violently in your face


pairing: taegi | reader

genre: smut + polyamory with taegi

word count: 2,738

request: oral with yoongi + taehyung 

description: Finals week has you stressed, so your boyfriends decide to help you out. 


“You need to relax,” One set of words whispered against the shell of your ear, the harsh husk of his voice sending a violent thudding straight through the center of your chest. You turned to face the devilish curve of his feline lips, perfectly paired with darkened eyes that insinuated everything that he was thinking of in that moment. But you didn’t even have time to contemplate a response, a response that would have without a doubt been shaky and tortured, before a second set of words appeared.  

“Yeah, let us take care of you,” Was whispered in a deep timbre at the side of your neck, so low and lustful that it caused a string of delectable vibrations to scatter across your skin. You moved almost immediately at the sound of his voice, eyes catching the way his lips transformed into a boxy-smile.

Keep reading

You know, a lot of people might wonder

“How do you play as Zenyatta?” Well, the answer is obvious.
Unleash all the pent up rage that lurks within your heart as you aggressively float towards the enemy team and attempt to 1v6 them.
Throw your discord orb on a different enemy every three seconds.
Throw your orbs around with reckless abandon.
Violently kick the enemy in the face while saying hello.
Ignore your team’s cries for healing.
Pretend that you are invincible.
Become one with Tankyatta.



Leonard Snart making you wear his parka when you’re cold.

“Aren’t you cold now?” You asked Leonard, resting your head on his shoulder and snuggling deeper into the parka you wore.

“Hardly.” Leonard held your hand and pulled you closer against his body, offering you even more warmth. “I happen to like the cold.”

You shook violently as another gush of icy wind blew on your face. “I don’t understand how anyone can like this kind of weather.”

Leonard chuckled and tucked your head under his chin. “If it means I get to sit like this with you, I couldn’t care less about the weather.”

Smiling, you turned your head a little and lightly kissed his neck, unable to reach anywhere else without exposing yourself even more to the freezing cold. “You’re such a softie.” You teased him.

“Only for you.” Leonard hummed.

Teen Wolf Preferences- When He Gets Jealous...


When Stiles gets jealous, you could spot it as easily as a speck of dirt on a white dress. He’d trudge around with glaring eyes and keep you glued to his side at all times. However, Stiles had a soft spot for resolving things with long hugs.


Scott turns into a hormonal 16-year old girl when he gets jealous. Punching his locker one minute and glaring at you the next. He gives into your puppy eyes and ends up peppering your face with kisses.


Isaac became Mr. Violent when he saw you talk to another guy. Lockers would become dented, and boys in the same lacrosse period as him would end up walking to the nurses office with a few broken bones here and there. His weakness revolved around your surprise back hugs.


It was no secret when Liam got jealous. Face red from scoring lacrosse goals, veins pulsing from his forehead, and growls coming from his throat. You discovered that the only way to soothe him was by hugging him tightly while pressing kisses to his forehead.


Brett loved giving you a taste of what it felt like to be jealous. He’d secretly ask Lydia to flirt with him while you stood across the hallway gawking in awe. After a couple of minutes, he ended up walking towards a fuming you, apologizing with kisses and carrying you to class.


Theo liked to pretend he wasn’t jealous. You loved watching him grit his teeth, trying not to punch a wall or someone. At the end of the day, he grabbed you by the arm, stood in the middle of the hallway, and kissed you smack dab on the lips, proving to everyone that you were his.

Doin a little late night thinking and remembered an idea I had of Antisepticeye/Darkiplier theory stuff.

So Anti comes across as violent, angry, erratic, with an intensity that is very in your face. I have this theory that Anti is an older, more experienced entity. He’s been around the block a few times, he knows what he wants.

Dark however, seems younger. He still has that “I want to please you but also destroy you” thing in him (referenced in the Chocolate Ending of A Date with Markiplier). He’s more manipulative and cunning than Anti. He doesn’t have that erratic-ness that Anti has, he’s much more calm and collected. His humanity still shows through here and there, as opposed to Anti, whose humanity seems to be long gone.

But the argument could also go the other way. Dark is so cool and collected (except for the occasional rage thing, but that only happens sometimes) that I wonder if he’s had enough time to train himself to be that calm.

However, Anti is so erratic and violent, and completely unable to control his rage, that maybe he’s the younger entity. He just hasn’t had the time to develop the kind of manipulative control that Dark has.

