cabinet with mirror

Tumbleweed, Her (M) #1 - [BAP] Mafia!Au

Originally posted by daenana

[A/N] This kind of writing falls under the ‘Noir’ category. It involves crime and is rated M for mature contents. One part, every week. OK? OK.

The Lieutenant: Bang Yongguk.

The smell of cigarettes from his superior is blocking his mind. He tried to shake his discomforts, a few times, but he had to settle for a walk for a minute. He never bothered to take his phone to the toilet but this time, he did. He picked the cubicle farthest from the entrance and placed the seat cover down. He slip his phone out of his back pocket and he sighed, before anything else. He sighed, tiredly. As if he’ll be expecting some unwanted texts. And like he predicted, he did.

“Please, answer my call.”
“I need you.”
“Call me.”
“I won’t be asking you for help. Not anymore.”
“This will be the last time.”

He locked the screen and hovered his eyes away from it, while tilting his head back. “You have seven missed calls, since Monday.” The last text arrived. He had been out of town, but isn’t very far from where he lives. This was the kind of text messages he refused to reply to. He cares about you too much, and for that same reason he had been avoiding you. So that you’ll grow out of it.

[Several months ago]

Keep reading

— slide

pairing: reader x park jimin
themes: smut / pwp 
warning! → graphic sexual content
word count: 1.5k
summary: you’re unknowingly cast in the starring role of jimin’s latest sexual fantasy; that he penitently indulges in during his routine late night shower.

( a/n: yes, the rumours are true, i literally wrote an entire piece of pure filth drabble at 2am that is nothing but jimin jacking off in the shower. )

Keep reading

For @whump-dump [waggles brows]

[Modern AU]

Lance curls in tighter around himself while eyeing the closed bathroom door nervously. He listens to the soft whir of the shower water and wills Shiro to hurry because he’s not sure how much longer he can go. His body is beginning to tremble despite the sudden heat clinging to his sweat-slick skin. The warmth feels as if it’s smothering him, and he clamps a shaking hand over his mouth as his stomach lurches. 

Keep reading

Uncertain Future: 1

Two Three Four Five Six

Well y’all wanted Taeyong because we thirsty af, so here I am to quench your thirst!! Buckle up and enjoy😃


Keep going.

Don’t look back.

Come on girl, faster.

Don’t look back!

Trees past you in a blur, paws almost stumbling over roots and large branches fallen onto the path.

“Y/N! get back here!”

“You’re father will hunt you down!”

“We’ve got guns, Y/N! stop running!”

“We don’t wanna hurt you!”

“Stop running!”

But despite their words, all you could think of were, LIES! All your life you’ve been dishonored and disrespected, and now you were running, running away from that life to begin a new one. 

How many nights have gone by? How long have I been here in the middle of nowhere, just hiding in the trees, trekking through the forest?

A new scent, different looking trees, a new territory.

Shit! Alarms screamed in your head. I’ve crossed a boundary.

There wasn’t any pack out there friendly towards rogues.

Come on girl, get up! Clothes on — wait…someone’s here…


You ran faster than ever before, the muffled gunshots all too familiar to your ears. This time you didn’t need convincing not to look back, because if you did, you’d di—



You remained in a state of confusion, lingering between conscious and unconsciousness. A sharp, burning pain engulfed your leg, your usual quick healing system already weakening.

“Fifteen minutes, just that short amount of time and they’re dead.”

Your stepfather, a hunter, his words rang through your head. 

Fifteen minutes? It feels like hours.

A sharp prick set everything on fire, and it stabbed through your leg, swallowing up the pain left from the silver bullet, but the burning began to expand around your body and a hoarse cry was ripped from your throat, the pain becoming unbearable. You tried to move, but some invisible force held you down, and you screamed, feeling your insides hit a boiling point. 

Somewhere, in between your groans of pain you heard rushed words being uttered around you. They sounded desperate, almost pleading, and a moment later, the pain slowly ebbed away, leaving you in a numb-like state.

Exhausted, you let sleep embrace your mind.

The first thing you remember was laying on the softest pillow, the blankets wrapped around you warm and snug. Slowly, your senses awakened, steadily rising you out of the Sandman’s grip. You smelled a familiar scent, including eggs, toast, and…was that bacon?  Distant voices called out warm fair-wells such as, “Have a good day!” and “Remember you’ve got evening patrol, Jaemin!” or “Bye pups, we’ll keep you updated, promise!”

Wait, pups? Your breath hitched, and your eyes shot open, suddenly recognizing the familiar scent. Immediately everything came rushing back like a horrible dream. You remembered stepping into unknown territory and the unfamiliar scent, which was now entirely too familiar because here you were, lying on who know’s what and surrounded by that scent from the night before. 

Feeling scared, you warily, almost reluctantly, sat up on what you found was a small and comfortable bed. The sheets fell from your shoulders, making you shiver from the cold hitting your skin. You looked down and froze, realizing you’d been stripped and changed into an oversized T-shirt. Frantically looking around, you spotted a pile of clothes sitting upon a chair near your bed, but instead of pulling them on, you stared, blinking a couple times, too confused to do anything.

The memory of pain and torture flit back to your mind, and remembering your bullet wound, you lifted the sheets to check your leg. It was fine, wrapped in a bandage, the bullet had been removed, but it was definitely sore.

You looked up again to analyze your surroundings. The room was small, dark, with just three walls, a chair, a bed, and a cabinet, including a mirror hanging on the wall. The doorway was a curtain, replacing where the fourth wall would be. Dazed and still quite out of it, you just sat there on the small bed, wondering how in the world did you get here?

Suddenly the curtain flipped open and you jumped, surprised.

“Oh jeosonghamnida,” a young woman spoke in a hushed apology. “I didn’t mean to scare you, we thought you were still asleep.”

She didn’t look much older than you, perhaps older by a year, and carried a tray smelling like food. Your mouth watered, realizing just how hungry you were. The woman maneuvered to the side of your bed and paused. “May I sit down?” She also had the most soothing voice you had ever heard.

You wordlessly nodded, wondering just who she was and why she was being so kind. And then a different scent hit you, and you glanced her way in surprise.

“Everything okay?” she asked, noticing the way you observed her suspiciously. 

An awkward silence fell between you two as you just stared her way, confused. Finally, you spoke quietly, “Isn’t this pack territory?”

She nodded as if nothing was wrong. “Of course.”

You shot her another strange look. “Than why’s your scent human?” you asked tentatively, scooting back just a few inches out of caution. 

“Because I am,” she grinned. “I’m Eunjung, mated to one of the wolves here.” 

“Oh,” was all you could muster up.

She smiled and held the tray of food out. “Here, we made you breakfast, I’m sure you’re hungry.”

Not caring if the food was poisoned or not (because you were starving), you took the food and muttered a quiet, “Kamsahamnida,” before gulping it down.

She chortled, happy you were regaining your energy. “Well I’ll let Taeil know you’re awake and recovering. He’ll be in soon.”

You nodded, humming a reply as she stepped out, leaving you and the last bits of breakfast.

A few minutes later a young man stepped in, donning jeans and a long sleeved shirt with a stethoscope hanging around his neck. “We’re glad you’re awake,” he said, shooting you a friendly smile.

“Um, we?” You asked, bemused.

He chuckled. “The pack. We brought you in a few nights ago.”

You stiffened. “How long was I out for?”

“Three days.”

You felt dread slip into your stomach. “I need to go,” you said suddenly, tone firm. “I need to get out —”

“Hold on,” the young man spoke, his voice uneasy. “At least let me check your vitals and then you’re free to leave, if you want…please, besides, you’re hurt.” He glanced at your legs still under the covers. “You were shot by a silver bullet, remember?” He gave you a pointed look.

Finding yourself in no position to argue, you sighed and waved a hand in surrender. “Okay, do whatever you need.”

