she could dab her eyes before they got too wet.

Your best friend sighed, “Oh boy the ceremony hasn’t even begun and here I am getting all teary eyed.” She said with a shaky voice. You giggled at her before sitting next to her and placing an arm around her shoulder, pulling her in for a side hug.

You had thought for a while for what you were about to say to her before she gets married.

“You do know you have been a true sister to me all my life, right? Everything that you would do would always be right in the end. Thank you for taking care of my ups and downs even though you didn’t have to help me. You would always know what to say when I come over to yours whenever I was upset, especially when I get into an argument with Harry.”

You took one of her hands and looked into her blue eyes.

“Just want to say, thank you. Thank you for being a true friend, a sister, my family. I, really don’t know what I would do without you. And I’m so glad you’ve become a part of my life. And seeing you at this special moment in life, I just…” You trailed off, before tears rolled down your smooth face. You didn’t care if the makeup was running too, you just needed to let it all out.

“Oh babe, stop please don’t make me cry as well” Your best friend said in response to your tears.

“I’m gonna save the rest of the speech till later at the reception. Just remember that I love you and that I can’t wait for you to start a chapter, a family, and join families with ours too.” You smiled contentedly at that thought. Your best friend grinned back at you,

“Oh tell me about it, when we have children I just can’t wait to take them all round your house so the kids will play, and both our husbands would be talking, God knows what, and we’ll bake cakes and cook and…” She dreamed of this moment and so did you. You couldn’t wait.

You were about to say something in return before you were interrupted by the creaks of the huge door which only revealed a tiny boy behind it. It was your son dressed so smartly. You tried to make a hairstyle for him but his curls wanted to be free, so you let his hair frame his cute face.

His eyes were wide and he was almost afraid to come in, like he interrupted something serious. You smiled at him and waved him over.

“Hey sweetie, is everything okay?” You asked him while he walked over with flowers in his hands. You picked him up and let him rest on your hip, before handing these gorgeous flowers to your best friend as a small gift.

He nodded, “Yes mummy, I’ve brought my auntie a present.” She gasped and delicately took the flowers away from his fingers and thanked him before kissing him on the cheek.

You’re the only man so far who’s brought me a present on my wedding day” she laughs and continues, “Thank you so much, Y/S/N, I’ll keep these forever!”

Y/S/N giggled at her before looking at me. You smiled at him for showing that lovely gesture to her. Time had passed in the dressing room, before it was time for Y/B/N to leave this church as a wife.

“It’s time…”

You smoothed down your pastel pink dress that was beautifully done. You also adjusted your son’s bow tie, before he walked down the aisle as the pageboy. The organs filled the church with everyone rising up from their seats to see the beautiful bride walk down. You carefully had your eye on Y/S/N with the valuable rings he was carrying towards the alter where you saw her partner that was going to be with her for the rest of his life. You saw him trying not to cry in front of everyone, it was so obvious by the tears brimming ready to fall any second.

As you walked near the front, you caught your eye on your husband. There he was. Dressed in his black and white coat suit however he left a few top buttons open for a little peak of his tattoos. It was enough for your Y/D/N to trace it with her fingers as a distraction instead of crying and wailing in church. She would also ask her dad why on earth he would have this many tattoos. But she liked it because she’s always fascinated by the drawings.

Harry was holding your daughter by resting her on his hip, and as soon as you reached the front, you glanced at them and saw their grins on their faces as they saw you and your son walking down. He winked at you, causing your cheeks to turn red and hoping the crowd doesn’t notice.

You and Y/S/N joined him at your family’s pew. “You look so beautiful love.” You felt like Harry spoke for the first time to you today, as you were getting Y/B/N ready this morning. He knew what he was doing because your cheeks turned red even more. As soon as you were about to say something, you saw Y/D/N becoming restless in Harry’s arms. She would squirm, she would try and get Harry’s attention by pushing herself out of his arms.

“Uh oh, I think she’s wanting to try and sleep” as you saw Y/D/N opening her small mouth to let out a cry. The church was pure silent with just the Priest talking however Y/D/N’s voice became distinct. You tried shushing her gently and patting her back before her tone gradually went down because of what Harry was doing. He gave her funny faces that lit up her face. It was always enough to make her smile. Then later, she began to climb out of Harry’s arms and crawled her way to the alter. Harry’s eyes widened before getting up and quickly lifting her from the floor and coming back to his seat.

"You’ve been very restless today princess…” He said to her in his gentle tone. You smiled at them both. It was just like the moment when you gave birth to Y/D/N and asked Harry if he wanted to hold her. His words to her were, “You are going to spoil me princess with your cries and constant whining. I’m going to treat you like a princess because you are a princess and you’re mine.”

You were reminiscing that moment and probably will for the rest of your life. You even grinned so bad at Harry.

"What, love?” He smiled back at you.

"Nothing, I love you.” You whispered. Even those words surprised you till to this day and even Harry as he revealed his dimples, showing them off in his smile.

"And I love you” he held your hand and rested it on his thigh. You felt him lift your hand to his lips before placing a gently kiss, to your ring finger. Y/D/N was reaching out for you, noticing that you were there even though it’s been several minutes. You tickled Y/D/N lightly before placing an arm around your handsome little boy next to you. You loved your family and you couldn’t wait for Y/B/N to start one.

Yeah that was crap for a first one but hey there’s many more to come.


Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to be free.

Blackbird fly, blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night.

Blackbird fly, blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
You were only waiting for this moment to arise

Art: Lili in Antelope Valley 🦅
📸 By: Cole Mitchell Sprouse

I’ll Be Good - Part 4

Masterlist  -  Series Masterlist  -  Part 3  -  Part 5

Summary: Series - You’re an old colleague of Natasha’s who finds herself face to face with the Winter Soldier on the wrong end of an Avengers’ op. Chapter - Bucky goes behind Steve’s back to release you, and you use your new freedom to finally relax.

Warnings: Swearing. Wow that’s it!

Word Count: 1542

Author’s Note: Okaaay I don’t know about this one, guys. I’m in agony right now. Parts 1-3 were all one fell swoop of inspiration but this feels like jumping off a cliff. A new side to reader because let’s be honest, nobody’s on their A game all the time. But don’t worry, you’ll be back to fucking shit up in no time.