My main idea is that both are pretty close in age, it’s a little too early in their character developments to see how they’re going to act under different conditions, etc.

Anyway, that’s my theory in a nutshell, I hope you enjoyed reading it. ^-^

I am so glad I don’t care about the opinions of tumblrs mass population, I enjoy so many things that the majority has decided is evil awful things that deserve to have their fans and fandom post attacked and desecrated 

This is my Space Merpony, Alnita!

She is a basic Space Merpony.

She lives in the Orion constellation.

Be very careful around her, because she is a grump! Especially don’t ask her “why she’s so angry all the time”… She might explode a star in your face. She’s not usually too violent, though. If she gets mad, she’ll just yell/try to intimidate or scare others, then swim off in a huff.

Space Merponies are an open species created by the marvelous @ask-heathersweetfeathers!

I am so sick of white people trying to turn Dr. King into some non-confrontational white icon. Simple truth is that he wasn’t. He was absolutely confrontational, he was in your streets, in your face. Yes, he called for non-violent civil disobedience, but he also understood something white people never will. Let’s just say this… If you are more upset by the ‘Riots’ in North Carolina than the deadly police shootings of Black and Latino men in our streets, you simply don’t understand. Dr. Martin Luther King was not apologetic about black people standing up and demanding their rights, he was the one leading the charge! So don’t try and shame black people by posting MLK quotes about peace and love, while ignoring the fact that he understood the pain that caused those riots. Dr. King would not be sitting on FOX news apologizing for damaged police cars and trying to comfort white people, he would be right there in the front line marching through the streets, demanding justice.

Can’t Feel My Face

This request was from my lovely Sabrina @winter–plum. Hope you like it!

Originally posted by moan-s

“I can’t feel my face,” You breathed out, teeth chattering violently. Your clothes were damp from falling so many times while ice skating (You blamed Bucky for the amount of times you fell; he was anything but graceful on the ice, and bumped into you so many times it was maddening).

Bucky chuckled deep in his chest, tucking you under his arm. His breath fanned against your cheek when he pressed a kiss to your temple.

“You wanna get some hot chocolate, maybe it’ll warm you up?” He suggested, already tugging you in the direction of the little cafe that lay on the corner.

“With whip cream,” you grinned up at him, numb lips ghosting over his jawline, “you always forget the whip cream.”

The warmth that greeted you when you entered the cafe was amazing. Your entire body seemed to melt into Bucky’s side, a relaxed gleam entering your eyes.

He rolled his eyes at you, “Right, right.”

You watched as he approached the counter, everyone inching away from his large form. Your lips twitched with a smile as everyone stared at him, a look of pure awe passing over their faces. You couldn’t blame them; he was all muscle, sharp angles, and hair. You nearly swooned at the sight of him all bundled up in a leather jacket, a sweatshirt underneath, and a hat on his head.

He turned, his large hands dwarfing the cups of hot chocolate. You grinned when he set it down on the table in front of you.

“This was fun, Buck!” You sighed happily, sipping the hot beverage carefully. You could already feel the warmth in your cheeks returning.

“I had fun, too. Ice skating wasn’t as bad as I thought it was gonna be.”

“That’s because I was the one falling!” You giggled, throwing an unopened packet of sugar at him. His laugh made your heart flutter like a caged bird.

A moment of happy, comfortable silence passed before he spoke again, “Feel your face yet?”

“Gettin’ there!” You chirped, taking a long sip of your drink. You absentmindedly began rearranging the sugar and sweetener packets on the table, singing quietly to the Christmas music that played over the cafe’s speakers. When your eyes flickered up to Bucky’s, you found him staring at you. His eyes had gone soft, lips curved into a tiny smile. You quirked an eyebrow at him, silently asking him what he was looking at.

He leaned across the table, a smirk donning his lips. His metal hand was quick to grasp your scarf and tug you closer, lips finding yours and stealing the air from your lungs while painting your cheeks a bright red. He kissed you hard, tangling one hand in the hair at the base of your neck, while the other framed your face. He pulled away only to press his forehead against yours.

After a moment of heavy breathing, he grinned, “Bet you can feel your face now.”

@whatsbetterthanfantasy @intenselyupset @heismyhunter @angel34jolly-blog @fizzylollipop12 @sofiadiaz04 @hatterripper31 @mellifluous-melodramas @lilasiannerd @poe-also-bucky @james-bionic-barnes

Chief writer for SNL goes full Nazi.