He smiled and checked your heartbeat, pulse, hearing, and sight. Then he told you to stand and move your arms, legs, feet, and hands. You sat back on the edge of the bed, feeling a little better and relaxed.

“Well you seem perfectly fine besides your leg being a little sore, so I guess you’re free to go.” He said. But right as you reached for the pile of clothes, he added quickly, “At least decide to stay for one more night.”

You stopped, then fixed the doctor with a glare. “Look doc —”

“Taeil,” he corrected. “And I’m a healer.”

“Fine,” you bit out, annoyed. “Look Taeil, I’m really grateful for your hospitality, but I need to get out of this forest and town.”

He sighed. “You’ll have to discuss that with the alpha.”

You rolled your eyes, just wanting to leave. “Where are they now?”

Taeil shook his head. “Taeyong’s out leading the morning patrol, he’ll be back in a couple hours.”

“Okay then,“ you nodded, mentally noting down the name. Waiting a couple hours couldn’t hurt, right? 

Then remembering the tray of food on your bed, you handed it over to Taeil’s outstretched hands. “Um, tell the woman from before, Eunjung, the food was delicious,” you muttered with a small bow.

Taeil grinned. “I will. My mate loves when her cooking is complimented.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, then dropped down in embarrassment. “Oh, she did say she was mated.”

The healer smiled. “Did you two talk any?”

You shrugged. “Not really, but she was awfully kind.”

Taeil grinned but didn’t pry. “Well come down if you want to, we don’t bite, I promise.” He left you pondering his words, closing the curtain behind him.

The healer had successfully persuaded you into leaving the small enclosed room, and you pulled on the pile of clothes left on the chair. Dressed in a fitted T-shirt and long sweatpants, you glanced at your appearance in the mirror. Cringing at your overly slept appearance, you stepped out behind the curtain to find yourself in a larger bedroom.

Wondering if this was the healer’s quarters, you exited the room, only to step foot on cold wooden floors and eyed the railing before you. Standing on the second floor, you took a few minutes to find one of the three bathrooms that existed in the house so you could wash up and run your fingers through your hair to look somewhat presentable.

You slowly came down the staircase, taking your time analyzing the small framed photos on the wall. Each was an individual picture of a pack member, along with some family photos of their activities. Some looked older than others, yet still, you couldn’t help but wonder who they were and what they were like. You recognized Eunjung and the healer himself. Their pictures being one of the older ones, the color beginning to fade.

“Oh you’re awake,” another woman spoke and you turned to face her, realizing you had reached the bottom of the staircase. “Welcome to the pack house.”

You quickly bowed. “Thank you for taking me in.”

“Oh don’t thank me,” she shook her head, than gestured towards another room. “They’re in the kitchen.”

Giving another bow in thanks, you followed the smell of delicious food through the living room and stepped into the kitchen.

The kitchen was large enough to fit about four people. There was a stove, an oven, and a microwave, toaster, and a blender sitting on the counter. Cabinets lined the painted walls, and even though there were things atop those cabinets, everything looked clean and well kept.

There were three people sitting around a coffee table. You recognized Taeil and Eunjung, but the other young man was unfamiliar.

“Glad you could show,” the Eunjung chirped happily and stood up to fill a glass of water. Then she handed it towards you. “Here, I forgot to bring you water upstairs.”

Two more glasses of water later, you set the glass in the sink and turned to face your three saviors. “I wanted to thank you for taking me in, I would have died if you hadn’t, kamsahmnida,” you bowed.

“You’re most welcome,” the unfamiliar wolf replied with a grin, “Also FYI, formalities aren’t needed.” He stood up, his height looming over you by a good foot or two. “I’m Johnny, nice to see you’re awake and well.”

You shook his hand. “I’m Y/N,” you introduced yourself before asking, “Is this all of you?”

“Who took you in?“ Johnny confirmed. “Nope, there’s still one last person.”

“It’s the Alpha, right?“ you realized, and the other nodded. “He’ll be back soon, I hope.”

“Don’t worry,” Johnny reassured. “I’m sure he’ll want to speak with you too.”

“Oh, great,“ you smiled awkwardly, then remembered the woman you met at the end of the staircase. “Who’s the other girl? Was she here earlier?”

“Yeah, that’s Narae,“ Taeil spoke up for the first time in awhile. “She and her mate are upstairs.”

“And, while we wait for the morning patrol to return,“ Johnny added, "Want me to show you around?”

You shot him a funny look. “I’m not planning on staying too long,” you explained.

The older smirked. “Something tells me you’ll be here longer than you expect, but come along, I’m giving you a tour whether you like it or not.”

Ignoring his words, you followed suit.

After getting a full pack house tour, you weren’t sure what to do next, but after Yuta and Narae came down to watch TV, you decided to head back up. Only to stop and walk back to the living room once you heard your name on the news report.

You stood in the doorframe, listening to the news about your little run away.

“Why are you running?” Yuta inquired, having already been introduced to you by his pack mate.

But you didn’t say a word, proceeding to stare at the TV screen.

“Y/N,” Narae voiced up. “You can tell us, I promise, we won’t give way any of your whereabouts.”

You faced her with a hard stare. “Why should I trust you?” Honestly, you were expecting some bland response but instead, her answer surprised you.

“This entire pack is made up of mostly rogues and orphans. We’ll understand you.” Her tone had softened, hoping you’d comply.

Earlier today, you learned it had been a week since you left home, well, if you could call it that. You found yourself caught in a battle of emotions before you caved, tired of holding in your secret from everyone you’ve met, besides, they all seemed pretty harmless. “I’m escaping from my stepfather.”


“He’s a werewolf hunter.”

Yuta nodded, eyebrows furrowed. “Well that explains everything,” he said, facing you with concern. “You’re not the only one running from their family.”

You scoffed, leaning against the wall. “Should I feel reassured?”

“That’s up to you. We —”

Voices could be heard outside, then footsteps reached your ears a few moments before the main door opened, revealing the morning patrol.

The first one to enter had an oval shaped face and a beautiful smile. His dark hair was parted at the side, revealing his eyes. “Hey you’re awake!” He bounced towards you and held out his hand. “I’m Chittaphon, but everyone calls me Ten.”

You shook his hand, a little surprised by his enthusiasm. “I’m Y/N.”

“Joesonghamnida,” a new voice apologized. “He’s always energetic.” The speaker was slightly taller and had a pale complexion. But his face was kind and open, smiling immediately once he saw you. “I’m Jaehyun.”

The last one to step inside pulled the door closed. A commanding aura surrounded him, but it wasn’t anywhere near overbearing, just firm. He calmly surveyed the room, sharp eyes observing the scene before meeting your gaze.

And just…like…that…everything felt right.

From Taeil begging you to stay one night, to Johnny’s words and everyone being incredibly kind and patient, it all clicked.

You couldn’t tear your gaze away, and you felt the sudden need to wrap yourself in his embrace.

But then you remembered why you were here in the first place.

Pushing off the wall, you calmly, wordlessly, brushed past the alpha, still holding his gaze before you reluctantly turned away to push the door back open and step outside, feeling your bare feet meet concrete, and then grass. Stepping onto the front lawn and spotting a picnic table, you sat on the bench, back resting against the wooden table.

With a wide open space, the forest right in front of you and fresh air, now was a good time to clear your thoughts and your eyes closed, taking in a much needed breath.

Minutes later, you felt his presence beside you. Opening your eyes, you continued staring out into the forest, wondering if your stepfather or his rally of hunters were still out there, searching for you, or if they’ve given up already.

“Yuta informed me of your predicament.”

Afraid to look his way again, you just nodded, crossing your ankles. “Do you want me to stay?” It was a stupid question, you knew that, but all your plans had been skewed and you weren’t too happy about it.