Bucky walked in front of you, silent and swift, leading the way through endless corridors. The technology around you was impressive. Nat must love it here, you thought with a wistful smile, technology was always her thing. We could really do some damage together with resources like this… The smile faded as quickly as it had come. Maybe once. A long time ago.

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senkiiri-main  asked:

I've recently found your blog and everything is written so well~ Keep it up! :D Can I ask for a scenario of the Vongola reacting to finding their crush's sketchbook (who also secretly like them) that has sketches of them in it?

Thank you !! Glad you like the blog! (:

Sawada Tsunayoshi

           Stretching in his seat and then standing up, Tsuna sighed relievedly as students began filing out of the classroom. Another mediocre day of school was over; the only thing keeping him from calling it “horrid” was the fact that you sat in front of him.

           As he wistfully glanced at your desk, he noticed that you had left behind a plain, tan notebook. Instantly, he identified it as your art book, full of papers that always had beautiful sketches. Tsuna had only glanced at it once or twice before when he passed by you, hunched over the notebook and carefully pondering over where to place the next stroke of your pen.

           Taking a deep breath, Tsuna picked up the notebook and turned it over in his hands thoughtfully as he started to leave the room.

           He wondered if he should be the one to return it to you… After all, he sort of really had a crush on you, and he didn’t trust himself to be able to properly give it back without committing some horrendous blunder in front of you. What if he tripped and ran into you or dropped the notebook? Tsuna didn’t want to look like a fool.

           Then again, he’d never really talked to you before, and maybe this could be his chance to make it known that he was interested in you.

           Completely lost in his thoughts, the brunette didn’t notice where he was walking, and his shoe ended up catching the leg of one of the desks he was passing by.

           “Uwaah!” yelped Tsuna as he fell forward, the notebook flying out of his hands. He really didn’t trust himself at this point…

           It landed with a loud slap as he managed to stop himself from falling face-first to the floor. Just as Tsuna opened his eyes (he always ended up closing them whenever he was falling), he was shocked to see himself on the pages of your notebook.

           There were different sketches of him, one of him sleeping against his school desk, another of him pensively looking out the window, and the last of him with his brows furrowed as he stared at some of his books.

           Tsuna could feel his cheeks heating up, and he hurriedly snatched the notebook up and shut it, his heart beating faster in his chest.

           Okay, so maybe he really did have a chance with you. Someone who didn’t like him wouldn’t have sketched him, right?

Gokudera Hayato

           “Thanks for helping me out.” Gokudera held back the smile that was about to contort his face, and instead, he left his typical, indifferent expression up as you grinned at him. “You’re really smart! I’m pretty sure I’ll ace that chemistry test, no problem!”

           The silver-haired teen kept his lips set in a scowl, and he rolled his eyes while ignoring your compliment. “Tch. You’ll be fine.”

           “I wish I was doing better in [worst subject] though,” you remarked with a frown.

           Gokudera raised his eyebrows and then shook his head. “You would if you weren’t spending so much time not paying attention.” His gaze instinctively landed on your sketchbook, which he had seen you drawing in during class too many times for him to remember. Even though he’d always noticed you were drawing, he had never actually seen any of your works.

           You protested, “Hey! It’s not my fault it’s so boring.”

           “Yeah, yeah,” muttered Gokudera, trying hard to ignore the pout that was on your face. He really didn’t like how his mind wasn’t fully present whenever he was around you.

           There was silence between the two of you as you handed Gokudera his books and he picked up the notebooks he had brought.

           “See you at school tomorrow, Gokudera-kun.” You waved at him shortly and stood up as he opened the door to your room.        

           “Yeah.” He turned back for a second and glanced at you from the corners of his eyes.

           Just as he shut the door, you breathed out a sigh. You were sure if he had stared at you like that for any longer your face would have erupted in a storm of pink.

           When Gokudera arrived home, he began organizing his books and notebooks carefully, only to be confused as to why there was a plain brown spiralbound book on his desk. Wait a second, he’d seen this before…

           Shit, he had grabbed your sketchbook.

           After a few moments of internal panicking and cursing, Gokudera calmed himself and stared at the sketchbook on his desk.

           What was it that you were always drawing anyway?

           Letting his curiosity run free, Gokudera absently started to flick through your sketchbook, but he immediately stopped when he saw a very familiar face with very familiar eyes staring right back at him.

           “What the—” sputtered the silver-haired bomber as he snapped the sketchbook shut. He was not expecting to see a well-drawn image of himself.

           Heartrate skyrocketing, Gokudera leaned back against his chair and breathed slowly. Okay, well, that definitely had been a surprise. His curiosity was getting the better of him, however, and he flipped back to the page with the picture of his face.

           He would never tell you, but he was in awe of your art style. It really did look like him, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and his eyes glaring at something off to the side. Was that the word “cool” written at the bottom of the page?!

           Gokudera wondered how he was going to give the sketchbook back to you tomorrow. He was not really looking forward to having to confess his feelings, but maybe you would do that first…

Yamamoto Takeshi

           The baseball player stretched as he waited in line at the bread vending machine. He was a bit tired from morning practice, but some milk and melon bread would definitely wake him up.

           “Yeah, that sounds great!” Cheerful laugher followed, and Yamamoto blinked as he looked around.

           When he spotted you with your friends ahead of him in line, he smiled softly. Yeah, maybe your laughter would wake him up too. He wasn’t quite sure when he had realized he had a crush on you, but all he knew was that he felt a lot better when you were near him.

           Yamamoto was aware that he probably had a really ridiculous grin on his face by the time it was his turn to buy something, but he didn’t care. As he collected his melon bread, he turned to leave, only to see a notebook standing against the foot of the machine.

           Picking it up, Yamamoto instantly recognized the familiar sketchbook in his hands. He supposed that you had left it while you were collecting all your drinks and snacks with your friends.

           Since he knew what class you were in, he might as well give it back to you, he supposed. As Yamamoto took a flight of stairs down, he couldn’t help looking at the first page of your sketchbook, despite his better judgment. He was curious.

           “Eh?” Yamamoto blinked confusedly when he saw his face on the paper.

