Owned - End

Originally posted by hopeatuuli

Now it was surreal. This was to be your child’s room. A child. His child.

You saw it in his eyes, how much he loved this baby already. The excitement in your heart seemed to explode every moment you met his eyes.

“I can’t.” You but your lips nervously, hand shaking and looking at him for help.

He smiled and it was perfect, that moment. He put his hand on the doorknob and slowly turned it, pushing the door open and watching for your reaction.

You gasped and felt speechless.

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IT’LL HURT | PART 8 // Jin Series ft. Namjoon & if you squint, Yoongi shows up at one point

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9part 10 ❀ completed

In a swift movement, Y/N immediately stood up from Jin’s bed after she had laid down waiting for his arrival. It was dark in his and Yoongi’s room, the only lighting was the faint light that peeked from under the door from the hallway. Slowly, Y/N placed her phone on the nightstand besides Jin’s bed after she noticed the white picture framed that sat neatly on the table. 

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The Sneering

I worked at a HomeBADS store last winter. The whole place was built in the ruins of an old SNEERS ROEBUTT & Co. department store.


My boss, Mr. U (officious little prick) trained me in my duties, such as helping customers, opening up and closing, heating different sections of the building, dumping the old boiler, and making sure the elements don’t get a foothold.

He told me that this HomeBADS was built on the ruins of an old SNEERS ROEBUTT & Co. department store, and that when they were opening HomeBADS here, they actually had to repel a few SNEERS employee attacks. He also informed me that my predecessor went crazy a few winters ago and killed his coworkers, then himself. One of my coworkers warned me to stay out of the old swimwear section (or rather what used to be the old swimwear section when this place was still SNEERS), something bad happened there once.


As I made my rounds, did my daily routine and duties, the place….seemed to take on a life of its own. I felt like I had been here before, but this was my first time here, as far as I knew. I was walking through the isles on a slow winter day, and saw two twin girls holding hands. They were wearing HomeBADS uniforms, and I said “Oh…I didn’t realize you two worked here.” They grinned at me and said “Come work with us….forever….and ever….and ever!” Then they disappeared.



I was walking about the aisles, when a doe eyed, red haired woman in sneakers, tights, legwarmers, a leotard, an elastic belt, and a sweatband with wrist sweat cuffs was staring blankly ahead at me. “Can I help you, ma'am?” I asked her. “I’m looking for a small trampoline. Where can I find that?” she asked in a sad monotone voice. “Well, we don’t carry…” I replied, but before I could finish, she let out a sad sight and vanished, she liked like dust blowing in a breeze as she faded away. “What the hell…!?” was all I could say.


A group of kids in bright colored clothes and hairstyles I haven’t seen in over 25 years approached me and asked me where the Nintendo Games were, they asked if we carried the…“Power Pad” and the games for it. I blinked for a second, and they were gone.


“Emily! The war is over! Come, I have a coupon! Let us gather the family, and have our picture taken at the portrait studio!”

A well dressed army officer, in an outdated uniform walked about the store, calling out to someone I couldn’t see.

“The hounds, Emily! The hounds are hungry! The hounds are calling!”


I walked about the store aisles, grunting, shaking, thrusting my arms. I saw the elevator doors open, and blood pouring out of them ahain, as I had been seeing for a while. Whenever I reported these strange incidents, nobody believed me so I stopped getting concerned. The phantom customers, spooky “coworkers”, and odd occurrences in general became the norm for me.

I went up to an old jewelry counter, and buried my face in my hands, moaning. Then I looked up and I saw Floyd at the counter. “Hello, Floyd! How ya’ doing?”. Floyd smiled at me, and said “Oh I’m just fine, madame. And yourself?”.

“Things could be better, Floyd. Things could be better.” I said. I looked around. “Things are kinds slow around here, huh Floyd?”. “Yes, madame.” I smiled and we talked about the store about things in general. Floyd suggested I try on this beautiful necklace that “just came in”. It was exquisite! I saw it in the small mirror on the counter and I said “I’ll take it!”. I opened my wallet but found no cash.

“Say, Floyd. I seem to be temporary light here. How’s my credit?”. Floyd replied with “No worries, your credit is fine!” All you have to do is kill your coworkers!“.

"Well, I dunno…” I said.