“Leftists always project.
They call you a Nazi, while advocating that you wear the equivalent of a star of David.
They say you’re working with Putin, as they sell 20% of our uranium to Russia.
They say you’re a racist, as they call blacks super predators.
They say you’re a misogynist, as they accuse a 12 year old girl of promiscuity, and older rape victims as “being trash”.
They say you make shady financial deals, as their charity pockets 95% of all donations.
They call you violent as they bloody their knuckles with your face.
They are the dregs of humanity.”
- u/CommentBomber

Hybristophilia - Kit Walker Imagine

“Don’t think I don’t know who you are. The very dangerous bloody face”. You were alone in the bakery with the newly arrived “patient” Kit Walker. Though the two of you had only just met, the chemistry between you couldn’t be any better. Or at least it was easy to be honest with him. Though he might be one of the most dangerous criminals there, and you didn’t quite buy his abducted by aliens theory.

“Does everyone know who I am”? He replied actually sounding quite interested.

“We all seem to. Guess we all have hybristophilia”.

“Have what”? He pulled a confused face.

“Hybristophilia. Attraction to violent criminals”. You laughed at your own joke, and luckily so did he. He did not need to know that a few of the other patients did in fact have it.  “Did you do it”? The words came flying out of your mouth before you could stop them, and you immediately regret having said them.

“Would you believe me if I told you”? He went from looking hungrily at his finished bread, to looking at you.

“You seem honest, Kit. Yes I would”.

“No I didn’t do it. Want some of this bread”? He quickly reached out, and broke off a piece of the bread. Which he then stuffed in his mouth.

“Are you gonna take it? You know we will get punished”. You took the piece he was now offering you.

“We made it. We should have some of it”. He said whilst chewing away. You believed him when he said he didn’t do it. However in that case you also felt sorry for him. Because now he was locked up here for the rest of his life, for no reason. Just like you.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you”.

“About what?

"My hybristophilia you bread thieve” you smiled at him.

Boxing - Imagine

“Justin, I don’t know” You giggled as you held one of his boxing gloves between your two hands, tracing your fingers over the branded print “I’m not a violent person, you know?” You giggled once more before hiding your face.

You guys had been working out in the basement for about half an hour now and Justin had been practising his new hobby, boxing, whilst you had been doing the basics like press ups and squats the whole time. Justin suggested you to try boxing out sometime since it could help with stress and self protection and stuff but you never seemed as interested as he was. It was never your type of thing.

“Come on, don’t be a baby” Justin nagged as he handed you the other red and white boxing glove, causing you to roll your eyes “It’ll be fun! You’ll thank me afterwards”

“But I don’t even know how and I don’t wanna hurt you so I guess-“ You began, thinking of any excuse that would quickly slip into your mind.

“That’s why I’m going to teach you and that’s why I use the pads” He replied before grabbing two red and white matching boxing pads to slip around both of his hands.

“Fine.” You huffed, glaring at Justin “Oh and that means I get to pick the movie tonight then”

Cracking a smile, you watched as Justin tugged on his plain white tee to then pull it over his neck, tossing it to a side, revealing his defined abs and 90% of his tattoos. Smirking to yourself, you admired the view and slipped on both of his boxing gloves, which somewhat appeared to fit just right.

“Ew Justin! They’re all wet” You stuck your tongue out, giggling at the same time, feeling all of Justin’s previous sweat rub against your skin.

“Babe what do you expect?” He snickered with no shame whilst lifting his hands and balancing them each side of his chest now, ready for you to throw a punch already. No way it would even be classified as a punch, you were almost certain you couldn’t even clench a fist, let alone box. “Now at your own speed and strength, just throw your best punch and try not to hit me”

Biting your bottom lip nervously and smiling at the same time, you swung your arm carefully, not wanting to accidentally hit Justin or anything then smashed your your fist, beneath the boxing glove into the pads which Justin was holding up. Instantly bursting out with laughter, he shook his head, basically implying you already that it was the worst punch ever. You had no anger inside of you to give it your all.