           Instead of wondering why he was drawn in your sketchbook, all Yamamoto could do was admire the beauty of your art. Each line seemed to have been light and fleeting, though as he continued to stare, he could see how your expertise pulled them all together into a stunning image.

           Yamamoto smiled. You were really talented, weren’t you?

           He might have just fallen in love with you even more.  

Sasagawa Ryohei

           Ryohei was curious, he had to admit as he held your sketchbook in one of his hands. Kyoko was in your class, and she had given him the artbook to return since you and Ryohei were both in sports clubs after school. You were on the tennis team, and because the courts were near his boxing club’s facilities, Kyoko had advised him to give you your notebook back. She suggested to him to do so with a bright smile, not at all indicating that she knew about her brother’s crush and was harboring any ulterior motives.

           The third-year was a bit nervous about nearing you at all since you were his crush and all. He’d never had a crush before, and he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to act around them. At some point during training that day, he had wished that Kyoko had just given you the sketchbook, but then he shook his head.

           “I’ll extremely give it to them!”

           He had waited until after clubs were finished to return your notebook, and as he was making his way to the courts, he couldn’t help glancing down at the book’s cover. He was inquisitive. You were so talented at sports, he wondered if you were also good at art.

           Carefully, the boxer had flipped open your sketchbook and seen drawings of plants and books and the interior of a sports shop. However, once he turned the third page, he saw the boxing club room, and not only that, but himself as well, as he trained.

           “HUH?” Ryohei stared more closely at the paper to make sure it really was him.

           Yup, it was him.

           Ryohei felt a silly smile grow on his face as he read the note at the bottom of the page. “Sasagawa-san looking cool when he boxes!”

           He just gained a lot more confidence about approaching you now.

Hibari Kyouya

           “Kyou-san, here are the confiscated items we collected today,” Kusakabe told the head prefect as he placed a number of objects on the table in front of Hibari.

           “Hn.” Hibari made a noise of acknowledgement as Kusakabe left the room. As Hibari examined what was in the stack, he hummed in questioning upon seeing your sketchbook. There was no way it wasn’t, with its familiar pale brown cover and your name neatly written in one of the corners.

          The first thought that ran through Hibari’s head was about why one of your belongings would even be in the pile of appropriated goods. You were an excellent student who abided by the rules, was studious, and never made much of a ruckus. Perhaps that was why Hibari had taken a liking to you.

          However, maybe there was some defiling and inappropriate information inside your artbook?

          Hibari found himself proven wrong.

          He wasn’t sure how he felt about seeing his face in your sketchbook, all the lines composing his face precise and sharp. There was a certain predatory glint that you had captured in his eyes, and Hibari subconsciously tilted his head in amusement. He had immediately gotten over the surprise of a sketch of himself, and he was instead wondering what he would do about you.

          Oh? So you observed him that much?

          Hibari planned to make full use of this situation. You did like him, in some way, didn’t you? The Disciplinary Committee’s head smirked as he shut your sketchbook and stood up. According to what he remembered of your schedule, Hibari knew you had afterschool kendo.

           He’d pay you a visit all right.

           Today, he was going to make his presence known to you and that you had caught his eye.

           Hibari’s smirk widened.


           Lambo entered the room for detentions and sat down, undoubtedly annoyed that he had to be punished for something that wasn’t really his fault.

           It was the teacher’s fault for being so boring that he had fallen asleep in the middle of math class.

           Huffing a bit dramatically, the teen grumbled and stared out the window, and he didn’t notice that the teacher on duty had approached him.

           “Here. Since you’re friends with [Last Name]-san, return this to them. They left it here last time.” The teacher handed Lambo a sketchbook, and the student nodded.

           Lambo was about to put the sketchbook into his bag when he saw a piece of stray paper poking out from between the bound pages. “Hm?”

           Pulling the paper out, he held in the surprised noise that threatened to escape his lips. Lambo looked at the teacher, and once he saw that the woman was preoccupied, he placed the sheet onto his desk and stared.

           It was his own face—or lots of faces. Every one of them had a different emotion, and Lambo found himself in utter astonishment at your artistic abilities. You’d drawn his sleepy expression in a certain way that Lambo was sure that you had seen him fall asleep in class before. He hadn’t known that you’d drawn him though.

           With a small smile blooming on his face, Lambo carefully placed the paper back between the pages of other sketches in your notebook.

           He’d never had someone draw him before, and he could only say that he felt very special.

           This was just another reason why he loved you, he supposed.

Rokudo Mukuro

           “Oh?” Mukuro mused as he held up a black notebook, its spirals a contrasting silver. You’d been the one who had told him to help clean up the “living room” at Kokuyo a bit, and here you were leaving your things around. (To be fair, there was a generous share of his trash along with Ken’s in the area. Not like he would admit that to you though.)

           Mukuro knew that you were an artist, and you always had pens tucked behind your ear or pencils in your pockets and your sketchbook near at hand. He’d tried so many times to see what you were drawing, but somehow, you’d always managed to snap your sketchbook shut whenever he was near you. Even using illusions, he had failed. He did feel a bit irked that you’d never let him see your drawings.

           He couldn’t help it. He was flipping through your sketchbook before he knew it.

           The smirk on his face began to fade when he saw his figure neatly sketched out on a page. As Mukuro looked at the drawing of himself, his trident in hand and his eyes gleaming with a mischievousness you had captured so well on paper. Once he had gotten over the initial shock of seeing himself sketched, Mukuro’s lips turned upwards.

           “Kufufu…” He was amused.

           So, he wasn’t aimlessly in love with you.

           Perhaps his crush wasn’t hopeless, and perhaps, it wasn’t unrequited love.

           Mukuro let his smirk grow. He wasn’t going to tell you that he’d seen your drawings, but he was going to find a way to confirm his suspicions.

           He wanted to love you, and he needed to know if you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

Dokuro Chrome

           “Eh?” Chrome looked at the sketchbook that was sitting at her desk after you had returned to your classroom. She supposed you had forgotten it during your hasty departure when the bell had rung, signaling the end of lunch.

           The sketchbook was flipped open to a page already, and Chrome couldn’t help glancing down at the paper despite trying not to look. She was pleasantly surprised to find that a drawing of herself filled the entire page.