You could feel his heavy gaze fall upon you, but you didn’t look back. “It would be nice,” he murmured after a slight pause. 

Sensing his guilt, you wanted to comfort him, but right now all your senses seemed to be taking in too much for your comfort level. “I need some time,” you stated and stood up, heading back towards the door. Pausing by his side, you whispered. “I’ll let you know what my decision is tonight, Taeyong.” And you walked back inside the house, ignoring the other wolves as you walked out of view.


*Ducks from objects being thrown* Mianhae mianhae!!! I know I know the cliffhanger is killing you but please bear with me I’m in pain too!

anonymous asked:

I'm gonna ask it...RFA+Saeran finding out GASP that MC hadn't eaten all day. It's for no particular reason. She was just alone all day and got herself distracted so she forgot (lol I'm guilty of this sometimes). Haha. Thanks! I love your imagines so far:)

so basically, if RFA+Saeran were real people in my life? lollll :’) 


  • Chef Yoosung is sad and disappointed
  • And he is absolutely determined to give you a love for food
  • He starts looking through tons of online recipes even after you reassure him it was an accident
  • “Yoosung I just forgot to eat I’m fine”
  • “No! I’ll find something that you’ll love so much that you’ll look forward to eating!!”
  • He puts on his kimchi-making apron and makes you watch him cook
  • He’s a good teacher though, and teaches you how to put things in your ramen for a fast but interesting meal
  • “You really like my mom’s panchan, right? I’ll ask her how to make it so I can make it for you”
  • What a sweet boy


  • She’s worried about your health but she really isn’t one to talk 
  • “I thought you took your lunch break, MC”
  • “Oh. I did but I got kinda distracted.”
  • “MC…”
  • i’m not mad. i’m just disappointed.
  • She starts making it a point to eat her meals with you, whether that be at home or at the cafe or just takeout
  • seriously, mc how did you manage this. you co-own a CAFE for god’s sake


  • Jumin comes home late, as he is oft to do
  • Idle talk is usually part of your evening, especially on nights like this when dinner is long past
  • He talks about his day, and he asks you:
  • “What did you have for dinner?”
  • You’re about to answer, but after thinking about it you realize that you completely skipped dinner
  • and lunch… and breakfast too…
  • He wastes no time in calling up the chef, waking him up and promising to recompense whatever amount was necessary
  • He also asks Assistant Kang to book a nutritionist for you, despite your protests


  • He is only mildly concerned, as he is prone to skipping meals himself
  • Although his are more due to business/necessity
  • And he hates seeing you do it since you mean much more to him than he does to himself
  • He offers you Honey Buddha Chips and Dr. Pepper, since it’s the only food he really has
  • But the next day, the fridge is stuffed with sandwiches that he made himself
  • Any kind of sandwich you could possibly imagine
  • You’re grateful for the gesture but you bring him some sandwiches to make sure he eats too ~~


  • It’s late evening when you realize you’re hungry
  • Zen is shocked and worried when you both realize you haven’t eaten anything
  • “Oh no MC I’ve been a bad influence on you”
  • He panics further when he finds that his fridge only has beer and water
  • He brings back some bboongobbang from the truck outside and won’t stop worrying over you
  • “Is everything okay? Are you having… body issues?”
  • You laugh, which doesn’t ease his concern
  • “MC, you know you look perfect just the way you are, right?”
  • “Zen, I’m fine. I just forget to eat sometimes if I’m all alone here.”
  • He looks like his heart breaks even more, if possible
  • “You’re lonely here??”
  • He calls his director and calls in sick for the next day
  • And he goes grocery shopping and takes you on the best dinner date you’ve ever had


  • He’s definitely concerned when he realizes you haven’t eaten anything all day
  • But we all know this tsundere motherfucker shows love in enigmatic ways
  • He starts making little bento-style meals for you
  • And leaves post-its on cabinets or on the bathroom mirror reminding you to eat
  • He knows that you’re just forgetful
  • But he also gets so frustrated 
  • “It’s the easiest thing! Just… sustain yourself!!”
  • … He shouts to his pillow, and never ever to your face
Those who are Broken | Chapter Eight

Everyone has a soulmate. Except the Broken.

↬ Word count: 3195

I spent most of the weekend writing for ten minutes before going back to bed with a heating pad and accepting death. Ya girl got this shit in check

Chapter list

Originally posted by gothdollysedits

You eventually found your way back to your apartment. After leaving Taehyung, you were so pissed at how stupid he was, that you went for a walk around the academy. There was no point in lying when you know you were lost hours ago and had no idea where to go to find something that looked familiar. You also hated yourself for being that mad that you ended up lost. You haven’t been that mad since you were first kicked out of the orphanage—briefly kicked out if you were going to be technical.

After punching in the code, you entered your apartment just as Jimin came in through your window. As he looked up, the two of you met gazes in complete, awkward silence.

You forgot to lock your fucking window.

You looked away, not wanting to feel your heart race and those damn butterflies flutter in your stomach. Looking down towards his chest region, something red caught your attention. Looking down towards his hand, you noticed blood trickling. You were at his side within seconds, taking his bloody hand in yours.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt? We should clean it up,” you said in a rush, the tips of your fingers trying to lightly wipe away the blood so that you could see how deep the wound on his knuckles were. You felt him flinch. You apologized, looking up at him. He was staring down at you in slight surprise. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it when nothing came out. You took a step back, letting go of his hand. “We should clean that up. I have a first aid kit in the bathroom,” you informed, turning around and walking towards your bathroom without even giving a glance in his direction.

What is wrong with you? What the hell happened back there?

When did you become concerned for Jimin? That’s the question that should be asked.

But you knew. You knew exactly why you were like this. And you were beginning to hate yourself for it.

“Keep your hand under the water,” you told him, going for the first aid kit in the mirror cabinet. You heard him turn on the sink water. Turning back towards him, you placed the kit on the counter, opening the lid and began to pull out the necessities. Grabbing the towel from the corner of the counter, you carefully took his hand from under the water and began to lightly pat his cut dry. Tossing the towel to the ground, you began to work on cleaning and bandaging his hand.

You were quiet as you tried your best not to hurt him, but you knew the ointment would sting. You apologized to him several times when he lightly flinched, but he remained quiet. When you finished taking care of his hand, you looked up at the small cut on his lip. You cupped his cheeks, careful not to touch him with your finger covered in ointment, and brought him to eye level. With your finger, you lightly dabbed the ointment on his cut before placing a Band-Aid over it.

You finally went from his lips to meet his eyes. It was then that you realized how close the two of you were. You wanted to jump back, but played it off by turning your attention to the first aid kit. You began to pack up. “You didn’t come here to have your cuts cleaned,” you began, placing the items back in the box, “so why are you here?”

“Is he okay?” he asked, somewhat avoiding your question.

“Who? Taehyung?” you asked, and when he didn’t reply, it confirmed your answer. “He’s being an idiot—just like you.” You closed the lid to the first aid kit and placed it back to its original place. “Whatever the hell the two of you are fighting over, get over it and apologize.” Turning to face him, you were met with a blank stare. Growing frustrated by his lack of expression, you rolled up your sleeves and ran a hand through your hair. “I don’t know how Taehyung is because I yelled at him, too.” You walked past him. “So, if you want to know how he’s doing, go ask Jungkook, or ask him yourself.”

You sometimes wondered if he was as stubborn as Taehyung. He never apologizes first, and he would never admit to being in the wrong. Either he was right, or you’d probably never hear from him again. With you, however, Taehyung never disappeared off the face of the earth when the two of you fought. He would disappear for a couple of hours and come back to “apologize.” The funny thing is, Taehyung never actually apologizes. He either bought you something cute to say how sorry he was, or “I’m sorry, I was wrong” sex. Usually the latter.

