so when miles tried to kill him he was could be as good as dead already


Ok, so this is a imagine that I’ve had in my head for a while now. Enjoy, My Lovelies. xx

Tag list: @hamartiamacguffin @illisea @thegreatficmaster @lovemesomepie85 @torn-and-frayed

If you want me to add you to my tag list, shoot me through a message and let me know. 

Dean looked up as the Y/C/H hunter walked into the viewing room. Her hair fell loosely around her face, the soft Hollywood curls framing it perfectly. His eyes wandered over her body, the way her jeans hugged her arse perfectly, the black tank she wore that was slightly see through, the deep red bra underneath that showed off some of her best assets. Her silver cross hung down over the top of her breasts, the diamonds shining in the light. Her heels clicked on the polished concrete floor, he glanced down at the ankle boots, that was a new looked. The look was Y/N all over, but a sexed up Y/N. He frowned at the duffels in her hand.


Keep reading

skye07  asked:

Ohhh!!! you wrote the knitting Tony story!!!! I've been hunting that story for a long time!!! (was on a reading spree on your Tony tag, I'm having a swell of a time) So HOW ABOUT!! Someone finding or just ended up in Tony's stash room (it might be a floor if we are being honest, I would with his resources). I am salivating just imaginging the AMOUNT of yarn Tony must have collected, of all colours and types. Just, please. I would love you even more if you decide this prompt worthy~~

You mean that story I sent to bloody-bee-tea about Tony knitting? I’m surprised I haven’t written more Tony knitting, tbh. Hope you like it! Look out for under the cut!

This work can also be found on my Ao3 here.

Natasha had been investigating her new home when she stumbled into it. The room was gigantic, cube shelves covering the walls. Every single shelf had balls of yarn in it, starting with red in one corner and spreading in a circular rainbow of yarns, except for the few columns of shelves that were filled with needles, hooks, counters of some sort?

Natasha felt nervous for a reason she couldn’t explain. Perhaps because this room felt deeply personal? That the person who had set it up had taken time to organize it just right?

She stayed just long enough to tuck a gun under some soft yarn before she left. Each room needed at least one weapon hidden in it.

“Why would you ever need this in my stash?” Tony complained, shoving the gun into her hands. “You can use literally anything in there as a weapon. The straight needles can be used to stab people and the circular needles can be used as garrotes. My double-pointed needles can be used in close combat. And if your attacker is allergic to wool, he’s gonna be in for a bad time.”

Keep reading


Peter Hale x Reader



Imagine: You have a major crush on Peter Hale, but, because of the Pack, you have to keep it a secret. One day, when he comes to your house injured, you are not able to hide it any more and comes clean to him.

Word Count: 1560

Being ordinarily human in a town crowded with supernatural creatures could be pretty boring sometimes; especially when all of your friends saw you as a fragile thing who could get broken if exposed to a high amount of shit. It was stupid, though. You were not a doll or anything related, for God’s sake; plus, even though fighting was not your thing, you could help on other stuff, like cleaning and bandaging the injured. Your aunt Melissa had taught you a lot of medical stuff, making you perfect for this task. However, bone killer Scott shut you out entirely, pledging you were too young to be on this life.

“As if I cared!” You snorted, angry. “Fucking Scott. Fucking rules. Fuck! Fuck!”

You threw, bored, the remote control on the couch’s corner, giving up on finding a decent show to take your mind away from the horrible powerless feeling you were experiencing. People needed your help and you were stuck at home, not able to do nothing about it. Why did you let people manipulate you like that?

“This calls for some booze”, you thought, standing up and heading to the kitchen. Sure, drinking would never solve entirely your problems, it’s not like it’s magic, however, you would at least calm down. Otherwise, it was very likely that you would rip Scott’s throat with your bare hands.

While trying to reach the highest shelf to grab the tequila bottle, you could not help but giggle, suddenly imagining what the pack would do if they discovered your secret crush on Peter Hale. Poor tiny human Y/N falling for a monster. It was ironic.

Finally getting hold of the bottle, you took a sip straight from it, not bothering to get a glass. The liquid went down burning and you smiled, enjoying the sensation. It was damn good, as usual.

Taking short steps, you went back to the living room, ready to put on some music and swirl your hips to it. All of that was probably due the alcohol excess, you were never a strong drinker. Yet, whilst you set up the stereo, you heard odd noises. As if someone was walking clumsily through wood sticks, breaking them with its feet.

“Shit.” You muttered, approaching the window and slyly looking through a brief shaft. There was nothing there. “I’m going crazy. That’s it.”

As soon as you returned to the room, you heard it again. This time, though, the door was swung open and a bleeding light brown haired man leant against the doorframe. What the hell was Peter doing here, at your place? Has he lost his mind?

“Hey, princess.” His voice was weak and he coughed, blood staining your carpet. “Care to help me a little?”

Your thoughts were mingled and confusing, but you propped up and went to help him. You pushed the door closed behind you and dragged him to the couch, staring deeply at his eyes. He seemed so defenseless!

“What happened?”

“Kate is back in town.”

“Kate as in Allison’s aunt?” Your eyes were widened as you quizzed him worried. “Fuck, wasn’t she dead? How did she come back?”

“As it seems, she was not killed. She was turned.”

“Into a werewolf?”

“Not quite, princess. We still have to figure out that part.” You could notice him struggling to talk and it shattered your heart the mere sight of your beloved hurt.

You always had a thing for bad boys, that was true; however, when Peter tagged along, you knew he was different. Sassy, slightly bossy… Heck, a perfect match for you. Still, you had to keep it a secret from him and everybody else. No one was allowed to know about your feelings, because it would turn out to be a major problem, considering how overprotective your cousin could get. Argh! You hated it. All of it.



“Are you okay?”

“Sure I am.” Your reply came out with a fake laugh and a awkward gulp. “I think I should be asking you the same thing.”

“Uh, I’ll be okay. I only a need a shower.” He smirked tenderly, reaching to touch your right cheek. “Your heart is beating like crazy.”

Yes, this you could not hide or disguise. Seeing him hurt and in pain made your heartbeat go crazy. More than it would normally get when you were around him.

“I’m just…” You licked your lips, fighting to keep it together. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“Uh, I’m sorry.” Hale seemed disappointed, which made you bit your bottom lip. “You were the only person who came into my mind.”

“I’m flattered you considered me as an option.” A sarcastic remark slipped. “People tend to treat me like I’m made of glass.”

“What?” Peter sat up straight, wincing in pain by doing so. “You’re so tough, princess. So resilient. I bet you would make a badass werewolf.”

“Damn, this is so good to hear.” A smile curved your lips, for you were genuinely satisfied. “Now, enough with this. You need to shower and I’m going to find you clothes.”

“All right.” Hale nodded and tried to get on his feet. You could nearly feel his ache to walk and, once more, made your poor pumping organ skip a few beats. “Where is the bathroom?”

“I’ll take you there.”

Right then you realised how hard this situation was going to be. You cared too much about him to keep your shit under control for that long. It was a true challenge for your sanity; one you hoped to win.