           Another short noise of shock left Chrome’s lips as she closed the sketchbook and glanced around nervously. She had never had anyone draw her before, let alone in such a beautiful manner. The way that you had shaded her hair, a shine to it that seemed almost unreal, and the way that you had taken the time to address the details of her eyepatch made Chrome blush.

           She’d never known that you had drawn anything of her… She had never really considered herself to be that beautiful, so she was stunned to see that you had found her to be.

           Chrome shook her head and placed the sketchbook in her bag without looking at it again. She wasn’t supposed to look through your things, and she felt a bit guilty. Biting her lip, she wondered if she should tell you or not.

           As she wondered if she should, another thought pushed its way into her mind. Perhaps she should tell you how she felt as well, or would that give away her having looked in your sketchbook?

           Taking out her own pencils and notebook, Chrome focused on her work. One day, she would find out if you liked her the way that she liked you. She was all right with waiting.

Find Him (Percival Graves x Reader)

Word Count: 1759

In the midst of the hustle and bustle that was the hasty reparation of a large portion of New York, it seemed that any concern for the actual Percival Graves had been swept under the rug. People were busy; busy making repairs, busy obliviating any no-maj that had seen the slightest hint of magic, busy filling in all of the paper work that surrounded an ordeal like this – and there had never been an ordeal like this. It had become increasingly difficult to get a word in edge-ways around the president – understandable given all she was overseeing – but you knew that she must have been thinking about Graves’ fate just as much as you were. What worried you, however, was the possibility that she may have just accepted a fate that you yourself were not about to accept. All you could do for a long time was write to her, and do your own investigation on the side in the hope that you would be able to catch anything that looked remotely like a lead, but you never had the time to grasp onto anything solid. You were an auror, though even in Graves’ absence you weren’t exactly at the top, so anything you had to say was not the priority of anyone above yourself. If you ever had a free moment, they were occupied by your daydreaming as your recalled fond memories, and the subsequent suppression of floods of tears.

Forcing yourself not to shake any more than might be acceptable for a woman on her first day of work at MACUSA, you waited for the young man you were told would meet you and show you around so that your first day wouldn’t be so daunting. He was late, but you kept reminding yourself, ‘this is an important place, these people are important people’, he probably had a good reason for being late. When he finally arrived, each of his hands was occupied by a large cup of coffee; one was for you, and you didn’t know you needed it until it was handed to you and you found comfort in the warmth of it. Now with a free hand, he shook your only free one, and began his own little tour. You don’t remember his name, you weren’t even sure if you had seen him since perhaps your sixth day at MACUSA, but you knew you’d always be grateful for his showing you around. He talked a lot, which was just as well since you were certain that if you tried to speak your voice would come out at an abnormally high pitch.

The tour ended in front of the doors to an office which obviously held more significance than any of the other offices, and you blinked up at the young man stood in front of you, “This is where I pass you over to Director Graves,” he told you, and offered a smile that seemed to be trying to reassure you, “He looks scary and, I mean, he is a little. Just- smile and try not to waste any of his time.” And with that he scampered off. The entire tour he attempted to make you feel better, and yet with his final sentence and abrupt disappearance, you suddenly felt as sick as you had just before you set foot through the doors of the great building. You inhaled deeply – you could do this, you couldn’t be scared of a man you didn’t know – and knocked three clear knocks at the door that loomed over you. There was a moment when you doubted that you would receive an answer, but when a clear voice called out, ‘Come in’, you had to force yourself to twist the handle and take the step in.

Percival Graves was, you decided, a scary looking man just as the previous man had warned you. His eyes bore into you and you had to remind yourself that you couldn’t speak to him from across the room, and had to take several steps closer before you were a respectable distance from him. You opened your mouth to speak, but you heard him say your last name – as a statement more than a question- before you could pick the best way to introduce yourself. Don’t nod, say actual words, you advised yourself before replying with, “Yes, sir.” There was a stack of paperwork to his left – don’t waste his time – and you watched him lower his eyes back to the paper that was in front of him as he informed you of where to find your desk.

You left that office with a fear of Director Graves that you were certain you would never get over.

Stood in front of Seraphina Picquery, you knew the words that were going to come out of her mouth before she got the chance to utter them. We all want to find him, we have other priorities, he would want us to see this through. You couldn’t stand it. Every moment you waited for other work to get done first, was another moment that he was Merlin only knows where with nothing and no one keeping him alive. You stormed out of that office with little regard for the fact that your friend, Seraphina, was also your President.

“Percival?” You hadn’t bothered to knock as you slipped into his office, sure this was where you would find him. He looked up at you from yet more paperwork as though this was a regular shift, and you were interrupting him. For a moment you wondered if he had just completely forgotten about the Christmas party that was happening elsewhere in the building, but reminded yourself that of course he knew, and of course – yet again – he had no intention of attending. It wasn’t that you did, either; you were still in the suit you had worn for work, and had taken the opportunity of the party to get more work done that you would usually have the chance to. But it wouldn’t be right to be alone whilst the sound of music drifted down the hall and tormented you.

Percival, to your surprise, set down his pen and leaned back, gesturing for you to take the seat on the other side of his desk. You did not hesitate in doing so. You felt his eyes on you even when you closed your eyes to give them a break for a moment, though your scribbles from the day’s paperwork drifted around your vision and you uttered an audible sigh. “One day,” you hummed, “I will see you attend a work event. I refuse to die until I’ve seen it,” you promised him, and you opened your eyes to see him huff a short laugh and shake his head. “Next year,” you said, more of a demand than a question, “In our line of work I don’t know how much longer you can afford to keep me waiting.” You watched him contemplate it, before he pointed his pen at you, “Only if you come with me.” Now, did you read this to be a date-like situation, or merely an observation that you had attended the same number of work events as he? You supposed you would find out, in a year.

Your brow pulled into a frown as you stood in front of Graves’ desk, memory after memory hitting you like relentless waves. You were haunted by them, never free to have a moment of thinking that wasn’t absorbed by your total grief over the loss of Percival. If you were Grindelwald, where would you hide the Director of Magical Security for MACUSA? Somewhere obvious, you decided. Somewhere so close that no one would think to search it. And so you found yourself wandering aimlessly around the office you much frequented. You pressed your palms to your eyes and tried to wrack your brain for anything else, anything that would help, trying to think as Grindelwald might.