You made your way towards the front door, telling him, “Taehyung should either be somewhere wandering around, or at his place. You can go look for him there.” Grabbing the handle, you were about to turn it when Jimin grabbed your hand. A small yelp escaped past your lips as he spun you around to face him. You stared up at him, his eyes on you before traveling down to his hand holding yours. You followed his gaze until your eyes landed on his name inked on your inner wrist. You immediately covered it with your hand.

“My name is on your wrist,” he said in a low voice. Using his other hand, he lightly grabbed a hold of your hand covering your wrist. You weakly gave in, letting him move your hand back to your side. “Why?”

You let out a soft scoff. “You make it sound like I know. I’m guessing because of all the encounters we had, and all the persistence coming from you,” you told him, looking off to the side. “I’m more broken than before.” He brushed his fingers along your wrist—as if he was trying to wipe it away. “I’ve already tried—” A sudden knock interrupted you causing you to jump a bit. You turned your head towards the door behind you, but Jimin carefully cupped your cheek, turning your attention back towards him. He shook his head.

The knock came again. “Cupcake, open up. I need to talk to Jimin,” Taehyung said from the other side of the door.

Jimin? How does Taehyung know Jimin is at your place?

“How did you know I was here?” Jimin asked, eyes still on you.

The butterflies in your stomach were multiplying.

“You came in through her window like a fucking creep. If you’re going to be sneaking into people’s apartments, at least do it when no one is looking,” Taehyung replied, voice low and exhausted. “Can you open the door?”

Jimin took several steps back, allowing you to open the door for the brunette waiting outside. You turned around, unlocking the door, and opened it. Taehyung leaned a hand against the doorframe, several cuts on his cheek and corner of his lip. His clothes were dirty, and his hair disheveled.

“Taehyung, what the hell happened to you?” you asked, opening the door more for him to enter.

Pushing himself off the doorframe, his familiar box-like grin appeared on his face. “I ran into Seohyun and her boy toy—”

Before he could finish his statement, a figure appeared out of nowhere, tackling Taehyung to the ground. Jimin was out in the hall in an instant, staring down the hall where you could hear grunts and fists meeting body parts. Jimin opened his mouth to say something, but another figure appeared from behind him, attacking him and both falling to the ground.

“Jimin!” As you took one step towards the hallway to stop the fight that was happening, you felt something hard hit your cheek.

Your cheek stung as you turned your head to see a familiar face smirking at you. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now,” Seohyun said, bringing her hand back and throwing a punch in your direction. You threw yourself backwards, barely missing her fist. You stumbled a bit, but quickly regained your balance as you watched Seohyun enter your apartment and run straight for you. When you moved to the side, watching her stumble past you, she yelled, “Why the hell are you ruining my life!” She turned back around to throw another punch in your direction, but she missed again. “First you leave a cut on my face—ruining my party.” She threw another punch, missing you again. “Now you’re trying to steal Jimin away from me!”

Steal him away? You don’t even talk to Jimin, and she’s accusing you of stealing him from her? She can have Jimin all she wants—

Seohyun took advantage of the confused look on your face, and brought her fist to your cheek. You stumbled back. “Come on, you stupid bitch. I thought you were the tough one?” she mocked, making her way towards you.

As quickly as you could, you lunged for her, throwing both of you to the ground. You got on top of her, but Seohyun was faster, hitting you across the face. She hit you again, but you caught her hand before she could throw her third punch. You threw in two good hits before you were lifted off her and tossed to the side. You glared up at as an unfamiliar man lift Seohyun to her feet, sleep evident on his face, but he was beyond pissed. Seohyun was yelling, holding her bleeding nose, as she was dragged out of your apartment. You quickly followed, watching as Seohyun continued to scream and curse.

“Would you shut the fuck up?” the man dragging her yelled, lifting her off the ground as she continued to struggle. It was then you realized it was the same voice who hit your neighbor for having loud sex in the middle of the night. “Get the rest of these fuckers out of here,” he said, never looking back as he continued down the hall with a screaming Seohyun.

You turned towards the group of guys. Jimin and Taehyung, along with two other guys were being escorted out the building. “Wait,” you called running up to the group. You pushed past the guys until you reached Taehyung and Jimin. Grabbing their hands, you told them, “They’re with me.” Staring up at one of the guys, who didn’t look like he got the shit beat out of him, you watched him stare at you for a second before nodding, pushing the other two down the hall. When the three of you were alone in the hallway, you let out a sigh. “Tae, what the hell was that?” You turned to look up at the brunette next to you.

He looked down at you, a big smile plastered on his face. “Sorry about that, Cupcake. I didn’t think they’d actually follow me, or bring a friend for that matter.”

You shook your head, letting out a sigh. “Let’s get inside and clean your cuts.” You turned towards Jimin, staring down at his bandaged hand in yours. Blood seeped through the bandage. “We’ll have to rebandage this.” You dragged the two into your apartment, letting their hands go once they were inside.

You walked back into the bathroom to grab the first aid kit from the cabinet. Walking out of the bathroom, you made your way towards the couch where Taehyung and Jimin sat. Taehyung had his eyes close as he rested his head on the backrest. Jimin sat on the couch in silence, staring down at his hands. You placed yourself between them, getting on your knees as you began to work on Taehyung. He let out a hum as you rubbed the ointment on his cuts.

“Tae…” Jimin trailed off.

“Just,” Taehyung began, bringing his hand closer to your bare leg, rubbing circles on your skin with his thumb, “find someone better than her.”

“Sorry, Tae,” Jimin quietly said, his voice barely loud enough for you to hear.

“Me too. Are we cool?” Taehyung asked, his circles slowing down.

“Of course.”

Taehyung let out a small smile. “That’s good…” Taehyung’s breathing slowed.

You finished what you could as you go off the couch. “Can you help me?” you asked, gesturing towards the sleeping brunette. Jimin grabbed Taehyung’s legs as you held his head. Together, the two of you shifted him into a lying position on the couch. You went to the small dresser up against the wall and grabbed a small, white blanket. You draped it over Taehyung’s sleeping form before grabbing the first aid kit and made your way towards the table. You sat down, placing the kit on the table and grabbed the chair, pulling it in front of you. You looked towards Jimin, patting the chair expectantly. “You’re next.”

You watched as Jimin made his way over to you, sitting himself on the chair in front of you. You got to work on his old cuts, and now new ones. It was silent between the two of you as you tried to focus on cleaning his cuts, but you could feel his eyes on you.

If the two of you continued to sit in this silence, you’d probably explode. From whatever was causing you to squirm under his gaze.

“I’m sorry she did whatever she did,” you told him, wrapping his hand in a new bandage.

“She cheated.”

“Ah.” You gave a curt nod. You could tell him how much of a bitch she is, and how he deserves better. Well, everyone deserves better if they were to date her. Seohyun was trash, but you figured Jimin already knew that. Plus, she is his soulmate, so you can’t talk bad about her. You finally finished cleaning his cuts. “Thankfully both you and Taehyung know how to fight, so your cuts aren’t anything serious.” You began to pack, but stopped when Jimin’s hand took a hold of yours. You turned towards him, hoping the blush appearing on your cheeks weren’t that visible. “What?”

“You have cuts, too,” he said, grabbing the kit from your hands and began to pull out the ointment and Band-Aid. You watched as he lightly dabbed his finger in the ointment before carefully smearing it on the cut on your cheek. You lightly winced. It was cold and stung a bit. “Why did you date Taehyung?”

Sooner or later, you knew this question would come. You were honestly hoping it would be later, but fate just said fuck you and presented the question you didn’t want to answer. But with Jimin cleaning your cut carefully, and your heart racing, you found yourself answering him, “I didn’t believe the rumors of Broken not being able to feel love.” You kept your attention on the Band-Aid on his cheek. “I met Taehyung by accident when we were both trying to steal the same thing. He was more of a “first come, first serve” kind of person and sort of stole what I was aiming for.” You chuckled. “Bastard gave it to me for our anniversary.”