Twenty minutes later, you found yourself lying lazily on your bed, staring at the white ceiling and pulling carelessly the soft fabric of your denim shorts while waiting for him to come out.

You took a deep breath in order to relax; yet, before it made any effect, the door was opened and a shirtless dripping water Peter walked through it, looking refreshed. This tore apart any chance of relaxation. Matter of fact, it made you more tensed up than ever.

As you sat upright, your gaze locked on him and you licked your lips, nervous. Hale must have found it pleasing to watch, for he chuckled, delighted, leaning to grasp the bundle of clothes that were by your side.

“Do you like what you see, princess?”

“I would appreciate if you call me by my name.” You retorted, looking away. “Why don’t you get dressed already?”

“Does my nudity bother you?”

“Yes. I mean, no. Why would it?”

He traced your jaw with his long slim fingers, getting you to look at him. Once you finally gave up and rose your chin, meeting his eyesight with yours, you found them soaked with tenderness. His blue eyes engulfed you like a high strong wave.



“Confess.” The raspy voice requested, his thumb stroking leisurely your cheekbone. “Tell me you love me, because I can hear your heartbeat from miles away.”

“Please, don’t make me do this.” You did not break the eye connection, no matter how quivery your voice were. “I don’t want to say it.”

“But you do love me.” He knelt in front of you. “God, you’re beautiful.”


“Why I find you beautiful? Because you are! So perfect and freaking gorgeous.”

“No.” You shook your head, giggling. “If you know how I feel, why do you want me to confess it?”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to make a fool of myself by falling for a girl who wasn’t in love with me as well.” A sinking feeling hit your stomach as you slowly understood what he was saying. “Oh, fuck! Did I scare you?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“So kiss me, please.” Peter asked, smoothly. “Go on, princess.”

A smug smirk enlightened your face and then you crashed your lips onto his, tasting all at once. He grasped your waist and pulled you closer, whilst you tugged his hair, wanting to release all the tension built up. It was so much better than you had imagined! His tongue fought with yours for dominance, the whole kiss heating up the place.

“Easy, tiger.” You whispered, splaying your hands on his chest as Hale was inches away from popping your shorts open. “I didn’t think you were this excited to be with me.”

“Ever since I laid my eyes on you, I knew you were going to be my doom.” Peter pecked your lips and continued. “The worst was that I didn’t care at all. I wanted you to crush me with your love. I wanted you to break my walls.”

“Did I?”

“Damn hell you did.” Both of you chuckled. “What about me? Did I crack Mrs. Y/N Y/L/N?”

“You know you did.” Your voice was soft. “I am hopelessly in love with you.”

Peter Hale hid his face on your neck, smiling against it, half surprised half glad by your statement. He stayed quiet for awhile, just sucking on your skin and leaving love bites behind. When he finally reached your ear, he could not help but mutter the words you wanted to hear:

“I love you too, princess.”

Your heart warmed up upon hearing that and you sealed your lips once more, realising how deep were your feelings towards each other. You two were meant to be. Definitely a love written on the stars.

In Too Deep

Pairing: Dean x sister!reader, Sam x sister!reader

Summary: After killing Dick Roman, the reader ends up in purgatory with Dean

Word Count: 1.600

Warnings: Violence, broken reader

A/N: This was written for @hannahindie and @pinknerdpanda Punk’s Not Dead Creative Challenge. Congrats on 200 followers and thanks for the fun challenge!

This does not exactly follow the original storyline.

Originally posted by helpimanspnfan

It was terrible. One moment, there was this bone in the leviathans throat, his huge mouth with its long teeth opening wide in a growl before everything suddenly became black goo.

Then there was purgatory. You didn’t realize it at first, all you could see were the huge, dark trees towering above you and a dead forest that seemed to stretch for miles. But then you were greeted by a creature that appeared out of nowhere.

“Welcome to Purgatory“ it grinned, licking its fangs and crouching down, steadying itself on the ground with his claws. It jumped at you, but you were faster and already had your knife drawn from your jacket. The thing basically jumped into its own death, right at your weapon, pulling you to the ground with it.

Keep reading

@hello-shellhead messaged me yesterday about an idea for an AU based of the music video Genghis Khan and I hadn’t watched it before. So when I did, I instantly jumped at the idea because the song is really good and the video is so wonderful. So Gina and I talked about how it could possibly go and now it’s being turned into a post!

Tony is an evil genius who is constantly having his plans thwarted by Steve, who is a secret. The two of them have been enemies for a long time now but have actually developed a relationship of where they’re like friends. They talk to each other every now and then, in the middle of fights or if the other is tied up. It happens so often that Tony finds that he gets happy whenever Steve tries to infiltrate his lair, a small smile on his face as he sees his henchman bring Steve to him in cuffs. 

Outside of his evil life, Tony has a home life with a wife, Whitney, and two kids. He goes home every day, plays with his kids that he adores ( Peter and Harley), and eating dinner with his wife that he doesn’t love. Tony knows that he’s unhappy in his marriage, has known this for a long time but a part of him is so scared to leave it because this marriage is safe and what he knows. So every night, while Whitney sleeps, he stays awake and thinks about the possible lives he could be living. One person comes into his mind, blonde hair and blue eyes, and Tony shakes his head. He rejects the thought because the two of them could never be together, they’re too different. 

Steve was good and he was evil. 

What he didn’t know was that Steve was having a same thought, thousands of miles away as he stared out of his hotel room in Istanbul. 

The two of them meet again when Tony manages to lure Steve back to his lair to finish him off. He has Steve strapped to a metal table, a laser above and pointed at him, ready to kill. All Tony has to do is press the red button and Steve will be dead and gone, no longer ruining his plans. 

But he finds that he can’t do it and chooses to release Steve, stopping his henchman as they try to grab him. His feelings for Steve are deeper than he thought and he can’t imagine a life where Steve doesn’t exist in it. Whether it be foiling his schemes or talking to him like he isn’t one of the most dangerous people in the world. 

Steve almost makes a run for it but stops just as he’s at front entrance. He battles with his feelings for a moment, thinking that falling in love with Tony is absurd but it’s too late because it’s already happened. So he goes back and Tony is surprised to see him but by the soft and fond smile that Steve gives him, Tony knows that he’s no longer alone. 

Tony divorces Whitney (much to her rage), and starts a happier and better life with Steve and his kids. Tony has quit being a villain and lives contently in the life that he had once pictured for himself but didn’t think it was possible. But now he is living it. 

Whitney disappeared into the blue all of a sudden and while Tony and Steve live their lives, they don’t know that she has taken Tony’s place as a villain, quietly vowing to get Tony back. 

(We also thought that Tony wouldn’t have the golden nose but would have his arc reactor instead!)

Sugar and Spice (Negan x Female)

Summary: She has a huge crush on Negan and would do anything to make him happy. He misses the taste of real pumpkin pie, so she sets out to make it for him. 