The smell of burning took longer to hit your nose than it probably should have, but you had been immensely absorbed in your new no-maj book. Your head snapped up, and you tossed the book onto the table and hurried to the kitchen to find a slightly-flustered but still determined Percival Graves attempting to make something that may suitably be called dinner. You shooed him away and yanked his pan from the flames to give it a chance to settle, using your free hand to wave away the smoke as he opened a window. “How do you survive on your own?” You teased, peering into the pan to see what was salvageable, as Percival leaned against the counter and watched you intently, “Lowered standards, perhaps.” You laughed at that, and spooned out what you decided was no longer edible before you turned down the heat, “Allow me to teach you the art of cooking that I, as a much less important auror, have been able to pick up,” you threw a smirk over your shoulder at him, to find that he was already giving you a similar look, “Well, as a much more important auror I do try to have my priorities straight.” You pulled a face at him, determined to make a fine meal since you were that one that refused to go out to eat; the two of you were always going out to eat, after all. You were both in need of a good home cooked meal. Another moment passed before you heard a resigned sigh from behind you, and Percival appeared at your side saying, “Alright, teach me your ways,” and you grinned triumphantly.

You had been right. Percival Graves had never even left the MACUSA building. He was found in an evidence room, in a chest that had been confiscated and had an extension charm placed upon it. Merlin, he was so thin and pale. You wouldn’t let go of his hand, wouldn’t leave his side over the fear that if you did, you would lose him again. It wasn’t professional of you, you knew that, but Madame Picquery said nothing of it and therefore as did your co-workers. He was covered in bruises and cuts, but you knew that whatever had happened to him had taken a larger toll on his mind than anything else. Healing would take time, but you wouldn’t leave him. He hadn’t woken up since he had been found, and you had taken the time to ready yourself for whatever happened when he finally opened his eyes. You would not leave him.

Little Sister [8]

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, sister!reader, Jessica Moore.

Words: 2770

[Character death, Angst, Fluff]

Tags: @annabethgranger123 @cookee50 @pizzarollpatrol @waywardbaby97 

A/N: This series has about 17,000 words by now, so congrats, you’ve read a novelette haha. But thanks guys, for sticking with me through this! I never thought it was going to turn out to be such a long series, the idea literally just started with some random inspiration. Again, thank you for all the nice comments <3

So, here you go: the last part of Little Sister!

Originally posted by hunterchesters

Your name: submit What is this?

You didn’t only stir in your sleep while Sam was by your side, you actually started waking up. And merely seconds after he left, you opened your tired eyes, and you instantly knew, deep inside that something was different. You didn’t say anything, you were still in a state between being awake and asleep. However, you soon started feeling very weird. Really uncomfortable actually. It felt like your skin, your bones were crawling, and you started to get nauseous, your head spinning.

You tried getting out of the sofa, but you couldn’t. Just as you let out a whimper, less than 10 seconds after it started, all symptoms stopped, and now you felt like you were being strangled instead. Quickly sitting up, after whatever had left you feeling momentarily paralyzed had passed, you tugged at whatever was tight around your throat. You fumbled with controlling your limbs, and that’s when you realized it; you were back to normal. You weren’t 3 years old, and neither 5. You were 22 again. A jolt of happiness and relief erupted in your stomach, and you had to stop yourself last second before letting out a squeal because you realized that it was in the middle of the night, Jess was sleeping and probably Sam too, and well you were still stuck in what you understood was your pajama top.

After a rushed and embarrassing struggle you got the small top off, and you could pull the sweatshirt — your sweatshirt — over your head, and the bliss only grew. It felt so great to be back, you couldn’t wait to speak to Jess and Sam in the morning. You knew you should also probably take that moment to apologize for everything, as you remembered it all perfectly clear.

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Blue Balled by the Blue Paladin

Characters: Pidge, Lance, Green Lion

Ships: Pidge/Lance

Rating: Explicit

Words: 5103

Summary: Five times Lance interrupts Pidge, and one time she helps herself.

Trigger Warnings: Rape, Masturbation, Drug Use, Lance Being a Responsible Gentleman, Bedsheet Bondage, Changing Perspective

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Stay With Me (Part 3)

“If only it was us against the world. Tell me, would you stand for all we’re worth?”

Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Word Count: 2074
Warnings: None (look at me being all tame and innocent…it won’t last
A/N: Hello doll-ings! Okay so I plan on trying a few new things with this series regarding my writing style. I’ll be bouncing around between descriptive storytelling, lots of dialogue, and changing perspectives between characters. Just to mix things up every so often y’know. I hope you’re all still enjoying it so far!! ❤

one | two | three | four

Originally posted by wintersebastian


“Bucky,” you repeated for good measure, smiling so wide that your cheeks started to hurt. “It’s nice to meet you, Bucky.”

You stood in that dim alleyway in silence for a few minutes, admiring the brightening twinkle that started to shine in his beautiful blue eyes.

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Lords React: Sickness


              “Foolish girl, getting sick at such an inopportune time.”  Your lord scolded his cold hand providing a much needed relief on the hot skin of your forehead. You managed a pained smile in response. He wasn’t lying, it wasn’t an opportune time. Not that getting sick was ever an opportune thing to do. But he was supposed to return to the front soon. He couldn’t afford to wait for you to get well. Takeda certainly wouldn’t.

              “Milord you shouldn’t be in here.” You chastised, trying the best to glare at him. “You might get sick.” A very real fear. You hadn’t known him to get ill, but with things the way they were and with uncertainty everywhere he needed his health. “I can’t have you going into battle ill.”

              “As though a devil like me could get sick.” He grumbled, replacing his hand with a cool cloth. “You are even more silly than I thought if you believe that I’d be affected by something so trivial as illness.” He grasped your hand, bringing it up to his mouth and brushing his lips against it. “I’ll have to punish you for doubting me later on.” His words made you laughed softly.