“So, you dated him out of curiosity,” Jimin said, placing a Band-Aid on your left cheek.

“I wanted to believe that we could feel, but after two years of dating, I guess the rumors were true.” You closed your eyes as he got to work on the cut on your cheekbone.

“Do you believe any rumors Broken spread?” Jimin asked, rubbing a small circle on your cheekbone.

“You mean the doppelganger one? That’s the most recent rumor. That’s a lie. It’s just giving us hope for something that can never happen.” There was a rumor going around saying that if a Broken’s doppelganger did something worse than what a Broken had did, then that doppelganger is basically sentenced to death. The Broken dies, but is reincarnated as their doppelganger. Memories and all are there. A rumor that is giving them nothing but false hope.

Same thing with some other dimension giving people one hundred days to find their soulmate before they die. Everyone has a soulmate. Again, lies.

“You’re finished,” he said, placing all the items back in the box before sliding it over to you.

“Thank you,” you said, picking up the box. You got to your feet, but immediately sat back down. “Why are you suddenly different?” you couldn’t help but ask, catching him off guard by your question. “You’ve hated me since we first met.”

Jimin leaned back in his chair, a sigh escaping past his lips. “I never hated you.”

“That’s a lie.”

“I was protecting Taehyung.” Jimin’s eyes wandered to the couch where the brunette was fast asleep. “He’s my best friend.”

You stared at Jimin. You could see it in his eyes how much Taehyung meant to him. Taehyung never mentioned any of the guys to you, but just the look on Jimin’s face said everything. They’ve been through a lot of hard times, great moments, and so much more. Jimin would do anything for Taehyung, and so would you.

“I guess you can say he’s my best friend, too,” you told him, watching his gaze land back on you. “More like he’s all I have. He’s keeping me sane in this fucked up world.” You shrugged, getting up from your seat. “I’d recommend you climb through the window to go back to your place. Those guys might be outside the complex waiting for you.” You pushed your chair back to its original place. “I’m sorry your soulmate is a bitch.” You froze, mentally hitting yourself for being so blunt. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“She’s not my soulmate,” he said, getting up from his seat and pushing the chair in. You frowned, looking up at him. Seeing your confusion as to why he would date someone like her, he continued, “She was, but not anymore.”

“She was…”

“I woke up this morning with a new name on my wrist.”

Jimin was the last rare case in the group. It wasn’t Namjoon or the other two. It was Jimin.

“Ah. So, how does that work?” you asked.

“It’s usually based off of my feelings for someone,” he said in a nonchalant manner.

“You had feelings for—” you stopped yourself, holding up your hands. “I’m sorry. You must have liked her for a reason.”

You were just fucking things up badly. Maybe keeping your mouth shut is the best option.

“Are you sure my name is on your wrist?” Jimin asked, eyes on his name inked into your wrist.

“I’ve spent hours trying to wipe it off thinking it was a pen or marker, but apparently, it’s real,” you told him staring down at your wrist. “But don’t worry, your soulmate doesn’t need to know about this.” Incoherent words left Jimin’s mouth, causing you to look up at him in confusion. “What?”

Letting out a sigh, he pushed his sleeve up, revealing his inked wrist. “Your name was found on my wrist this morning.”

Looking down at his hand, you found your name inked across his wrist in perfect cursive.


“Heirs: Family Bonding”  (Chapter 3)  - [A Jeremy Irons/Tom Hiddleston/Sebastian Stan  story].

Written by: A.Wölf.

Previous chapter(s): 1: “Heirs: The Scent of Revenge”.  // 2: “Tiptoed love”.

Notes: NSFW  //  Let this be another one of those repetitive reminders. No disrespect to any of these actors, they are just portraying these crazy characters of mine.


The morning sun filtered through the curtains, awakening Tom.

The balcony door had stayed ajar the whole night and the ocean breeze had grazed his wife’s naked back. Tom stared at her and it was impossible for him not to let a warm smile spread across his face, invaded by an optimistic feeling for the first time in months. He felt strong and better than ever, having finally slept by her side after making up and making love. He got up carefully for her slumber to remain undisturbed and walked into the bathroom.

He looked at himself in the mirror, and his beard reminded him of the pain he had endured in the last weeks, and his self-destructive behavior. He opened the mirrored cabinet and grabbed his razor; it was time to shave.

“Good morning”, said Jeremy at the sound of Sebastian joining him in the dining room.

Jeremy didn’t even glance up from the newspaper he held in front of him, and his son could only see the cigarette smoke floating above it. His father, as usual, was sitting at the head of the table, so he sat to his left. The maid walked in to put a plate in front of Jeremy; eggs, sausage, and two pancakes. This at last, made the businessman put down the paper and put out the cigarette to take a sip of his black coffee.

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A Guy That I’d Kinda Be Into

For the always phenomenal @403secret:)

When Jeremy texts that he’s going to meet up with Christine to run lines for a new play, Michael replies with “go get her, ya killer ;) ;)” despite the frown painted on his lips.

While Jeremy and Christine are still new to the relationship, Michael knows how much Jeremy adores the girl, so he’s willing to root for the two, even if it leaves his heart crumbling into pieces.

Unsurprisingly, Jeremy doesn’t reply. Michael figures the latter is desperately trying to find something to wear to impress Christine while at their “play practice,” meaning their date.

Michael doesn’t know why Jeremy rarely talks about his relationship with Christine, but he figures that it is for the best. He isn’t sure if he can handle listening to Jeremy gush about someone that isn’t him.

Okay, so maybe Michael’s having a hard time dealing with Jeremy liking someone, being with someone. Since they first met, Michael knew Jeremy was the one, but he doesn’t want to hold Jeremy back, especially if the latter genuinely likes Christine.

It’s difficult, but Michael will deal; he always has video games to distract him after all. But, to his surprise, the video game he’s currently playing isn’t helping him in the slightest. His mind is focused on everything else, and after two hours, he powers down his play station with a sigh. It’s only then that his mind catches onto the splitting headache blooming across his forehead.

Oh. Michael has been feeling kind of off since he had woken up that morning, but he had pegged it on lack of sleep. Perhaps he’s wrong.

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Swedish household words

Thought I’d make a vocab list, checked for what I could do, decided on household items :) In ( ) is definite form singular. Here we go.

(The) Room-Rum(met)

(The) Kitchen-Kök(et)
(The) Living room-Vardagsrum(met)
(The) Hallway-Hall(en)
(The) Bedroom-Sovrum(met)
(The) Study-Arbetsrum(met)
(The) Bathroom-Badrum(met)
(The) Toilet-Toalett(en)/Toa(n)

(The) Furniture-Möbler(Möbeln)

(The) Table-Bord(et)
(The) Desk-Skrivbord(et)
(The) Couch/Sofa-Soffa(n)
(The) Rug-Matta(n)
(The) Lamp-Lampa(n)
(The) Cabinet-Skåp(et)
(The) Mirror-Spegel(n)
(The) Vacuum-Dammsugare(n)
(The) Bed-Säng(en)
(The) Shower-Dusch(en)

(The) House-Hus(et)

(The) Roof-Tak(et)
(The) Wall-Vägg(en)
(The) Floor-Golv(et)

(The) Kitchen items-Köksartiklar(na) (<-plural. Sing. is köksartikel(n))

(The) Microwave-Mikro(n)/Mikrovågsugn(en)
(The) Fridge-Kylskåp(et)
(The) Freezer-Frys(en)
(The) Dishwasher-Diskmaskin(en)
(The) Stove-Spis(en)
(The) Frying pan-Stekpanna(n)
(The) Saucepan/Skillet-Kastrull(en)
(The) Plate-Tallrik(en)
(The) Fork-Gaffel(n)
(The) Knife-Kniv(en)
(The) Spoon-Sked(en)
(The) Bowl-Skål(en)
(The) Glass-Glas(et)
(The) Jar-Burk(en)
(The) Bottle-Flaska(n)
(The) Cutting board-Skärbräda(n)

That’ll do for now :) let me know if you have any questions or suggestions etc.