“They’ll be happier as ghosts, just like the customers.” Floyd assured me. “You don’t seem that happy.” I replied. “Oh, what? I’m happy, I’m VERY happy! ‘La-la-la-lalalala! I’m happy!’ Now waste your coworkers, and the necklace is yours!” Floyd replied in an exasperated tone.


I walked into a section of the store where I wasn’t supposed to go, and I saw swimsuits hanging up. And curtained dressing rooms.

A woman opened the curtain of one of the dressing rooms. She wore a one piece, striped swimsuit from another era. “Does this make me look fat?” she asked me. I took another look and saw a cadaverous woman in that same swimsuit. She walked towards me arms outstretched, and went “BWAAA-HAHAHAHAHAHA! AHHHH HAHAHAHAHAAAAA!” I freaked out and ran out of there.


I found myself at a typewriter, typing over and over again. I happened to notice that the words on the paper were “COME SEE THE SOFTER SIDE OF SNEERS” over and over again.

Later that day, a man who looked like Al from Home Improvement asked me where he could find the hardware department, and as I was about to tell him we didn’t have a hardware department, this is HomeBADS, he vanished.

I then ran into a man who used to be a manager here at HomeBADS, not long ago. His name was Grody…Dullbert Grody…he told me how his coworkers were upset by this place, and by him…one of them even stole a box of matches, and tried to burn the place down, but he…corrected them. He said I needed to do the same, if I were to be an effective manager.

My coworkers became concerned with my behavior. At one point, I had one of them cornered on the staircase, and she had to knock me out with a baseball bat, drag me to a closet in the breakroom and lock me in there. “You can come out when you’re no longer insane!”.

I ate the snacks and sipped the bottled water stored in there. Someone knocked on the closet door. “This is Mr. Grody, madame. The ghouls and I are concerned with the progress, or rather lack thereof, regarding you and your coworkers. We did give you that lovely necklace, and we would hate to take it back!” Said Mr. Grody. “Can’t talk, eating!” I said with a mouthful of ultra stale Eagle potato chips that had been in that storage room forever. “Oh for God’s sake!” said Mr. Grody. The door opened, and all of the ghost customers and my ghost coworkers, including Floyd and Mr. Grody, pulled me put of the storage closet as I kicked and screamed. They handed me an axe, and Mr. Grody told me to get to work.

I chopped open a door and said “It’s the Caroll Burnett show, brought to you by SNEERS…!” an empty room. “Damn!” I walked off, but not before tugging my ear.

I chopped open another door and sang the opening theme to the Tracy Ullman show. This time I was looking at an empty stairwell. “Damn!”

Finally, I chopped open a door someone had written “REDRUM” on for some reason, and I shouted through the hole “LIVE FROM NEW YORK, IT’S SATURDAY NIGHT!” and I gave a devilish grin though the hole. “AHHHHHH!” My coworkers scattered like rabbits. I chased after all of them, limping as I held the axe, my necklace gently swishing about.

I went though what used to be the shoe section of SNEERS, and saw phantom customers sitting on chairs that were no longer there, just floating there, trying on shoes none of them sold here at HomeBADS.

I ran through the old electronics section past phantom kid customers standing in front of store demo game setups that were no longer there, as they help NES controllers that were plugged into nothing.

I ran past the exercise equipment, the doe eyed woman I had first seen now happily bouncing on a small trampoline. “I’ll take it!” she said.

I chased my coworkers all over the store. We ran through the old portrait studio, and almost ruined a phantom family’s photo session with the photographer.

My coworkers escape outside, and I chased them, shouting “I’m coming!” along with indistinguishable howling. I eventually sat in the snow, and I froze solid.

My brother came to get me. “I spoke to your boss. He was really mad about you chopping holes in the doors, and scaring your coworkers like that. He has no idea where you got this axe, but you can’t bring something like that to work. He says you’re fired, and he gave me your last paycheck, to give to you.”

I said nothing.

“You wanna go home, get showered and changed?” he asked me. “NO.” I replied.

“You wanna stay there some more and be frozen?” my brother asked me. “Yes.” I replied.

“You want me to bring you some Carl’s the Third?” he asked me. “Okay.” I replied.

“What do you want from Carl’s the Third?” my brother asked. “3 piece chicken tenders. Small fries, and small Dr. Pepper.” I replied. My brother nodded, put an amazing-on gift card in my shirt pocket, wrapped me in a blanket from his car trunk, kissed me on the forehead, and said “I’ll be right back. Nice necklace, by the way.” I said nothing more than “Thank you.”