              “I’d never doubt you, Milord.” You yawned, moving your body closer to his sitting frame. “I’m fully expecting you to show me your divine rule once I am well”


              “I’m not going to drink it.” You declared, turning away from the pale haired man. “I’m fine, I promise. “You’d been in bed with a bad fever for three days, today, day four, you finally felt better. On top of the mandatory bed rest you’d been under, Lord Tokugawa had insisted, demanded, that you drink his ‘remedies’ daily. But today, today you finally felt well enough to say no.

              “What was that? Are you denying your Lord? It sounds like you’d prefer to be left to die in the mountains.” Ieyasu retorted, his usual eerily pleasant smile had been replaced with a frown. “The only reason you are feeling anything at all besides the coldness of death is because of this. You’re going to drink it.” His free hand reached up and grabbed you by your chin, tilting your face in his direction. “This is an order.” You kept your mouth shut. You knew you were being childish, but you were so tired of being cooped up and at his mercy, you just wanted a moment.

              The moment passed.

              And then another.

              Your eyes were locked with his, an unwavering battle. Finally, he huffed, tilting the bowl of green elixir into his own mouth.

              “Wait, Milord-“His lips all but slammed against yours the bowl that had been in his hand clattering to the floor as his fingers tangled in your hair. Your gasp only served to his purpose, the bitter liquid burning in your mouth and down your throat. He held you there, his tongue caressing your own till the thought of the medicine seemed far from your mind. By the time you realized that he had tricked you it was too late to do anything about it.

              Maybe you didn’t mind the medicine as much as you had thought.


              You’re not sick, no you’re perfect fine, fresh off of a small spring cold. It is Lord Yukimura who is ill, his sniffles and feverish body leaving him basically useless to the Takeda forces. Useless, and upon your request, relegated to bed rest. Something that you both quickly discovered he did not like. Sanada Yukimura was not used to rested just to rest. A bottle of restless energy confined to your shared futon.

              “Lord Yukimura please” Your voice was only a tad exasperated, your hand naturally reaching for his, squeezing it for comfort. “The physician said-“

              “I can’t just sit here!” He interjects, a frustrated noise leaving his throat. “I have duties, I-“

              “Your duties won’t mean much if your cold gets any worse.” You cut him off, pressing a kiss to his warm forehead. “Just let me take care of you, like you are always taking care of me.” Your declaration quieted him down, allowing you to settle yourself beside him, humming softly.  He watched you work, his eyes never leaving your frame. It still amazed him that you thought so highly of him when you were the sunshine that brought light to all of his days.

              “I love you.”

              “I love you too.”


              You snuggled against the warm body lying next to you and sighed happily. Sure you had spent a good portion of the day out of commission but it had meant that Lord Masamune had come to your shared chambers earlier in the day, had insisted that he’d share the bed even if you were sick, and had spent most of the evening allowing you to doze in his safe embrace. Now that night had fallen, and his breath had evened out with sleep, you allowed yourself to think back on the events of the day

              You had woken up feeling under the weather, all but dragging yourself off the futon to attend to your daily duties. You knew Masamune was busy. The Dragon of Oshu was preparing for war again. As for yourself, a day of tending to the warm kitchen soon became overwhelming. Your body had felt so…heavy, as the hot air drenched you in sweat.

              Masamune had called you for tea, and you had almost made it to his room. So close, when the wave of dizziness shook you so hard you dropped the tea, the clatter sounding far away to your fading consciousness. You had come to in his room, his worried, oh so beautiful face peering down at you from above.

              “You’re awake” His voice was anxious. You realized he was clutching your hand in his own.

              “Lord Masamune?” You yawned his name, confusion evident on your features. “what happened?”

              He had explained it to you, telling you that the physician said you needed rest. Rest you would get. He’d given you three days of mandatory bed rest, much to your chagrin.

              As upset as you had wanted to be, all of your irritation had melted away right before bed when he had whispered in your ear that he would also be taking those three days off.

              Being sick wasn’t so bad after all.


              The sly ninja had known you were getting sick an entire day before you had even felt ill. “The little lady is a bit under the weather isn’t she?” he had declared, his long, tapered fingers resting on your forehead.  You had snorted, shaking your head in disagreement then.

              Now not so much. A cough, your cough, echoed in the room as you grumbled some nonsense statement about the soup that you were eating. He sat opposite of you, a smirk evident on his features. He’d told you to take it easy yesterday and you hadn’t taken him seriously. Now look at you.

              “Saizo stop” You huffed, glaring at him. “I don’t know what you are so happy about.”

              “I’m just happy my little lady gets a day of rest.” He retorted, combing his fingers through your hair. “after all, you working too much got you into this position, right?” Wrong. Although you knew he was right deep down, you couldn’t admit it. He seemed to understand, crawling under the covers and wrapping his arms around your waist, tugging you close to him.

              “Saizo!” You gasped at him, going to push him away. “I’m sick.” He kissed the top of your nose.          

              “Shhh” and you let him drag you down with him into the abyss of pleasure and sleep. 

The Right Thing - Jason Todd x Reader

Originally posted by mrjasontodd

Requested by Anon -  Jason is saved by an assassin that the batfam has been trying to catch for a while.

It was a dark, rainy night when Jason decided to bust one of Black Mask’s drug bins. He went alone as the rest of the family was busy chasing after an assassin who they believed murdered the CEO of a local corporation. 

Jason didn’t mind too much, he preferred to work alone. Besides, it was supposed to be an easy job.

Unfortunately, nothing was ever as easy as it should be. When Jason came bursting through the roof, he found himself surrounded by twenty goons with machine guns. Which is how Jason got into his current predicament. 

He was chained to a metal chair in the middle of some abandoned warehouse in the west side of Gotham. Jason had calculated it to be about five hours since they captured him. The goons who brought him here beat him up pretty badly, he was sure he had a few broken ribs to say the least. 

.”Look who decided to break into one of my drug bins,” Black Mask snarls, stepping out from the shadows. 

Jason chuckles, ignoring the ache in his ribs. “Well, Black Mask looking ghastly as ever,” Jason shot back, only to receive punch in the face by one of the goons. The impact cracked his helmet. 