Characters: Negan x Female 

Word Count: 4,348

Warnings: SUPER FLUFF, a lil’ angst, some swearing

Author’s Note: This was a a fic request sent in by @may85 who asked:

“How about a Negan one shot where the reader found out what kind of food was Negan’s favorite, so she goes out to find the ingredients, succeeds and makes it, but he finds out that she went outside the walls and flips his shit. Fluff with some delicious Negan kisses?” 

I don’t know why I picked pumpkin pie. I’m kind of one of those people who goes crazy over it in the fall, and I feel like Negan would like it too. This is just super fluffy and yummy. Hope you guys enjoy!

Big thanks to @ashzombie13 for beta’ing this fic for me! <3

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Could you write a small thing about ryan leaving bodies for ray as a sign of courtship? And ray being like "what the fuck?"

Gotcha covered Anon. Warning for some gore and thank you so much for the prompt:

It’s not every day Ray finds a dead guy outside of his apartment (if it had been, he would have moved a long time ago), but there he is, lying there, eyes wide open, body riddled with bullet holes, three fingers missing.

It’s the fingers that give away who this guy is; Ray having shot them off in a struggle for his gun two days ago. It’s one of the downsides of working for Geoff Ramsey, sometimes guys tried to take them out at all hours of the day. The crew quickly learned they either have to fight back or let it happen. So far, none of them have let it happen.

Ray’s not sure who would take the time to track this guy down and kill him; especially with very little to go on. Until today, he had never seen the man’s face, hadn’t heard his voice, knew virtually nothing about him other than he worked for someone who at some point wanted Geoff and anyone working for him dead. And that three of his fingers were missing. Because of Ray.

Carefully, Ray steps over the body, making a quick phone call to the clean up crew they have on stand by, and Barbara promises to make quick work with the disposal; puns and all.

The rest of the day passes by uneventfully, and when Ray returns home no more bodies have been left in the hall. He does wonder why none of the neighbors bothered to call the cops, but then he remembers that last week he had heard gunshots coming from What’s Her Face’s apartment upstairs followed by a loud cackle. The next morning, Ray talked to the woman and she acted as if nothing happened, but he could have sworn he saw specks of blood covering her shoes. He didn’t ask, she didn’t tell, and they went about their lives.

He thinks about moving again, but dismisses the idea. His neighbor may be morally questionable, but she’s a fantastic baker and the commute to the FAHC office is only fifteen minutes. Plus, he’s already moved once thanks. Not again.

The next morning, he nearly trips over another body, this one laying right outside of his bedroom door. He takes several steps back, watching the new body warily, half expecting it to stand up and start swinging, but it just continues to lie there, immobile, throat cut, blood spattered across the front of his shirt.

Ray doesn’t recognize this guy, but he still has a feeling he should know who he is, so he snaps a picture of him and sends it to Gavin.

Gavin responds with an incoherent text followed by about fifty exclamation points and question marks, and Ray can’t help laughing softly, possibly sounding a little hysterical. He doesn’t blame Gavin for his response, would have had the same had their roles been reversed (possibly with a few less punctuation marks), and only types: Do you know who this guy is?

Gavin doesn’t respond for a good fifty minutes, but when he does it’s an email. The guy turns out to be the boss of the first dead guy. Some small time criminal with his hand in too many cookie jars, a record a mile wide, and a petty grudge against Geoff.

Why are you standing over this dead guy? Did you kill him? Gavin sends the text almost immediately after the email.

Not me. Ray sends back because if he’s going to get accused of killing one of Geoff’s enemies, he better be the one who pulled the trigger.

What sort of mof leaves a dead body on your floor?

I’ll let you know when I do.

After another quick call to Barbara, who delivers about a dozen rapid-fire dead body puns before promising to take care of the new dead guy, Ray sets out to find who has been leaving dead people around his apartment.

Geoff has a fit when Ray tells him about the body. He goes on about having to pay Barb not once but twice in the same week, and how the last person who cost him this much money on cleaners had been Ryan after his last murder break. It gives Ray an idea, but he stores it away for later, instead asking Geoff if he knows who could be responsible.

“How the fuck should I know? I gotta go make a few calls, make sure Barb isn’t the one doing it. She tried this two years ago.” He stalks away muttering to himself and Ray huffs. So much for Geoff’s help.

For a brief, very brief, moment Ray thinks maybe Barbara is behind this, but then he reminds himself she’d be more likely to leave the bodies outside of Geoff’s apartment, and he immediately abandons the idea.

No one else in the crew is all that helpful, but Michael and Jeremy offer to keep an ear out. Gavin starts going over security camera footage outside Ray’s apartment building and in the lobby, but whoever is doing this must have disabled them because he has no luck.

Jack offers up her couch until they figure out who’s behind it, but Ray kindly brushes off her concern. He’s sure whoever is doing this isn’t threatening him, but he knows there’s a message there somewhere. He just doesn’t know what is is yet.

The only person he can’t seem to find is Ryan, but knowing him he’s holed up in Sandy Shores somewhere, hiding out from the cops. It wouldn’t be the first time and Ray knows it won’t be the last either.

He goes for broke around noon, stopping by Fakehaus’ hideout, but the only one around is Lawrence. He’s sitting behind a desk, tinkering with an old laptop, but looks up when Ray walks into the room.

“Oh great, there you are. You here to pay me?”

Ray stops, confused. “Pay you?”

“Yeah, pay me. Look, I tried calling Ramsey but he’s not answering and I’m about this close-” he held up his left hand, his index finger and thumb nearly touching “-to tracking Ryan down myself.” He glances at his finger and thumb again before widening the space exponentially. “Okay, more like this…” he trails off again, squinting at his hand, and then says, “Fuck it. Just tell Ryan he still owes me for the information.”


“Yeah, information,” Lawrence retorts impatiently. “I mean fuck, if Ramsey is going to send Haywood around looking for some guy who fucked him over once like eight years ago the least he can do is send him along with some money. Especially since I found not only him but the flunky who works for him.”

Ray turns to leave, ignoring Lawrence when he calls him back. He thinks he understands what’s going on, maybe, but he can’t be sure and the uncertainty is going to drive him crazy.

Too lost in his head to actually be paying attention, he nearly runs into Ryan as he’s leaving the hideout. He looks up, scowling at Ryan.

“Uh, hi,” Ryan says with an awkward wave.

Ray narrows his eyes at him, opens his mouth to say something no doubt profound or witty, but instead grumbles, “I hate puns.”

“What?” Taken aback, Ryan shuffles back a few steps, watching Ray warily.

“I hate puns, Ryan,” Ray repeats softly. “I hate puns and yet because of you I had to deal with them.”

“I don’t…” Ryan clears his throat, his cheeks turning red. His voice cracks when he says, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Betrayed by one of my closest friends and he can’t even admit what he did.” He shakes his head, pushing Ryan back a step. “Dude, you left me not one but two bodies. Two. I mean, yeah they’re both involved in my almost death, but seriously. Can’t you have buried them in the desert like a normal criminal? I had to call Barb and I swear she has a book full of puns she has at the ready whenever anyone calls her. What the hell, Ryan?”