“Weak” Justin smirked before licking his lips “Come on, give it something this time”

“I can’t, it’s easier for you! You’ve had practise and maybe I just wasn’t-“

“It doesn’t need loads of practise. Just pretend that a random chick has decided to flirt with me and I’m enjoying it or something, I don’t know, whatever makes you angry”

Clenching your fists inside of the boxing gloves, you swung your arm up and with the glove, you slammed your fist once more against the pad, but with more passion and temper this time, hearing the pounding noise as they collided. Smiling proudly to yourself, you repeated, this time feeling your pulse even speed up as you smashed one fist after another against each pad, making Justin raise his eyebrows in shock. The feeling was somewhat satisfying and you didn’t even know why.

“Shit baby, that was so good, you got some skill” Justin commented, causing an even wider smile to appear on your face, pleased. “And you’re hot when you’re mad”

Imagine Barba Stopping You from Committing Suicide


1804 words

       You sat on the kitchen floor, holding your knees to your chest. Tears flowed freely from your eyes, and you made no effort to stop their flow or wipe them from your face. Violent sobs shook your entire body. All you wanted was to die, so the pain would finally end. No one will miss me. Everyone will be better off without me. You stared at the bottle of pills in your hand and at the blood dripping from your wrist and thighs, trying to decide whether or not you should leave a note.

       You had been fighting depression for most of your life, and you were exhausted. No amount of therapy or medication had helped, and you were tired of fighting. You had a bottle of pills in one hand, and a glass full of water in the other. You opened the bottle, but were startled when you heard a knock at the door. You stared across the room at the closed door, but made no movement to answer it. “(Y/N)? Open up!!” you immediately recognized the voice of Rafael Barba, an ADA whose office you cleaned every night. More often than not, he was in his office when you cleaned it. You had made small talk with him a few times, but you didn’t think he even knew your name, let alone knew where you lived. “(Y/N)? (Y/N)! I know you’re in there!! Let me in! Please!” the handle turned against the lock, and his knocking intensified for a moment. When you still made no move to answer the door or respond, the knocking stopped, and you heard footsteps quickly walking away.

You felt bad, but even if you wanted to talk to him, you could never let him see you like that. Mascara and eyeliner streaked down your face with your tears, your blood pooled onto the tile floor and soakied into your clothes, and an open pill bottle and glass of water in your hands. No way would you ever let him see you like that. Besides, what did he care about you? You were just the janitor that cleaned his office. He didn’t even know you.

Your sobs didn’t allow you to hear the sound of a key turning in the lock or the sound of Barba’s footsteps rushing toward you. “Oh, my—(Y/N)!” Before you knew what was happening, Barba had gently taken the pill bottle out of your hand and pulled you into his arms. As taken aback as you were, the emotions that were filling your body wouldn’t allow your tears to stop. You had no idea how long you continued to sob into Barba’s chest. You cried until you had no tears left.

When the tears finally subsided, Barba gently pulled back to look at your face. “Why?” he asked quietly. You stared at the floor. “I’m out of reasons not to.” He put his hand under your chin, gently bringing your gaze to meet his. “I’ll give you one. Me.”

“Why do you care? I’m just the janitor that cleans your office. You don’t even know me.” “Is that what you think?” concern etched itself even more deeply into his features. “You’re so much more than that! You’re a beautiful, hardworking girl who has the potential to accomplish anything, and the fact that you don’t realize that just shows how great you really are.” You didn’t respond, your gaze returned to the floor. He was only saying these things to make you feel better, but you didn’t have the energy for an argument.

“Come with me. You need to go to a hospital.” Barba stood up, and took your keys from the counter, pocketing them as he walked back towards you. “No,” you said forcefully. “(Y/N), you’re covered in blood. You need medical attention,” Barba argued. “No,” you said again. “I’m not going to a hospital. I’ll be fine. This isn’t the first time I’ve been like this, I can clean myself up. I’ll be fine.” Barba’s brow furrowed in concern upon hearing that you had done this before, and you looked at the floor. You hadn’t intended to tell him that.

“Fine, but I can’t let you be alone tonight.” He crossed the gap between you and lifted your thin frame into his surprisingly muscular arms. You knew he was right, so you silently wrapped your arms around his neck to keep your balance. He closed and locked the door behind him, then walked out the door and hailed a cab. The two of you were silent for the entire drive, and you silently followed him up the stairs and into his apartment.

“Have you eaten anything today?” Barba asked, closing the door behind you.