“Shut it, Hood,” Black Mask growls, pointing a gun to Jason’s head. “You have caused me enough trouble over the years.” He cock the gun with a menacing grin. “I’m going to enjoy getting rid of you once and for all.” Jason closes his eyes, waiting for the bang only to hear the whistle of an throwing star flying through the air.

He opens his eyes in time to see the star embedding itself into Black Mask’s hand making him drop the gun. Jason breathed a sigh of relief before glancing up in the rafts to see his savior.

You weren’t a bad person. Sure, you used to work for the League of Assassins, but you got away from that. Actually, you were working to prevent assassinations throughout the country. 

However, you were too late to save the CEO. The worst part of all this was that Batman thought you did it. He had all the vigilantes in Gotham after you except for Red Hood. 

After ditching Batman three nights before, you hid in one of the abandoned warehouses on the west side. It was empty for a time until that fateful night when Black Mask’s henchmen dragged in a beaten Red Hood. 

Of course, you liked the work the vigilantes did in Gotham, even to the point of admiring them until they started chasing you around for a crime you didn’t commit. 

You watched from your perch as Black Mask’s men beat up Red Hood. The urge to step in was hard to resist, but you assumed Batman was coming. It wasn’t until Black Mask pointed the gun did you step in. Throwing a ninja star, you knock the gun out of his hand, saving Red Hood’s life. 

Black Mask’s goons were in an uproar, assuming Batman had arrived. You waited a moment before dropping down on them, taking them down one by one. Most of them had no idea what hit them. 

Once they were all down, you started to free Red Hood from his chains. “Who are you,” he mumbles weakly. 

“A friend,” you say, breaking the chains only to have Red Hood slump forward onto the ground. You quickly catch him, preventing his helmet from smacking against the cement floor. “Are you alright?”

“Take off my helmet,” he gasps when your arms come into contact with his ribs. “It’s hard to breathe.”

You give him a surprised look before carefully opening the helmet and slipping it off. He wore a domino mask underneath, but he was handsome. You stare at him for a long moment, gently tracing a finger along his jawline. 

At your touch, he stares back at you. Slowly, he reaches up a hand to push down your hood revealing your face. The two of you stare at each other for so long, neither of you notice Nightwing’s arrival. 

“Red Hood, are you alright…,”Nightwing shouts as he dropped down from the ceiling only to skid to a stop when he recognizes you. “Let go of him!” He runs forward rapidly, making you back away from Red Hood. Unnoticed to all three of you, Black Mask had recovered and was slowly pointing his handgun back at Red Hood.

You catch the movement in the corner of your eye. Knowing he was going to pull the trigger, you leap in front of Red Hood as the shot rang out. You felt the piercing icy feeling of the bullet entering your body before you slam into the ground.

“No,” Red Hood screams, hurrying to your side, ignoring his own pain. Nightwing threw one of his escrima sticks, knocking Black Mask unconscious before running to your side. 

Blood is seeping out of your bullet wound as you feel Red Hood placing pressure on it. You moan at the pain, but he hushes you. “You’re going to be fine,” he reassures you. You black out soon after with Red Hood’s handsome face being the last thing you see.

The next thing you hear is the screeching of bats and shouting voices. Keeping your eyes closed, pain radiated from your stomach as you remember what happened. You try to use your hand to touch your wound, but only found it handcuffed to the side of the bed you laid on.

Exhausted, you let your hand fall back on the bed. Still keeping your eyes closed, you try to make out the shouting voices. 

“They saved my life, and you handcuff them,” a voice that you were sure was Red Hood’s yells. It echos off the walls making you wonder where you were.

“They murdered a man, Jason,” a deeper voice responses just as loudly. The voice has a terrifying quality to it, you assume it’s Batman.

“You don’t know that,” Red Hood, or Jason, shoots back, the passion in his voice surprises you. “You even said yourself you don’t have any evidence.”

Batman’s growl echos off the walls, “They were at the scene of the crime. That makes them a suspect no matter how infatuated you are with them.”

Jason let out a enraged scream followed by the breaking of glass and footsteps stomping off. You found that eavesdropping on their conversation drained you as you slowly slip back into unconsciousness.  

The next time you wake, it’s quiet. The bed you lie upon is softer and larger than the one from before. The pain from your stomach has lessened. Keeping your eyes closed, you slowly move your hand to find it free of the handcuff, allowing you to place your hand on your stomach to feel the bandages underneath. 

You hear someone take a breath, causing you to open your eyes in shock. Blinking to adjust to the light, you focus on the figure sitting at your bedside. It takes you a moment, but from the jawline, you recognize the figure to be Red Hood, or Jason as you learned from before. He wasn’t wearing his mask.

He stares at you before gently taking you hand off your stomach to hold in his grasp. “You’re awake,” he breathes, squeezing your hand. “I thought you would never wake up.”

You blink at him, absorbing his face without the mask. He had the most dazzling blue eyes you had ever seen. You tried to speak, but your throat was too dry.   

Jason takes a glass of water from the bedside table and helps you sit up while stabbing pain racks through your stomach. Once you were settled, he holds the glass to your lips. 

“I was worried I would never get to thank you,” he says when he places the empty glass back on the table. “You saved my life.”

“I did,” you state once you could speak. Glancing down at your entwined hands, you squeeze his hand back. “I’m not handcuffed?”

Jason is surprised by your question, but smiles to reassure you. “No, you’re not. I was able to find the evidence to prove you were innocent,” he explains, rubbing his thumb on your hand. “Batman isn’t coming after you anymore.”

“Where am I,” you ask, glancing around the room. It didn’t look like a hospital room. 

“We’re at Wayne Manor,” Jason admits before wincing. “I’ll explain later.”

You study his face, taking your free hand to trace his jawline again. He was so handsome. “Why did you help me,” you ask, studying him uncertainly. 

“To return the favor for saving my life, and because…,” his voice trails off as he closes his eyes to enjoy your touch. “I care about you.”

Cocking your head at him, you try to understand. “But we just met,” you protest as his other hand captures yours, stopping you from tracing his face. 

“I know, but I felt it when I first saw you,” he explains, leaning closer to your face. “It just clicked. I think you felt it too.”

You give him a tiny smile. “I did, but I didn’t think you would care about me. I used to kill people,” you whisper when your faces were only centimeters apart. 