“I don’t know,” Ryan exclaims with a helpless shrug. “I thought, you know, you’d see the bodies and…”

“And what? What? I’d swoon at your feet and declare you my hero?” Ray can’t help it, he laughs, shaking his head again. “Dude, next time. Next time just ask me out like a normal person, you idiot.”

When something close to hope flickers across Ryan’s face, Ray knows his hunch had been right, but it doesn’t stop him from quickly saying, “That’s not a yes, by the way. You’re not getting a yes that easily.”

“I’ll wear you down,” Ryan replies with a self-assured grin.

“If I find another body on my doorstep it’ll be a definite no.”

“I make no promises.”

Batfamily x Reader - Warrior (Pt 1)


Requested: no

Song: none

Word Count: 1471


It was humid and dark outside around 3:30 am at Wayne manor, no stars shown through the thick clouds and smog. You would think that when it’s humid, the air would smell fresh and clean, but not here. The air smelled stale and compressed, like it was trying to suffocate you, but didn’t put in enough effort to actually succeed.

The house was quiet and dark, empty and silent. The halls were eerily quiet and no shadows were cast on the walls because the moon was buried deep behind the seemingly millions of layers of smoke. It was pitch black and silent, except for one room. The light in your bathroom was on and barely audible cries came out muffled through your hands as you sat on the floor next to the sink.

A razor covered in thick, red, fresh, blood sat in the sink along with all of your soul, poured out of your body with your blood, as well as your will to live, and by the bottle of pills spilled all over the floor, you already knew this, yet the house stayed silent, as if it was holding its breath, awaiting your next move.

Keep reading

Good Boys Like Bad Girls (Part 5)

Summary:  Most teachers had a pet student but not many students had one. Except you.

“Beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster… for when you gaze long into the abyss. The abyss gazes also into you.”

Word Count: 4.5k

Kinks Included In This Chapter: Voyeurism, orgasm denial, choking

Author’s Note: I didn’t proofread this yet tbh. I’ll do it when I wake up. 

(Woo two gifs for one chapter. I’ll give credits when I wake up as well)

As you expected, Taehyung didn’t let you go that easily. He missed school, camped down in front of your house, and when that failed as you resorted to just not going home and staying with Jungkook wherever the hell he chose to spend his nights, he started following the both of you. That, of course, led to numerous clashes between the two boys that had Taehyung landing in the hospital every time without fail, just to get on his feet again and continue chasing you.

There was something to be said about his loyalty and perseverance but he was drawing too much attention to you and frankly, you were getting tired of his shit.

“Just go home, Taehyung. Let it go. Go on with your life. Seeing you get beat up every day is getting more than a little pathetic.” You wave your hands in the air dismissively, towering over the boy slumped on the floor and holding his stomach in agony.

“Never.” He hisses out and pulls his hand away from his stomach, showing you a metallic object held tightly in his fist.

You squint, struggling to decipher what the object covered in blood is when Jungkook speaks up.

“You stole my pocket knife.” He laughs, “You think that’s gonna help you?”

Keep reading

Imagine Ivar being the one who wants to take over your kingdom

Summary: You’re the daughter, princess and an heir to the throne. One night you sneek out to see the man who stole your heart. But you get interrupted by vikings and especially the man in the chariot leave a wrong first impression.
Words: 1964

You sat before the altar on your knees, the small cross you always wore neatly folded between your hands while you were praying to the lord Christus. It was a soft murmured that came over your lips, before you opened your eyes and looked up to the statue that was hanging on the wall. “Amen.” You wispered while making a cross sigh with your hands. You stood up and walked in silence out of the little church you had, back home. As a princess you were admired by your people, everybody nodded at you, bow or speak to you with ‘my lady’ or ‘your highness’. You hated that part of your life a little, always being the example towards your people. Playing by the rules and things like that. You wanted something adventurous for a change but there was hardly something here. When you walked through the gates you found your father walking over the courtyard, he saw you and stopped.
“Where have you been?” He asked you.
“Praying father.” You answered him with a soft polite voice. He didn’t got further on the subject and you walked besides him to the dining room where servants just briging on the food.
“Just in time.” Your father smiled. You were his oldest daughter, the rightfull heir to the throne he had. Your brother came in and took his pleace on the table so you followed.
“I’m going hunting tomorrow.” You brother said. You putted a piece of chicken in your mouth and slowly started to chew while looking at your father.
“That’s a great idea, you can use the experience.” He nodded.
“Can’t I come?” You asked. Both your father and brother looked at you as if you said something really stupid before they began to laugh.
“You’re a girl Y/n.” My father laughed. You pointed your eyes back to your dinner, ingnoring their laughter.
“My Lord,” You looked up to the guard who walked in. It was hard to behave like you didn’t know him when you were in fact a lot closer to him. You smiled behind your hand while looking at the handsome face Hendrick had.
“What is it?” My father asked.
“The great heathen Army conquered Wessex, it will be a matter of time before they come raid here.” He explained. Your smile disapeared and you looked at your father, he nodded practical.
“Double the guards, set in a curfew for the people. That heathen army will not take over my land.” He nodded strongly. Hendrick bow and gave you a fast gaze before he walked out again. You looked back at your father. “Not hunting, you two stay in the castle from now on.” He commanded the both of you. Great, in so far the adventure you were seeking.

You couldn’t take the risk to be seen so you wore your most neutral dress and a black cloak when you slipped out of the building. You had to see Hendrick one last time before that heathen army would take over the place. You father was confident that he could resist them but if they took Wessex, who had dubble the defenses your father had, what should stop them here? You lurked from behind the wall to the gates, soldiers everywere so you had to find another way to get out. You climed up a wooden shed that gave you acces to the wall. You smiled a little about the adventure you currently had. When non of the guards was looking you let yourself fall on the other side of the wall, running in to the woods. You picked your dress up while carefully walking through the woods to a big shed behind the fields. Hendrick his brown horse stood bound on a pole, trembling a little out of fear when you arrived. You pushed the door under a loud crack open and looked for the guard that stole your heart. “I didn’t thought you would come.” He said. You walked over to him, he pulled you against his body in a tide embrace.
“Do you really think that an heathen army and some extra guards will stop me from seeing you?” You asked smilling. He cupped your face and kissed you tenderly.
“This could be our last time together.” He wispered. You looked at him, in the dim light of the torch his face was more beautifull than ever.
“Than we should make the best of it.” You answered while biting your lip.
“We are Christians Y/n, we shouldn’t do this before marriage.”
“But if it is our last time, who would care? I love you Hendrick.” You pulled on his belt and he smiled in mischief. But for you could go any further you heared his horse calling out, you also heared something else. You looked over your shoulder towards the door. “You heared that?” You asked. Hendrick pressed his lips against your neck, give a little bite and you forgot your surrounding already. His belt felt on the ground when the sheddoor flew open with a load crack. You turned around and looked at … Vikings.