Surely Straight

Request fill for someone who wanted a boy turning into a pregnant girl. Enjoy!

Your name was Elias and you were definitely the most effeminate boys in your school. Not that you did it on purpose, no… That’s just who you were. You didn’t do a thing at all to appear more or less girly, you just supposed that maybe it was in your features. You had a slim torso, “boy” hips, and a pleasantly smiling resting face. Maybe society just thinks girls are the only people who smile. Your mannerisms seemed girlish, too. You weren’t like the other boys who roared when they laughed, made lifting look easy, or generally gruff overall. You had a polite polish to your soul.

That never bothered you very much. You still had your friends, and they never poked fun. As long as you had them, especially your best friend, Jordan, around, you could take the teasing from the “jockstraps”, as you called them. So you thought…

Jordan was throwing a party to carry out the events of homecoming, so where else would you be but there? It was fun and all; you had a great time playing truth or dare and other typical party games. Nothing of it held any significance to you until everyone had left. It was you and Jordan.

“Hey, thanks for sticking around to clean up, Eli.”

“No problem,” you responded, putting a hand on your hip, “I’m spending the night aren’t I?”

Jordan chuckled, and probably blushed too, but you ignored that. “So that’s a requirement now, huh? Help me clean up house before you can crash without paying rent? I mean, I’m not complaining.” You shook your head at his jests while putting a couple of empty two-liters in the recycling.

Before long, you and he were finally able to kick your feet up in a reclining love seat in his spacious basement. The bond between you was strong enough that words didn’t have to be exchanged as you sat watching Elle Woods struggle through Harvard. You didn’t know it, but Jordan was reading the situation differently.  You pretended to ignore the strong arm that wrapped itself around your shoulder.

Jordan coughed as the credits rolled, “This is probably really bad, y’know?” You gave him a confused look. “I mean, we just watched Legally Blonde, and I’m about to confess how madly in love I am with you.”

Your brows furrowed. “You’re joking, right?”

Your friend’s face reddened, “Well, I just realized my bisexuality, and you’re already gay, and very cute as well.” He took a breath, “I’m sorry, this isn’t romantic at all, is it…”

You hardly heard a word that left his mouth. “You’re already gay…” It stung your ears and pierced your heart. Suddenly, you pushed away the arm that held you close. “You’re no different!”


“You’re just like them! You see a short, skinny… twink! All of you do!” You snapped at him as you sprang up from the couch.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-” Jordan tried to explain, but you turned your back and headed for the door. You tried blocking out his voice by stamping on each stair as you made your way to the front door, jingling your keys purposely as you tore them from the hook, and slamming the front door as hard as you could. But you still heard his comments in the confines of your mind. “You’re already gay…”

Tears had been stinging your pores the entire drive home. You couldn’t believe it! Your best friend had been projecting a happy little gay boy onto you this entire time! “I’m straight, dammit!” You cursed under your breath as you brought a warm washcloth to your face.

You laid the sopping cloth down and stared hard into the mirror. “I’m straight.” You made eye contact with your blotchy faced, puffy eyed reflection. Taking deep breaths in and out, you repeated your mantra. “I’m straight. I’m straight. I’m straight.” Good thing your parents were away for business, or else you would have no alibi to explain this self affirmation at 2 AM.

Finally feeling bored of your little game, you decided to go to bed. Or at least sleep, because you didn’t quite make it to your room at all, rather settling for sinking to your knees at the bathroom vanity.

Sleep was unsuccessful. It felt deep, but when you woke, the bright glare of your phone let you knew that only an hour passed. “Dammit…” you sighed and got into a comfier position sitting on your butt on the magenta rug near the tub with your arms wrapped around your bent knees, resting your head on the lip. You had never felt more drained. Nothing seemed more interesting than the ceiling at the moment.

How long had you been there? Long enough for your butt to start going numb, probably. And it was, and you dismissed it until that warm, maybe a little bit itchy feeling spread to your stomach. Then your legs, arms, hands, feet, face… everything inbetween. “What in the..?” You took off your shirt to inspect for any possible rash, but you found none. Instead, it looked like the blonde hairs on your chest seemed to grow lighter and fade away. Was it a trick of the light? You weren’t sure until you caressed the nearly bare skin of your torso. Skin so soft, it almost distracted you until a dull ache was felt all over your body, tearing you out of your grogginess. Your body was changing and you didn’t know why.

You stood on your feet and rushed to the mirror. Any hints of facial hair was gone, and your boyish frame was smoothing out. Any bony knuckles or joints rounded out, and your figure began to take an hourglass shape. You also observed your cheekbones lifting, your nose thinning, eyebrows becoming thinner, and your eyes becoming bigger. You were horrified, of course, but this transformation, however you may wanted to deny it, was exciting you. The warm feeling that tickled your core was something you never wanted to stop.

Your structures settled, but the feeling didn’t leave, and you knew this wasn’t finished. Fat began to redistribute itself, even if you didn’t have much to begin with. You watched your thighs curve out with fascination. Your butt began to take a more noticeable shape, and you could definitely tell because your fingers were starting to spread as you had wanted to feel this blossoming ass. Your ass. You didn’t move them until you noticed the heat starting to pool at your breasts, turning toned pecs into cute, tender titties. You laughed as you played with them, losing all of your pride and giving into whatever joy this might be.

You began to feel excitement as the sensation traveled south, and you took your pants off with glee. Your erect penis was already shrinking, so you hastily placed your thin, feminine hands around it. Masturbation had never felt so good, and you could hardly contain your moans. It didn’t last as long as you would have liked, but you became aware of new possibilities. Unclasping your hand, you stroked your fingers down your new sex, finding pleasure at your clit. You rubbed it feverishly, struggling to stay standing. You collapsed on your knees, uncaring of the future bruise, and slid two fingers inside your wet vagina. It felt awkward at first, but shifting your mind to lewd thoughts and ignoring the odd angle your wrist was at made the pumping motions even more exciting than any handjob you had ever given yourself. The sensation was nothing you had ever experienced, the euphoria wiping away any last thought of what happened last night. You kept going at it until finally you felt release.

Standing up and feeling better than ever, you washed your hands and left the bathroom to find a cute, frilly dress you had formerly worn to pleasure yourself in. The idea was good, of course, but you figured you may as well just look the part. Afterall, you just had the best experience yet.

You were fishing for a hair tie to put your now long blonde hair into a pony when your stomach began to feel tight. You glanced in the mirror, wondering what could happen now. This new feeling wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t the fantastic one you felt before. Nothing looked different, so you shrugged it off and returned to your search. Finally finding it in the medicine cabinet, you pushed the mirror panel shut and saw a new pudge to your tummy that wasn’t there before. You placed the hair tie down and turned to the side, sliding a hand down your torso. You might have dismissed it if your boobs hadn’t gotten noticeably bigger as well.

“No…” you whispered as the pressure in your womb began to roar, and your belly consequently swelled. You tried pushing the weight gain back in, but felt a firm resistance. Your face flushed as your breasts tried to compete, filling with milk to feed the baby when it comes. You could do nothing as your belly pushed outward, stretching the fabric of your dress thin. You figured you may have hit the five month benchmark, or at least you looked to be a woman 20 weeks pregnant. “Hard to hide…” you mumbled as you gave your swollen belly a much needed rub.

You jumped as you heard the doorknob turn, and jumped higher as you saw Jordan standing in the doorway. “Ellie, are you alright?” He looked frightened as you held your stomach protectively and away from him.