“I used to kill people too,” he mumbles, gazing deep into your eyes with his bright blues. 

“Can you forgive yourself,” you ask sadly, the pain of what you have done in your past reflecting his. 

“No, but I can move on,” Jason soothes. “I can help you move on too.” You could feel his breath on your lips as they crash into yours. It was like someone lit fireworks in your body. Shivers ran up and down your spine as your stomach tingles from the pressure of his lips on yours. 

Careful of your bullet wound, Jason climbs on the bed next to you. He wraps you in his arms while never separating your lips from his. 

Tears begin to fall down your face as you couldn’t remember the last time someone was this close to you without intending to kill you. Jason releases your lips when he feels your tears. He meets your gaze, understanding your pain before gently pushing your face into his chest. His arms tighten around you as you cry for the first time in a long time. 

Sobbing into Jason’s chest, you realize that saving him was the right thing to do, even if it was for selfish reasons.   

May 8, 1994

Title: May 8, 1994

Pairing: Kai Parker x Reader

Request: anonymous asked:
Some Kai fluff where you met him before he murdered his family and he was actually really sweet but he felt completely rejected by everyone but you???😊😊

Words: 1074

Warnings: Kinda sorta cliche… ok very cliche.

Side Note: I don’t feel like I completely did this request justice so if any writers would like to take a shot at it, feel free to and tag me in it so I can see your ideas for it.

May 8, 1994

“I can’t believe you talked me into this.” You said as you quickly glanced away from the ground that was three stories below you. Somehow, Kai had talked you into climbing onto the roof with him at 1 a.m. so you’re parents wouldn’t hear you.

“Don’t act like you haven’t ever wanted to.” He replied.

“I’ve thought about it, but my roof isn’t necessarily flat and I have a slight fear of heights.” You countered, scooting a bit closer to Kai and away from the edge.

“Don’t worry,” Kai joked as he put his arm around your shoulder, “I shall protect you.”

You scoffed. “My hero.” You rolled your eyes playfully and shoved his side slightly as he removed his arm. You weren’t gonna lie, you like Kai having his arm around you. As cliche as it sounded, you actually felt safe in his arms.

“I prefer Knight in Shining Armor.” He smirked at you. “But hero works, too.”

You rolled you eyes again and looked out at the empty street that was lit by the occasional street light. You two sat in silence for a few moments, but it wasn’t awkward. Instead, it was peaceful.

Kai was your best friend. You weren’t going to lie, you wanted to be more, but just like every other love-struck best friend, you were afraid of ruining what you already had. You and Kai had been friends since you moved into town over a year ago. Yes, Kai was older than you but not by much. Although with you being 17 and him being 22, your parents did find it a little strange that you spent a majority of your time with him.

“Can I confess something?” Kai blurted out.

You turned your head towards him but he was focused on the street you were just staring at. “Sure.” You nodded towards him.

“I feel like you’re the only person I can actually trust.” He said. You didn’t know what to say, so you just sat in silence and waited for him to continue. “You’re the only one that doesn’t judge me for being a Siphoner. I mean, my own family is ashamed of me.” He turned to look at you. “Why?”

“Why what?” You asked, confused. You couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty in this moment. You had started to form a friendship with Jo that you knew Kai wasn’t happy about. He never said anything about it, but you could just tell by the look in his eyes whenever you talked to her.

“Why is it that you are the only person that seems to care about me?” You honestly didn’t know how to answer that.

“I don’t know.” You sighed and looked away. “I mean, I don’t see why you being a Siphoner is such a big deal. It’s not like you can control it.” You looked back up at him and into his mesmerizing eyes.

Kai had told you about the supernatural not long after you became friends. You knew about vampires, werewolves, witches, all of them. He had expected you to be afraid of him afterwards, but it only made you fall harder for him. You didn’t tell him that though.

He sighed before looking down at his hands that were in his lap. “The thought of my family angers me. I just wish there were something I could do that would bring them as much pain as they’ve caused me.” You saw his fists clench.

“Hey,” you reached into his lap and grabbed his hand, giving it a small squeeze, “it’s alright, ok? They’re not worth it. If they can’t see how great a person you are, they aren’t even worth your time.”

He kept his glance on your hands and started to stroke your hand with his thumb. “Do you think you could ever hate me?” He asked softly.

You were taken back by his question. “What? Of course not.” You said as you shook your head slightly.

“Are you sure?” He looked up at you. “No matter what I did? Is there anything you can think of that would cause you to hate me?”

You eyed him strangely. You weren’t sure how to react to his questions. You didn’t know if you should be scared or angry. “I can think of things that would make me not want to talk to you anymore, but I honestly can’t see myself ever hating you.” You replied truthfully.

You sat in silence for a little bit. Kai had avoided eye contact with you and instead kept his eyes on your hands. “(Y/N),” he looked up at you, “I’m probably gonna do something soon, I can’t tell you what, but…” He paused for a moment and sighed. “I know for a fact the only thing that would make me regret it is if you hated me afterwards.”


“Wait. I-I just…” He paused again. This was definitely out of character for Kai. He was usually very care free and snarky. Now he seemed vulnerable and truly afraid. “I need to do this at least once before I possibly ruin everything.”

You were more confused now than ever. “Kai, what are y-“ You were interrupted by his lips being pressed to yours. At first you didn’t know how to react, but when you felt him starting to pull away, you put your free hand on the side of his face and pulled him back to you.

You had pictured kissing Kai before, but none of your dreams could compare to the real thing. HIs lips were soft and warm. His touch made you completely melt. Not to mention this was your first kiss. You slowly pulled away and Kai rested his forehead against yours.

“What was that about?” You asked as you glanced from his eyes to his lips. All you wanted to do was pull his face back to yours.

“It’s been so long since I’ve felt any emotion towards anyone. Even when we first met, I didn’t like you. But now I can’t see my life without you in it.” He brought one of his hands to the side of your face and lifted his head to give you a quick peck on the forehead before returning to his previous position. “Just promise me that no matter what, you won’t be afraid of me. I will never hurt you. I just need you to remember that.”

“I will.” You nodded. “But you have to promise me something, too. Promise me you aren’t leaving.”

A small smile spread across his lips. “Never.“