You yelled when they pulled you with your hair back outside. “Y/n, don’t say a word.” Hendrick yelled at you.
“He is a guard, kill him.” One of those men said. You looked at Hendrick while they slitting his throat without any form of mercy. You started to fight back, yelling, crying. “Silent you.” The man grinned, covering your mouth so you couldn’t yell anymore. And even if you could, they wouldn’t hear you, you were way to far from home.
“It’s a long time since we saw a nice looking slavegirl like you.” One of the vikings grinned. Your eyes filled with fear you looked how one of them trew of his belt, opening his pants.
“She isn’t a slave. Leave her.” Somebody said. You looked at the chariot with the white horse in front. You looked at the man who sat on it, piercing blue eyes, a face covered in blood and anger.
“She looks like a slave.” One of the others said. It was clear that the man on the chariot was in charge of the small group.
“That aren’t slaveclothes. And a slave wouldn’t come all the way out here to fuck a guard.” He pointed towards Hendrick. He was challenging his men, the most of them looked away or nodded, the man who was on his way for raping you looked back.
“I saw here first, I want her.” And as a reaction on that the man in the chariot drew his axe and trew it right at the other Viking, hitting him in the chest. The viking felt dead within seconds.
“Somebody else who wants to challenge me today?” He asked harshly towards the other men, their felt a long silence and the man in the chariot nodded satisfied before looking at you. “She’s mine.” He said with a smile, the fear you already had overcame the rest of your body.

They had a camp a couple of miles from your fathers kindom, they were closer than you thought … and they were smaller in numbers to. “I have word from your brothers that they will move north from Wessex.” You heard some of the man say to the man in the chariot. You have heared the stories of the viking Ragnar Lotbrok, he had sons and they were all here now. You looked at the ground but you felt the piercing eyes of that man right through you. You slowly looked up at him, he looked at you rather amuses.
“What are you? A princess?” He asked you. Your hand was folded around the little cross around your neck. “And a Christian.” He nodded before he looked at the other men. “Bring her to my tent.” He commanded them. They pulled you forward between the other vikings in. They all looked at you and maybe you should be glad that that men took you for himself, otherwise there wouldn’t be much left if they all did their thing with you. They bound your hands together, sat you secure on a pole in his tent. And then he came in … or rather he crawled in. You looked over his body to his legs who just laid there while he pulled his body further. “Never seen a cripple before?” He asked. You looked back at the ground, determined to be silent the whole time. He crawled towards you, pulled a knife. In fear you started to back away from him, he only laughed about it before cutting your restrains. “You can run away,” he pointed towards the exit while holding his head tilted. “But I told them that if you do they could have you. By the looks of it you never had a man before, can tell you that we vikings have a slightly different approach.” He explained amused. You let your fear and emotions not in the way of looking at him with a sort of confident. “Or you can stay here, give me some information, please me instead.” That was the deal you got from him. Your eyes gazed to the exit before looking back at him, you didn’t move. “Good choise.” He grinned. He pulled two cups and filled it with something you didn’t knew. He offered you one but you didn’t take it, you just watched. “Do you have a name?” He asked without looking up from his cup. He brought it to his lips and drank it out in one go. When he looked at you again his eyes were a little impatient. He was handsome … despite for the legs. He wasn’t that hard to look at.  “I killed my brother a couple of days ago so I’m not in the mood for your silence treatment. You gonna talk, if your want it or not.” He threatened. He killed his own brother? Why would he do that? Maybe he was lying, to get you to talk. So you lifted your chin a little, stubborn like always. His grinn disapeared and you swallowed the fear away. “Is it not a Christian thing, to put you on a cross if you didn’t obay the rules?” He asked rather silent. He putted your cup away and moved closer, catching your hand before you could pull it away. He forced your hand flat on the ground and pierced his knife right through the middle of it. You started yelling tried to pull away but he was so strong. “Like this?” He asked, looking a you with that grinn on his face you discust.
“Please.” You begged him softly, tears rolling down your face. He pulled his knife out of your hand, watching your blood sinking into the earth before he looked at you wet face.
“Hush now, I told you I wasn’t that patience.” He wispered while running his fingers over your cheek. You closed your eyes, trying to ignore his fingers over your skin. “Tell me, what’s your name?” He asked.
“Y/n. I’ m the princess.” You answered him quietly. You opened your eyes, looking at him. “And yes, I’m the heir to the trown, so if you want to bargain with me for surrender, it might work.” You get further. The cripple pulled back, smiling like an idiot.
“I’m not gonna bargain, you didn’t heared what I said before, you’re mine now.” He petted you on the knee and you only could stare to him while he ripped some fabric apart and start wrapping your bleeding hand. “Sorry for that, have anger issius that need working on. I’m Ivar by the way.” He looked up at you, still whit that cocky irritante smile of his. “Nice meeting you Y/n.” He said.

One In The Same

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam, Bobby

Word Count: 2,806

Warnings: None

Request:  Can you do a Dean imagine where Bobby called a friend to help with a case but he had to send his daughter? And it just so happens that the daughter is basically a female Dean so Sam sets them up on a date.

Author’s Note: Please leave requests, I love to get them and read them! If you want to be tagged in my future fics and my Series Rewrite that is coming soon, let me know! Feedback is always appreciated!

@jensen-jarpad @supernatural-jackles @jpadjackles @impala-dreamer @scarlet-soldier-in-an-impala @notnaturalanahi @mysteriouslyme81 @inmysparetime0 @wildfirewinchester @deathtonormalcy56 @27bmm @just-another-busy-fangirl

If you do not wish to be tagged, let me know and I’ll remove you. 

Originally posted by yourfavoritedirector

You’ve always been a lone hunter. When your mom died by a Djinn, your dad did everything he could to kill the monster. You were old enough to know what was real and what was just in your imagination and monsters were very much real.

Eventually, your dad killed the thing but he couldn’t stop there. He actively searched for monsters and killed them, protecting people and saving lives. He trained you like he was your drill sergeant so that once he was gone, you could take over and save people.

You didn’t have much of a choice but did as you were told anyways. Your father died not long ago and it broke your heart because you were the one to kill him. A demon was possessing you and did awful things that you’d rather not talk about. You busied yourself to shut the pain off but you were broken inside. You didn’t have anyone left or anywhere to go.

Yes, you’ve met hunters along the way but they were your dad’s friends. You’ve met Bobby Singer, Ellen and Jo, Frank and Rufus. They always asked for your dad’s help but he was gone now. You kept everything he owned, even his cell phone. No one but you know he died so if his phone rings, you assumed it would be another hunter.

You always had it on you but not one phone call came in. You were glad in a way because you liked hunting alone. You haven’t met another hunter that was the same as you so you never tried to find them.

You were at a bar, drinking a whiskey when you heard a phone ring. You knew that ringtone anywhere. You pulled out your dad’s phone and gulped. You answered it, putting it to your ear.

“Hello?” You asked quietly. You didn’t know who it was because your dad never saved any contacts.

“Is Y/D/N there?” You heard a man ask.

“I’m sorry, who is this?”

“Bobby Singer.” Your eyes widened at the name. You hadn’t seen him since you were a small child.