Your glare softened as a wave of affection washed over you. “Yeah, I’m… I’m fine…” You still had a hand on your belly, but it now instead was simply resting on the taut surface as you turned to face your boyfriend. “I’m ok.” Boyfriend?

“I’m glad.” He smiled handsomely and placed his hand on top of your own. “Now, you need to kick your feet up!” He laughed as he picked you up bridal style and carried you out of the bathroom, and into his basement. “You struggle enough with those jocks teasing you at school, especially with this unplanned arrangement,” he patted your tummy as he sat you on the same loveseat you could have sworn you left a few hours ago. “But let me know if there’s anything I can do for you, Ellie.”

You laughed, “Haven’t you done enough already?” He held you close, and you liked it. You liked him. You loved him. And then it hit you: you’re straight.

Heck, I wrote something. Maybe I’ll write more. You can call me Motown :))))

This Broken You

Admin Author: @wrenwritesometimes (sorry, it’s my writing blog)

A/N: @little-princess-wiccan asked: “Hi there I was wondering if you could make an imagine about Sam walking in on you trying to kill yourself and or self harming because of your abusive boyfriend but Sam loves you and you love him too. I know this seems weird but it helps me get through hard times. Can you make it very detailed?”

Dude, it’s not weird. x) If that’s what you’re afraid is weird, don’t be afraid to ask “weirder” ones! It makes writing interesting, to have a complicated plot or idea. It’s like a puzzle we gotta solve - means more brainwork. And don’t worry about detail, I’m gr8 at that. xD

Quick side note, beginning HEAVILY influenced by the beginning of “A Car, A Torch, A Death” by twenty one pilots whilst writing. Sorry? Nupe.
The ending was written to “Big Picture” by London Grammar, which is a very beautiful song. Kinda fits to.

Thanks too @imnoaingeal for reading through this and helping me!

Warnings: Mentions and kinda graphic explanation of self harm?? Woopsh??, mentions of (and actual un-intended not-so-“mentioned”-such-as-maybe-actual, woopsh) abuse, cursing, angst, and let’s add some floof… “a song’s never just sad”. Ooh, let’s have some confrontation too… violence.
Am I making it obvious that I’m outlining what potentially will be in this story through the warnings? Am I sorry? Nupe. Am I talking to myself in my own “author’s notes”?… Let’s move on.

Pairing: Sam x Reader

I hope your hard times become soft, my friend, and here we go:

The air felt thin when you started the car, as you seethed in your own special way…
Feeling angry and heartbroken at a situation you could easily end and walk away from.

But could you? Really?
It had been years… he knew everything about you… maybe that was the bad thing… every detail about you felt like blackmail when on his tongue.

There was always the lingering fear that he’d go to the authorities with your background as a hunter.
… at least that’s what he said once, when you said you’d leave him.

Suddenly, your heart seized, then sped up as your body forced an unpleasantly sharp inhale as you sobbed.
You couldn’t really breathe right…
You needed to pull over.

You didn’t realize where the destination you were aiming for was until you had cried for a good ten minutes.

You were silent, nothing but your car’s engine and the sparse passing cars rumbling down the road making a sound.

You stared at the road sign announcing the road you usually took to get to the one place you felt at home - really at home.

You had been on your way to the bunker.

You were hesitant, your shoulders hunched as you hung to the steering wheel desperately.

Sniffling, you shifted out of park and drove again.


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contrivedcoincidences6  asked:

Dialogue prompts 2!

2. I thought we agreed to never use butter for that reason again.(I doubt this is what you had in mind, but I hope you like it anyway.)

  You have good days and bad days with him.  On the good days you can almost see him.  Almost see Mulder bubbling under the surface.  Just out of reach, as if you extended your fingers a bit further he’d be able to grasp on and come back to you.  On the bad days he doesn’t recognize you or himself.  He is hostile, combative, angry at everything for a reason he just can’t put his finger on.

  Today is a bad day.  You knew it would be from the moment you woke him up and got him dressed.  Pulling the soft cotton tee over his head your eyes register the aged version of him.  The more than slightly wrinkled, gray, hunched over version of Mulder.  But his eyes are one thing time will never taint, the one thing that has not aged.  Your reflection in them the same for more years than you care to count.

  You help him into the bathroom intent on shaving his face for him, but he fights you.  He wants to do it himself.  Experience has taught you not to argue with him when he’s like this.  So you fill the sink with water, handing him the razor and shaving cream from the cabinet.  You shut the mirror watching as he readies himself, then you hear him gasp as he looks up at his reflection.

  “Who, who is that?”  He asks as he touches his face in confusion.  “Who is that old man?”

  You don’t want to tell him.  You can’t tell him.  You’ve been down this road before and it ended in the destruction of the bathroom.  Instead you take the razor from his hand and softly touch his cheek.  “Here, let me sweetheart.”

  The day carries on like so many others have, Mulder watches baseball quietly content on the couch.  You have lunch and dinner without incident.  You catch the sun setting out of the corner of your eye, knowing this is the worst time of the day for him.  You take a deep breath and call him over to have a cup of tea before bed.  He sits down at the table and without missing a beat, reaches to the center grabbing a hunk of butter with his spoon, dropping it into his cup.

  “Remember sweetheart, remember.”  He just gazes at you.  “I thought we agreed to never use butter for that reason again.”  Your words aren’t registering.  “Butter isn’t for the tea Mulder.”

  “You’re right.  I’m sorry.”

  “It’s ok Mulder it’s ok.”

  You give him your cup of tea, watching him as he sips it, unfettered by how excruciating this is for you.  Immortality a crime of the highest order.  To have to be the one to carry on when all your reasons for living have left.  When all you love and have loved become nothing more than fragments, tiny puzzle pieces of the people they once were.  Of course he’s still Mulder, physically anyway.  To have to watch him suffer everyday as his eyes glaze over with the inability to recognize or understand who he is, where he is, or who you are.  You’ll take care of him to his last breath, but what is to become of you when your soul is lowered into the ground beside his.  How are you to keep on living without him there, no matter his state.  You shake a loose tear from your eye as you help him up from his chair.

  You wrap the covers around him in bed, bending down gently to kiss his lips.  “I love you Mulder.  I love you.”

  “Scully?”  He whispers.  He takes hold of your face his eyes searching, rummaging through his brain, begging it to offer up answers, understanding of who you are, who he is.  He strokes your cheek with his thumb before slowly dropping his hands from your face.  “I… I’m… I’m sorry.  It’s just… it’s just… you… you look exactly like the woman I’m in love with.”

anonymous asked:

Long jeongcheolcheol hybrid au maybe?(with smut in between) were jeonghans a hybrid and seungcheol adopts him?

Fluff, smut (mostly fluff). No reader. Jeongcheol with a v e r y small side of Meanie. This is my first hybrid AU and I haven’t exactly read any properly before, but I hope you find this enjoyable ♥

→ Seungcheol is lonely (and full of love to give someone), and with the help of his trusty friend Wonwoo he adopts a cat hybrid named Jeonghan.

+ huge thanks to the three anons who sent in ideas, they were really helpful! ;u; if I didn’t directly incorporate your idea into the story, it still definitely helped me move forward with it! ♥ (+ this took a bit longer than intended because I’ve been super tired and kinda worried about my health, but it’s finally done!)

→ 11,109 words

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anonymous asked:

Ok this may be a little dramatic but consider: Enj with meningitis. Bc at first he's snapping at R like "I'm fine" just per the usual Enjolras Sick Routine Avoidance but he deteriorates pretty quickly and his temp skyrockets and even he realizes he needs the hospital

Okay, I’m clearly not a doctor, so I’m taking the information from the good old Google. 

Ficlet Time! 