“I’m not hungry.” Without saying a word, starting down the hallway, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and ordered a pizza—your favorite comfort food. You wondered to yourself how he knew. There were things he knew about you that you were certain you had never shared with him. You sat in the closest armchair, unsure of what to do. Minutes later, he came back, and you were surprised to see him wearing a pair of black sweats and a thin white t-shirt, you had never seen him in anything but a suit. He handed you a similar outfit, gesturing down the hall. “The bathroom is the first door on the left. You can wear these tonight, if you want.”

You took the clothes he offered and walked silently to the bathroom. When you turned on the light, you wished you hadn’t, as your reflection was the first thing you saw. Had you not known better, you would have thought the person staring back at you was a stranger. You stared silently, unable to look away. Your eyes were sunken, with dark purple shadows underneath, and streaks of mascara and eyeliner telling the stories of tears that had fallen earlier in the night. Your shirt was covered in the blood that had dripped from your wrist, and there was a small tear in your shirt just above your belly button you had already forgotten about, where the blade had slipped from your hand, tearing the soft skin of your abdomen.

You were unsure how long you had been standing there when a knock on the door sounded the arrival of the pizza Barba had ordered. The door opened and closed, and you heard Barba come up behind you. You turned to face him, and he looked at you with concern, and another emotion that you couldn’t quite identify. Without saying a word, he stepped past you into the bathroom and retrieved a wet washcloth. He gently wiped the mascara stains from your face. “May I?” he asked, grasping the hem of your shirt, preparing to take it off of you. You nodded silently, and he pulled it over your head and proceeded to clean the cuts on your wrist and abdomen. Unbuttoning your blood-soaked jeans, he again looked into your eyes for permission. You again nodded silently. He pulled down your jeans, and his eyes scanned your legs, his brow furrowing. Sitting on the toilet lid, he cleaned the blood from your thighs that had seeped through your jeans, taking care to be particularly gentle with the gashes that you had inflicted upon yourself.

Tears escaped the corners of your eyes as you watched Barba care for you with more concern than anyone had ever showed you, including yourself. He handed you the clothes he had given you earlier that you had allowed to fall to the floor. You pulled them on, and for the second time that night, Barba lifted you into his arms. He carried you to his bed, the comforter had already been turned down. He gently sat you down. He walked down the hall, returning moments later with the pizza that you had nearly forgotten about, a bottle of water, and a T.V. tray. “Eat something, please.” You were prepared to refuse, but thought better of it when you saw the pleading in his eyes. “I can’t eat it all myself,” you said, patting the sheets next to you. Barba sat on the bed next to you, and when you had started eating, he took a piece himself. You finished your first slice, and before you reached for your second, you looked at Barba. “How do you know so much about me? I don’t remember telling you my favorite food, where I live, or even my name.” He swallowed as a blush swept across his face. “Your cousin is dating my assistant. I may have asked him about you.” You couldn’t hide the surprise on your face.


“Because I wanted to know more about you, and you’re too shy to talk to me. It’s all I can do to get you to say hi to me.” It was your turn to blush.

“I was too intimidated. You’re so attractive and successful, there’s no way you’d want to talk to a janitor.” You quickly took a bite of another piece and looked away when Barba frowned. The two of you finished your pizza in silence, and Barba took the T.V. tray and box back to the kitchen. When he came back, you asked him the question that had been nagging at you all night, talking quickly so you would finish before you lost your nerve.

“Why are you doing all this for me?” You asked quietly, staring at your hands. Kneeling in front of you on the bed, Barba cradled your face in his hands, forcing your eyes to meet his. “Because I love you. I had planned on asking you out when you came to clean my office tonight, but it was someone else in my office. When I asked where you were, they told me that you had quit suddenly, and I knew that something was wrong. I got to your apartment as quickly as I could, because I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you before I got the chance to tell you how I feel.”

You looked down, tears falling from your eyes yet again. Barba gently wiped the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs. Your eyes met his again, and he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. His kiss was gentle at first, but there was a growing urgency to his kiss as he wrapped his arms around you. Your tears continued to flow, and you returned his kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck, and running your fingers through his hair. When you broke apart for air, you buried your face into his shirt, wrapping your arms around his middle. “Thank you,” you murmured into his chest. He answered by holding you a little tighter, and placing a kiss on the top of your head.