“Bobby? Are you okay?” He wouldn’t be calling unless it was an emergency.

“Who is this?” Bobby demanded.

“Y/N Y/L/N. Remember me?” You downed the rest of your whiskey and put a twenty on the counter. You got up and walked out of the bar and to your 1959 Cadillac Series 62.

“Y/N? It’s good to hear your voice but where is your dad?” You bit your lip and got behind the wheel but didn’t turn the car on.

“Dead.” You whispered.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for calling then.”

“No, it’s fine. You always call for a reason. What’s up?”

“I’m working a case with Sam and Dean and I could really use your help.”

“Those are John’s boys, right? I remember you mentioning your friend John and his kids. I’ve never met them but I’ll come out to you. Where are you?” You grabbed a piece of paper and a pen.

“Phoenix, Arizona. How far away are you?”

“Only a few hundred miles. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” You hung up before he could ask anything else and you sighed. Time to hit the road again. At least you’ll be busy this time.

Keep reading

Not Your Enemy

Pairing: Finn Bálor x Reader

Warnings: Arranged marriage, angst, language, brief graphic death (nightmare), emotional hurt/comfort, very lightly implied smut.

Word Count: 1317

Prompts: This one and this one

Song Inspiration: Not Your Enemy by Jesse McCartney (don’t judge - it just seemed fitting)

A/N: Hello hello! So yesterday, the amazing @deseraysmiththings posted these great writing prompts involving arranged marriage with the Demon King. I wrote a drabble for one that ultimately inspired this one-shot. I really hope you all like it.

Quick reminder for new readers just joining in (hi new readers!): normally, I write fics for Supernatural. However, I’m also a huge fan of WWE and love reading the works of that community as well. After reading some brilliant pieces from - and chatting with - the amazing @devitt-club, I got inspired to write a fic featuring one of my current favorites: Finn Bálor. So I’m new to the WWE fanfic crowd and couldn’t be more thankful for the love I’ve received so far.

Originally posted by thearchitectwwe

Keep reading

Just a Soldier

Pairing: Robb x Reader

Note: Someone liked when I did alternate Westeros concepts so I thought it would be interesting if Robb wasn’t born a Stark and the heir of Winterfell was actually a woman. 

Summary: Robb is nothing but a soldier from Bear Island who has been dragged into the Battle of the Bastards to fight for House Stark. Y/N is the oldest child of Eddard and Catelyn Stark making her Queen in the North. With the help of her half-brother, their direwolves, and an army of Wildlings, she’s planning on taking back her home from Ramsay Bolton and try to find the happiness she lost years ago. 


Winter was coming. 

It was the phrase every Stark knew by heart. Though, the constant reminder from both her mother and father of their house words had easily become an annoyance as she was growing up. Yet, now that she was older, she understood their importance. 

Not only that, but with the faintest of smiles she only reserved for herself in the privacy of her tent, she would silently admit to her father that he had been right all along.  The air was growing colder, the snow was falling harder, and the wolves seemed to howl more than usual at the soon to be Winter sky. 

Winter wasn’t just coming anymore, winter was almost here; and that meant she needed to get home before the storms would start. 

What once were just words had become the fuel that ignited the growing fire of rage that burned deep in her belly that tried effortlessly to break free and set the world aflame. 

If only Arya could see her like this; she wouldn’t even recognize her big sister, but Y/N knew she would be proud. It had been years since she last saw her little sister, and if it wasn’t for Arya being Arya, maybe they could have been reunited by now. Brienne tried, she told Y/N the story of her, Arya, and The Hound. Y/N already knew how the story was going to end before Brienne had even made it there. 

The point was, Y/N was far from what Arya could remember and she was ready to prove that. Of course, she was ready for a reunion with Bran and Rickon as well. After she had helped them escape off with Hodor and Osha, she had counted down the days when she’d see her boys again. For now though, Y/N had Jon and that was enough. Actually, it was way more than enough. 

Keep reading

Free to Be You and Me - Part 3

Word Count: 1700

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Language, SPN typical violence

A/N: Unedited. Mistakes and fuckups are all mine. 

Constructive feedback welcome and very much appreciated.

Series Rewrite Masterlist

“God can’t die.” You sounded so sure of yourself it even surprised you. “That’s just stupid.”

“There’s no other explanation.” Raphael looked at you again, his eyes raking over you like you were some sort of grand prize. It was horribly uncomfortable but you stood your ground, unwavering. “He’s gone for good.”

“You’re lying.” Cas snapped. His voice broke a little, clearly trying not to believe Raphael but part of him did.

“Am I?” Raphael challenged. “Do you remember the twentieth century? Think the twenty-first is going any better? Do you think God would have let any of that happen if He were alive?” His point was a valid one. A lot of horrible things had happened that would prove there was no God, and if there was he didn’t give a damn.

“Oh yeah?” Dean laughed. “Well then who invented the Chinese basket trick?”

Keep reading

Hope [Rick Grimes x Reader]

Hi, I have to say your blog is purely fantastic and I was looking for fics like this for so long xD And I’d like to request something: reader comes to Alexandria after escaping from some guys who used to do terrible things to her but she had to remain with them to survive. She doesn’t tell anyone, but one day she opens up to Rick. He gets really angry and goes after them and when he returns he makes her understand that no one will ever touch her again(except for him).I hope I’m not asking much ;)

Here you go @whyso-se-ri0us! I hope you like it! 💘

Words: 2,161

Warnings: Violence, Implied Sexual Assault, PTSD, Panic attack

A/N: I’m baaaaccccckkkkk! And NO SMUT! Are you surprised? Sorry I’ve been MIA for the past couple of days. I have been so exhausted and needed the rest.You’ve all been so wonderful and understanding! I truly have the best followers around! Okay, okay, enough with my babbling.

Keep reading

Paul Lahote 。˚✧ Don’t Keep It

Requested: Yes.
Warnings: Slight torture?

(Y/N Uley) knew the legends of her tribe – she also knew that all of the stories Billy Black told them at the bonfires were true. Wolves, vampires, imprinting. All of them.

What she also knew was that Paul Lahote had imprinted on her. The bad tempered wolf tried to hide it from her because he didn’t think he deserved her. (Y/N) was a shy and kind hearted girl; he didn’t want to break that.

“You alright, Paul?” she asked with a frown. “Has something happened?”

“N – no,” he shook his head. “I’m good.”

He felt so guilty for not telling her about the imprint. He wanted to, he really did. He just didn’t want to hurt her. He knew how angry he could get sometimes and phase from the slightest of arguments. She didn’t deserve that. (Y/N) deserved so much more than he could offer.

“Tell me when you need anything, okay?” she asked worriedly.

“I will,” he nodded.

Keep reading

warning signs // pcy // 8

Originally posted by foreverxoxoexo

→ mafia!au
→ in which two respectively fucked up people found a way to love each other despite the warning signs.
→ word count: 2k
→ song of the chapter: junk of the heart (happy) by the kooks
→ *ooo i wanna know are yall on team kjd or pcy 😪 so let me know

Keep reading

“Lie to me.”