“I’m fine!” Enjolras snaps, pen clenched tightly within one trembling fist as he stares daggers at his boyfriend as if he can will the brunet away with his gaze alone. He doesn’t miss the way Grantaire’s face falters slightly, nor does he miss the way Grantaire’s jaw juts out against his skin, a clear sign that the brunet is hiding clenched teeth behind pressed lips. 

But, he doesn’t care if he upsets Grantaire; he’s got too much work to do and no time to rest off this flu or whatever that’s leaving him feeling incredibly fatigued. He rubs a hand along the back of his neck as if he can smooth away the stiffness. The skin against his palm is warm, too warm to peg on the apartment heater, but he’s not surprised. He’s been running a low grade fever for the last few hours, but this work isn’t going to get itself done, so pretending that he’s okay is the only option for now. 

Grantaire wordlessly turns on his heel and exits the bedroom with a slam of the door. Enjorlas can’t keep the surprise from washing over his face; normally Grantaire will stay and argue or coddle him, so his abrupt leaving is something new to Enjolras. His eyes linger on the door for a moment, heart twitching uncomfortably in his chest, before he turns his attention back to his work with a low sigh. 


Enjolras is slowly pulled from sleep by an intense pounding spiking across his forehead. He groans and weakly presses one palm to it, only to force heavy muscles into a sitting position at the intense heat. He knows he wasn’t this hot before he went to sleep; but now he feels as if he’s burning from the inside out despite his limbs trembling as if he’s been locked in an ice box. 

He very carefully gets out of bed as to not wake Grantaire and stumbles out of the bedroom. He has to brace himself against a wall as he blindly makes his way to the bathroom for each step feels as if its landing against a tilting floor. He relies on muscle memory alone until he reaches the bathroom, and he forgoes turning on the lights in favor of stumbling toward the medicine cabinet behind the small mirror in the dark. 

A few bottles fall into the sink with loud clinks as he feels around for the thermometer, but after a few more moments, his fingers brush against the small device. He grabs it then stumbles back until he drops against the edge of the bathtub, legs no longer able to support him. He pops the instrument into his mouth and waits, arms wrapped around his trembling frame. 

When the thermometer beeps, he grabs it and stares at the reading with widening eyes: 105.2 Degrees. Not good, he tells himself, even he knows this. He moves to stand, to get to Grantaire, but he ends up falling to the floor against a harsh wave of dizziness that leaves his stomach twisting uncomfortably. Once more, he tries to stand, but his legs are too weak; his body is too weak. 

“R!” He calls out without much hope because of the brunet’s heavy sleeping, but within seconds, he hears a frantic thumping down the hallway followed by blinding lights that burn like direct sun rays against his eyes. He cups a hand over his eyes with a sharp wince. “Lights,” he mutters around chattering teeth, and a split second later, the room is once again cut to darkness. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Grantaire’s voice is breathless, frantic, and Enjolras can only hold out the thermometer toward the brunet. 

Grantaire drops to a knee in front of Enjolras and takes the thermometer with a shaking hand. He sucks in a sharp gasp at the high reading then takes his free hand to cup Enjolras’s cheek. He frowns deeply at the evident heat. 

“I need to go to the hospital,” Enjolras manages out, and Grantaire’s heart plummets in his chest as he nods and helps his boyfriend up. 


Enjolras is half-asleep when his hospital door slams open to reveal Courfeyrac with Marius right behind him. The two boys look as if they’ve just ran the entire way, and Enjolras groans at their presence. 

“Is he…” Courfeyrac starts in between gasping breaths. “What’s wrong?” 

“Meningitis,” Combeferre says from behind the two as he ushers them out of the way to get back into the room. “He’ll be fine; he just has to go on bed rest for about ten days.” 

“Jesus,” Marius mutters as he enters the room and sinks into an open chair. “R made it sound like he was dying.” 

“I thought he was,” Grantaire argues from his spot curled around Enjolras on the bed. He keeps the steady rhythm of carding gentle fingers through Enjolras’s damp hair as he shoots a narrow gaze toward the others. “He’s the one who told me he needed a hospital.” 

“Can we all stop talking like I’m not here and shut up?” Enjolras asks weakly, rolling over to bury his face against Grantaire’s chest. 

Grantaire shoots the others an arched brow look as he motions with his head to the door, and they leave with hushed promises to reassure the others that everything is okay. 

When the room falls silent, save the occasional flip of a paper as Combeferre reviews Enjolras’s paperwork, Grantaire wraps an arm around Enjolras’s back and pulls him closer to his chest, and Enjolras snuggles into the steady warmth, already half-asleep before his mind has time to process what’s happening. 

A Wolf’s Cycle, As Recorded By Dean Winchester

Pairing: Sam/Dean

Rating: Explicit (mostly porn)

Length: 7k

Summary: Sam gets bitten by a werewolf on a hunt, only his changes are a little unusual. Dean is in over his head. A different take on A/B/O tropes.

Warnings: Dubious consent, graphic injury, possessive codependency (more tags on AO3)

Read on AO3

Sam was heaving in Dean’s arms, taking huge lungfuls of air like a fish flopping in a bucket. Dean’s world was narrowed down to the bundle in his arms, outlined by each rapid beat of his heart. Sam was heavy in his arms, but god, not heavy enough, and Dean grit his teeth and put one foot in front of the other, trying not to scream at Sam’s breathless sobs or the slowly spreading warmth of blood soaking into Dean’s shirt.

Sam was a little quieter when Dean kicked open the door to his room and set him down the bed. Dean was at the sink a beat later, flinging open the medicine cabinet behind the mirror and grabbing the medkit. He hopped onto the bed, kneeling by Sam’s side, and flipped open the lid to the kit.

Dean always lost time in situations like this. After, his memory was murky at best. He got only snatches of the action, like a montage in a gruesome war movie–his bloodied hands, scissors slipping in his fingers as he cut Sam’s shirt off of him and removed his clothes. Dean’s hands hovering uncertainly over Sam’s bite- fuck, so much than a bite- an actual goddamn piece was taken out of Sam’s hip, the jagged gouges deep enough to show muscle.

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Favorite Things-chapter 3

Favorite Things Masterlist (Max, The Resident)

Summary- Max let’s his needs take over.

Warnings- Fluff, Non-Con Voyeurism, Smut, Masturbation, Angst

Author’s Note- Yeah, so Max is not a pure fluffy bunny (per se) in this fic. He is still going to do his creepy thing. That begins now. Quick chapter tonight. I live for comments and feedback. This isn’t beta’d even though my husband has offered…he doesn’t know I’ve branched off from Negan yet. Lol. Hey, honey!

Word Count-1.1k-ish

Tag List- If you want on or off, let me know.  Sorry if I forgot anyone..just remind me. Thanks!

@ali-pennell @stone-met @warriorqueen1991 @sherrybaby14 @unicorn-blood-splatter @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @ladylorelitany @melodicdolls @ninjacuddlepile @neganscatleesi @thatwriterizzy @sassyfiedscribbles @ashzombie13 @wadeyourebarelyalive @starshinesupergirl @adayinmymeadow @astrangegirlsmind @jeffreydeanmorganrarechar

Originally posted by heartfulloffandoms

Max stood and stared at her door. He put the food containers on the ground and knocked with a new found determination. Avonlea answered her eyes barely able to meet his. He crossed the threshold, wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her body against his. His other hand caressed her neck. His thumb resting lightly along her jaw. He bent forward and gently pressed his lips against hers. His mouth moved in slow open kisses coaxing her lips apart. His tongue softly dipped into her mouth. Her body relaxed, and her hands traveled up his chest, around his neck, and into his hair. She pulled him closer as her tongue began to move with his. He pressed his lips harder against her. Their movements became frenzied in their passion. Their bodies pressed against each other in search of friction. She moaned into his mouth. A hair’s breadth away from carrying her to the bedroom, Max pulled back. He leaned his forehead and against hers as they both sought to catch their breath.

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