*Violentently pushes violins and rock in your face*

red against shirt red against blood,
gold against hair gold against blood,
blue against eyes blue against blood,

burned whispers against my throat,
hands begging to be let in,
left bruises on my rib cage,
seeping into my skin,

our wrists are warm from beating hearts,
and crashing ships and violent orders,
worry etched on your face and, i
know mine makes me look so much older
but i can’t help but wonder,

what a fascinating pair we make,
adrenaline junkie and cautiously afraid

i’ve loved you from the moment
i realized what i’d give to tell, you
i’ve loved you from the moment
i realized i’d follow you into hell,

hands anchored against my wrist,
dragging me along,
i’d follow you into darkness
i’d follow you beyond

—  so you really wanna head back out there, huh? (god help me i do too)


You knew what you were going to see when the walls opened. You were shaking all over, tears welling up in your eyes but refusing to escaped, blurring your vision.
The walls slowly clinked open and you saw his crumpled body laying straight ahead. You collapsed to your knees, the whole world spinning around you. The only family you had left was a mere few feet away from you, lifeless.
You knew people were calling your name above, but you sat in your own bubble of despair and mourning. You couldn’t hear anything. Ben was dead. You had no one left who really could understand you, who would listen and try to meet all your needs, who cared and watched out for you, he was your older brother, he couldn’t be dead.
“He can’t be dead!” You screamed, tears streaming down your face like a violent river.
You were dragged away kicking and screaming inside the Homestead. The placed you on the bed, and left you alone. You curled up in a ball, shaking. The vision of his limp body flashing before your eyes, running through your head. How could they have done this? You know he was losing it, but at least he was alive.

You remained in your room for the next couple of days. The boys would send up someone to bring you food, no communication was exchanged. You sat alone on your bed, reminiscing about the good old days.
The door creaked open, meaning it must be lunch time. But a group of boy came in this time.
They carried a tray of cakes, ice cream, cookies, brownies, all sorts of sweets that you love.
“Hello y/n!” Chuck piped up from the back. You cracked a smile for the first time in days.
“Hello Chuck,” you replied quietly. He plopped down on the bed next to you and you ruffled his floppy curls.
“Frypan whipped these up for you,” Minho placed the tray down on the table and you grabbed a cookie and nibbled.
“I made this for you…” Gally handed you a sidled figure that resembled you and you smiled.
“Thanks,” you looked down.
“Hey, listen, I know it’s tough now. I’m just going to be frank, Ben was a great kid. He was a great brother. He’s in a better place, and honestly he wouldn’t want you crying over him. He would want his beautiful little sister to be happy, move on, make something of herself,” Newt smiled. Ben told you he had a thing for you and you blushed. You denied it to Ben, I mean you weren’t going to tell your brother that you were in love with his best friend.
“Are you still sad y/n?….” Chuck said.
“No, not anymore….Chuck,” you smiled.
“Good! But we’re here for you. I know this isn’t easy. But we care about you and you can talk to us anytime. You aren’t alone,” Thomas said encouragingly.
“He’s right, we’re all still here,” Newt winked.
“Thank you,” as you said that they all ran over for a group hug knocking you down causing you to break a laugh.
“That’s what I like to hear!” Newt giggled.

Shadow- (young) Sirius Black imagine

Requests: Sirius imagine in which he’s a dog but a girl thinks he’s stray so she adopts him and he runs away some weeks later and she’s very sad about it but then she bumps into sirius and he flirts with hrr


I’m the one who asked about the Dog!Sirius. I’m not good at plot idead but can he just be protective over something that happened to reader and end up protecting/defending her (in dog form) sorry for the bad explanation. Thank you!

*Trust me, I can make these work! P.S. I went a little overboard with this…oh well :)*


“Come ‘ere, boy.” You coaxed the dog with ratted, dark fur away from the trash can in the alley way. The dog’s head turned towards you; you hoped he wasn’t a violent dog that would rip your face off for interrupting his meal. The dog’s tail wagged slowly as his eyes met yours. You grinned as the dog fully faced you and ran his nose along the palms of your outstretched hands.

“Good boy!” You said in a baby voice. The dog seemed to almost smile, the ears pricking up happily. “Come on, let’s go get you a bath.”


Wearing shorts and an old t-shirt, you bathed the black fur of the stray you took inside your home until it was as soft as a feather. The damp dog barked quietly and licked your face repeatedly as you sat at the edge of the draining tub.

“What should I call you?” You tapped your chin as you thought to yourself. The dog sat on its hind legs, as if patiently awaiting your decision.

“Noir?” You thought; it was creative…and French for ‘black’, like his fur. The dog growled quickly and you agreed.