After Denise’s death, Daryl decided to go looking for Dwight. You asked him, he lied, and you let him did it.

Request made by prince-of-edolas: Remember how Denise died and Daryl tried to go after him? Could you do a smut request like that? After Denise died by Dwight, Daryl tries to go after him but his wife tries to stop and says that she’s worried about him and a smut scene happens. But after that, Daryl leaves anyways so Glenn, Michonne, and Rosita go after him and they confront Daryl, telling him how him leaving affected the reader. - 

I hope this is close to what you asked for ^^!

  • Daryl Dixon x Reader
  • Words: 1.747
  • Warning: Smut (unprotected sex) (Sorry for the grammar mistakes)

“Protect each other. Love each other. You have a wife, Daryl, but life could change in a second…” Denise’s voice sounded anxious as she tried to make him understand. “And if you don’t wake up-”

He covered his ears with his hands, his cigar lighted between his fingers. Sitting on the edge of the bed, accompanied only by the morning light that came through the window, the silence of the room brought back the sound of the arrow that pierced Denise’s eye. He still could hear the sound of her voice telling him what to do, he could see the wrong place she was standing, and he understand the big mistake he made in letting Dwight live.

He got out of bed and left the room. The weight of guilt was on his shoulders, and it was painful, like a dark shadow that hovered over him. But he had to solve the problem before it got worse; he had to amend the mistakes he thought he had made. Denise was the wrong target, and he was convinced it was his fault. Empty. Impotence. Frustration. Hate. He felt the same feelings that tormented him before he met you.

He reached the kitchen and saw you there, standing against the counter. Your eyes were slightly red from the tears you hadn’t cried, from the worry, from the decisions you knew he would make, because you knew you couldn’t stop him from trying to do something.

“I need to do this.” He said quietly, dropping the cigar to step on it. “The only way you and the others will be safe is if Dwight and his group die.”

Exposing himself to protect you and others wasn’t selfish, but it was unfair. The mistakes that life made always fell upon him, and it was always him who should feel guilty for a death that wasn’t his fault.

“I know you’re doing this for Denise, but she wouldn’t have wanted to-”

“But she’s not here anymore!” He shouted. “She is not here and will not return because an arrow killed her!” He walked around the place like a wild animal inside a cage. “Because of an arrow that should have killed me! She would be alive if I had not been such a coward. She died because I made a mistake.” He stopped in front of you, dropping his gaze to the ground completely ashamed. “I ruined it.”

How much pain could fit in a person’s body? How heavy could be the pain he shouldn’t feel?

“I love you.” He said softly, and you closed your mouth before you could say anything when he finally looked up. “I know I don’t say it too many times and I’m sorry. I try to be what ya need and although I’m not good enough for ya, you decided to be with me, you married me. I love you like I’ve never loved anyone and I just…” He approached you, so close you could smell the cigar. “I need you. I just need you.”

He pushed you against the counter with his body, his lips crashing against yours in a hard and deep way. You could taste the cigar mint; in his hot tongue with he slipped it inside of your mouth. He grabbed your waist, pushing you up so you could sit in the cold counter. Between your high boots to your knees and your big black sweatshirt, your exposed skin felt the coolness of the place and then the warmth of his hands when you wrapped them around his hips. He made his way up to your body under your clothes before he pulled out your sweatshirt out of your body. The softness of your skin was addictive and he stroked your back, kissing your neck while you pushed his vest and his shirt off of him. His strong arms closed around you as your hands brushed his hair, your lips kissing his temple.

He unbuckled and unzipped his pants before pulling your shorts and underwear off of your legs. You pulled his face to you and bit his bottom lip softly, looking into his dark eyes full of lust. He held you against his naked body, as he slipped inside you, filling you completely, making you gasp in pleasure. He growled without looking at you, holding you by your waist so he could thrust into you, over and over. With your hands on his shoulders, you moaned his name in the cold air every time he hit the right places inside of you, feeling his heavy breath as he pushed himself harder. The tingling between your legs was growing every second, taking you to the edge, and he hid his face in your neck when his movements became urgent, needy. Your grip on his neck tightened as you moaned in his ear.

With one final push, he released himself inside of you, and he sighed heavily as he lifted his face to kiss you once more time. Your heart was beating fast, and you pulled away to looked at him, pushing his hair away from his eyes.

“You will go. Won’t you?”

Your saw the truth in his blue eyes, and you felt scared, weak, and unprotected. His eyes sought in yours for the answers he needed most, for your forgiveness, for the decisions you would make after his departure.

“No.” He said softly, lying in your face although you already knew the truth.

But you let him lied to you.              

You both dressed again without saying much. Now that Denise wasn’t there, Rick asked you to take her place, and although you were a veterinarian and not a doctor, you would try to do your best. Loneliness walked with you all the way to the pharmacy that felt so empty, but at the same time you felt her presence in there. As you waited silently, putting in order the medicines that she had gone to look for next to Daryl and Rosita, the roar of the motorcycle made your heart race, your heartbeat beating in your chest. The knot in your throat intensified, and you felt sick, because you knew that even though he loved you so much, nothing would convince him to leave, not even you.

But you needed to be strong; you had to wait for the best, you just had to wait for him to come back.

Only Rosita knew where Daryl was going, and when they couldn’t stop him at the gate, she, Glenn and Michonne took the car to go after him, to try to stop him before he made a mistake that cost him his life. In the open road next to the train tracks, with the haze behind them, Rosita and Glenn walked to the place where Denise died. Her blood on the rocks and part of the wood was drying. Close to them, the walkers ate the flesh of the dead ones.

“This is where she died.” Rosita said looking at the spot.

Down the hill, Michonne killed some walkers with her sword.

“So he should have started from here.” Glenn looked around.

“He did.” Michonne said after she removed some bushes, watching Daryl’s motorcycle hiding under them.

Glenn looked at it and walked to Rosita.

“Which way did Dwight run?” He asked, but she was too deep in the blood to hear him. “Rosita.”

She looked at him, thinking deeply of what had to be done about Denise’s death.

“We should let him do this.”

Glenn looked at her with surprise.

“No. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. We don’t. Maybe Daryl is gonna get himself killed. And what will happen with (Y/N) then?” He tried to make her understand. “Which way did Dwight run?”

She thought that the best thing to do was to kill Dwight, it didn’t matter how. She looked over his shoulder, giving him an indication with her head to tell him what way they should follow. Glenn seemed to be wary of her decisions, but they walked the right path. They walked a few miles in the woods looking for a track that would take them to Daryl, but out of nowhere an arrow hit a tree close to Rosita’s face, and she pulled it out with an angry expression.

Daryl took it from her hand and walked away.

“You shouldn’t have come.” He said with frustration, leaving them behind.

“You shouldn’t have left.” Michonne said with the same tone.

They could never understand him, and he turned around to face them.

“When I split up with Sasha and Abraham, he was out there in the woods. In the forest, he put a gun in ma head. ¡He tied me up! I even tried to help him.”

Daryl tried to leave them, but Glenn’s words stopped him.

“So, this is your fault?” Glenn said walking to him.

Daryl turned around to face him.

“I know it is. Now I’m going to do what I should have done before.”

“For her?” Glenn walked toward him and pushed him back so he could block Daryl’s way. “She’s gone, man. You are doing this for you. Not even to protect (Y/N) from them.” Daryl looked at him, swinging his weight from one foot to the other, unable to stay in his place when he heard Glenn saying your name. “A bullet in someone’s head is not the way to protect those we love, not if that puts our life in danger. You just feel guilty for a death that you didn’t cause. Daryl…” Glenn looked at him with a silent plea. “I know you couldn’t live if something happened to (Y/N). But you don’t want to understand that she could not live without you either. Or maybe you are too afraid to think about it. But we will figure this out from home. Our home. My wife is there with your wife. They need us right now. Everyone there needs us right now. Is gonna go wrong out here.”

Daryl shook his head slowly.

“I can’t.”

Glenn’s shoulders fell.

“I guess you don’t love her as much as I thought.”

Daryl narrowed his eyes at him. He loved you sincerely, not matter what others thought. Daryl passed him by, stopping himself far from them and he looked over his shoulder.

“If something happens, sooner or later she will be able to move on. She is braver, smarter… stronger. And If I return, I just hope she forgives me.”

angst prompt: Hibari falling in love with Tsuna’s wife and Tsuna using this to control his Cloud.

…He threw you on the bed and started tearing at your clothes like an animal gone rabid. He marked every piece of skin he could free and reveled in your cries of pain and pleasure. He relished in the feel of your skin and the feel of himself grinding desperately between your legs.

He moaned as you gouged at his back with your nails in futile vengeance and he sealed your cries with an unforgiving, hungry kiss as he shoved your legs apart and thrust himself inside you.

You wanted him… You wanted this… Just the very thought made him want to come so hard…! Just the thought made him so damned hungry he trembled with the want.

He watched you blush and moan as you practically tore at the sheets every time he pushed inside you. He listened to you whimper every time he slid out. He breathed hard as he tried to keep himself in control because you were so close… So close…

And when you opened your lips his heart strained with all its eagerness to hear you call out his name when you finally came―


Kyoya started as he woke up, breathing hard, his heart beating a mile a minute. With a frustrated growl he reached for his phone and glared at the caller id. His hand trembled even as his heart twisted at the name of Sawada Tsunayoshi.

“What?” he finally answered the phone. Trying to keep his usual monotone in place and hide the breathy trembling behind it.

“Sorry for the wake up call, Kyouya,” the Decimo greeted, genuinely apologetic. “I know it’s late but there’s something I thought you ought to know.”

The Cloud-user scowled. He wanted nothing more than to slam the damned phone down into a brick wall and hope the caller felt the impact. Instead he took a deep breath and tried to calm down. “I’m listening.”

“I want you to stop Foundation’s operations on that yakuza clan you’ve been hot on lately.”

“What?” Kyouya bit back through gritted teeth. He had been ready to slaughter that damn Family for months now, especially since the clan heir was a no good bastard who dared try and claim property on the edges of Namimori. How dare Sawada try and stop him?!

“I know how you feel,” Tsuna replied calmly on the other line. “But killing them off is not the time. There’s something I want from them and until I know where it is, keep your hands off but your eyes on them.”

Kyouya gritted his teeth at this. “Three of my men had already been tortured and killed by these herbivores. I am not going to allow them to stay on Namimori ground for one more day, Sawada Tsunayoshi.”

“I know how you feel, believe me,” Tsuna replied with a sigh. “Just please, trust me on this.”


“…Fine, if you really want to know the truth,” Kyouya scowled as he waited for the Vongola don to give him an answer he could accept. Something that he would not have to throw back in his damned face. “They’ve been asking for an alliance. My wife is asking me to give them a chance, I think she likes the clan’s daughter.”

Kyouya stopped dead at the mention of you. He sat still, feeling numb.

And Tsuna continued. “Just give me a little time to assess them. My wife and I will be meeting them the day after tomorrow to talk.”

The thought of you being near such herbivorous creatures made Kyouya break out of his numbness as near crazed anger borne out of concern overwhelmed him. “ARE YOU INSANE?! WHY WOULD YOU TAKE HER NEAR THOSE BASTARDS! WHAT IF THEY HURT HER?! WHAT IF THEY BETRAY YOU?!”

Tsuna smirked sadly on the other line. It would never cease to amaze him how easily Kyouya betrayed himself when it came to his wife. “Then why don’t you come with us for security then? You should be able to keep things under control, right?”

Bastard, Kyouya thought bitterly as he glared at the phone in his hand. Goddamned bastard. “Fine.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Kyouya. I’m sure my wife would enjoy seeing you again. Right, dear?”

“Who is that, Tsuna?”

At the sound of your voice Kyouya held the phone with both hands and held his breath, staring at the object he had wanted to destroy earlier as though it had turned into something precious. Like a lifeline he won’t be able to live without. Longing and want made him still. Too scared you would retreat and stop speaking if you heard him breathing.

“It’s Kyouya, dear. He says he’ll come and be our bodyguard when we visit the Todoroki Clan.”

“Really? Thanks, Kyouya!” that dear voice called out happily from the other line and Kyouya closed his eyes in painful bliss as he allowed your words to wash over him. He held the phone desperately closer to him. Each word and the very thought of you speaking right beside his ear making his whole being strain towards your presence. And if he could drown himself just by the sound of your voice he would have already died in it. “I’ll feel safer when you’re there.”

“There you have it,” Tsuna’s voice was smug and it was all Kyouya could do not to beg him to put you back on the phone so he could hear her talking all night long. “Good night, Kyouya.”

No. No! Put her back on the phone! Let me hear her voice just a little bit longer!

But the line was already dead. The only thing left of him was a picture of you smiling gently, permanently etched on his phone’s wallpaper and Kyouya couldn’t stop himself from chasing all lingering traces of you by pressing his lips against your still, oblivious image. Hopelessly needing you. Mindlessly wanting you. Imagining how you smelled like right now. All warm and soft and heavenly…

His dream from earlier came back to haunt him as he stared at your inanimate face still pressed against his lips and with a desperate groan his hand slipped under the sheets and began stroking himself…


He closed his eyes and threw his head back in a moan as he recalled how you said his name just now…


His hips thrust upwards desperately again and again; imagining your mouth enveloping his erection.


He cried out your name as he came hard, thinking of you straddling him. Spilling himself inside you as he thrust into his hand again and again, whispering sweet nonsense into your imaginary ear. Promising everything and nothing and maybes in between…

And when he finally lay in his bed, spent and panting Kyouya crossed his forearms over his eyes and wept silently.

He was nothing but a puppet now. A puppet of a man who knew how he felt about you. Living in the hopeless battle of loving a person he can’t have. He lost his strength, his reason, his pride with just the sound of your voice or even a reminder of your existence.

And if anyone ever asked he would have to say his biggest regret was that he was not able to meet you first…