“Storm?” You threw out in the air, immediately shaking your head to that as well. After humming to yourself as you listed more names, one finally caught your fancy.

“Shadow?” You leaned over and rested your chin in your hands, studying the dark eyes of the large dog. Your unnamed pup blinked; not really a sign of disapproval. “That will do for now.” You decided. You’d think of something later.


Two weeks passed and ‘Shadow’ was what you stuck with. Not having anything else you really thought suited the black dog, you went with it, and Shadow loved all the attention you gave him. Whether it be softly-spoken compliments or a scratch behind the ears, Shadow couldn’t get enough of you.

“You’re such a good boy!” You kissed the tip of the dog’s nose. “Yes you are!” You giggled as the dog nuzzled your face. Shadow barked happily. Suddenly, his ears pricked up and he jumped to peek over the windowsill near him. He barked rapidly and raced out the door you left open. You launched after him, gasping when he disappeared from sight.

“Shadow!” You cried. “Come back, Shadow!” You sighed sadly and fell to your knees. Shadow wasn’t coming back. Even when you searched the neighborhood, not a sight of your favorite black dog.


Cars passed you in a constant drone as you strolled the streets of London. This part of the city worried you slightly. It was just like any other place in the city, but something was definitely off about it today. But you sucked in a breath and kept pressing forward to get back home.

“Where you headed, darlin’?” A deep voice came from behind you, accompanied by a crash of metal. Damn. Your worst fear was coming true. You walked a little faster, knowing the man the voice came from was walking after you.

“Please, leave me alone.” You sputtered quietly, shakier than you wanted. The man smirked and roughly grabbed your shoulder.

“I just need a little something before you go.” He drawled; the man reeked of alcohol. You gagged at the strong smell. Out of the corner of your eye, a dark shape crept from the shadows silently.

“Let go of me!” You screamed as loud as you could. As soon as the words left your mouth, the dark shape lept from the shadows and tackled the man to the ground. You gasped, both relieved and shocked. “Shadow!” You breathed. You were too scared to move still. The man yelled out in pain and shoved Shadow off of his chest and ran for it, your run-away dog chasing after him, determined. You collapsed back on your backside as you attempted to catch your breath.

“Hey, are you alright, love?” A new voice joined, a nice ring to his words.

“I-I think so. My dog, he chased after that man.” You told the stranger. Facing the new voice fully, you quite liked the face it came from. Dark, chin-length  hair framed the boy’s face. His body was slim and built. It almost looked as if he was breathing heavily, and trying to hide it.

“You’re ok now, gorgeous.” The boy smiled charmingly. You blushed and grabbed the hand reaching out to you. The boy swepty you into his arms, carrying you bridal style. You blushed deeper and wrapped one arm around his neck.

“What’s your name?” The handsome stranger asked.

“Y/N.” You answered. “And yours?”

“Sirius. Sirius Black.” He winked. You looked into those sparkling eyes of his; they looked familiar.

“Well, Sirius Black, why are you carrying me? I can walk perfectly on my own.” Sirius chuckled lightly.

“Thought I’d help a beautiful girl after the event she just suffered.” The boy explained. You rolled your eyes teasingly.

“In that case, thank you, Sirius Black.” You teased. Sirius looked down at you.

“So…” He lifted his chin suspiciously. “This dog. Have you had him long?”

“No.” You sighed sadly. “He ran away. And we had such a good time! I thought he wanted to stay.” You complained.

“Hey, how about you tell me about these good times? Remember the good, not the bad.” Sirius suggested. You smiled and decided ‘why not?’.


Thanks for requesting!

Personal Bodyguard (Part Five)

Summary: After recent events, your father has decided to assign to you a personal bodyguard. He’s suppose to protect you but will he protect you because it’s his job, or because it’s what his heart tells him to do?

Pairings: AU!Dean x Reader

Warnings: swearing, angst

Word Count: 3083

One part left and an epilogue! 

Personal Bodyguard: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, EndEpilogue

(gifs not mine, credits to owners)

You were woken up by a violent slap across your face. You coughed out and breathed, looking up. “Princess is finally awake.” She muttered. You clenched your jaw. “Cain, call Amara.” The redhead said to the man. He nodded and went out from the room. “She’s so obsessed with you. Been wanting to get you.” She said. “I didn’t fucking do anything to her!” You spat.

Keep reading