A few minutes later, my boss walked up to me with a troubled expression, and showed me an old black and white framed picture that he had found in the building. It had a crowd of grinning people, in period attire, and at the front of the crowd was a woman who looked EXACTLY LIKE ME, but her clothes were different, and she was wearing the same necklace as mine. The caption on the photo just below her in the picture read


Three’s Company- (1/2)

Pairings: Platonic!Steve Rogers x Reader, Platonic!Bucky Barnes x Reader, eventual Romantic!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Requested by @theloveofanauthor:  Imagine where the reader is someone Bucky and Steve both knew before Hydra and the ice. She’d helped Bucky save Steve’s life and now Hydra has her and has been experimenting and torturing her. She has powers, but can’t control them. I was thinking more set nowadays, like Hydra has been experimenting on her because her powers are Chameleon and she can transport herself places. Maybe SHIELD gets a whiff of a powered person and send them to save her. I’d like her to end up with Bucky.

(I don’t own the GIF).

Word Count: 1458

Warnings: Mild swearing.

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Mind Games

Author- @skepticalstilinski

Characters- Void!Stiles x Reader

Words-  3174


A/N- I finally finished my fanfic! Oh my god! Thank you so much @villain-void for showing me that insta edit of Void!Stiles, you are literally so awesome, ilysm!! This fanfic is for @villain-void - she inspired me so hard to publish this fanfic, GODD THANK YOU D!!! LOVVVE YOUU!!

Song Choice- Right Here by Chase Atlantic (their songs today are so fucking good, plus the song goes so well with this fanfic!!) hope you enjoy this fanfics and more are going to come xx!

Originally posted by stilinski-jpeg

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anonymous asked:

What do you think Stiles and Lydia's house would be like as adults?

Okay I hate how specific my head canons for this are. 


  • Yellow house
  • Small
  • Deep red door/shutters. 
  • There’s a small backyard patio that Lydia literally makes Stiles do all the work on, so like they have a deck with a grill and a big table (bigger than their kitchen table) and Lydia sits out there grading papers and bossing Stiles around while he does literally all of the gardening and heavy lifting, 
    • He wants to hate her for it but he gets very, very nicely rewarded. 

Living Room:

  • Stiles gets to pick out the couch, that’s his one job, and Lydia builds the rest of the room around it. 
  • One of her art pieces is hanging up above the couch. Stiles does it when she’s out of town, and at first she’s mad but she grows to really like it and it actually inspires her to paint more, which it turns out is really amazing stress relief for Lydia. 
  • They have nerdy-ass throw pillows. 
    • Like, one of them has Shakespeare on it. 
    • One of them has the periodic table of elements
    • One of them has the cover of Stiles’ favorite book that his dad used to read to him when he was growing up. 
    • So on, so forth.
  • There’s candles everywhere, which they totally intend to use but once they get a dog they’re banned from lighting them because suddenly everything in the house is a fire hazard. 
  • Lydia’s got cozy blankets hidden behind the couch and she likes to wrap herself up in them when she’s got a cold. All you can see is the top of her hair and a red little nose. 
  • There’s really fancy, expensive looking art/photography books on the coffee table for guests and Stiles always puts his coffee cups on them. Which, one one hand, yay, coaster, but on the other hand Lydia payed $80 for that book when they were in Paris??? Like???
  • They have an alcohol cabinet in the living room that they rarely ever touched but Stiles keeps stocked. He always knows what people want when they come over, due to his bartending days in college, which makes him an excellent host. 


  • Pretty small
  • Stiles whines about lack of counter space frequently but then Lydia has to sit really close when he’s cooking so like. What’s the real loss, here?
  • There’s a small circular table that comfortably seats two and less-comfortably seats three. They keep saying that they’re going to get a bigger table, but they never do because they ultimately not being able to host stuff. 
  • (If they do people over, it’s in the summer, on the back patio, but other than that, their house is their space and they like it that way. They go to Scott’s for most holidays, anyways.) 
  • The fridge is covered in a collage of their lives. Postcards from Isaac, magnets from Kira, pictures of the pack members printed out and lovingly stuck on there. 
    • There’s a really nice picture of all of them together on the little table next to the front door, where they keep the mail and put their keys in the little dish next to the fake flowers, but this is where all the lovely, goofy pictures are. 
  • The window is perched over the sink, looking out into the backyard, and Stiles likes watching Lydia’s face in the morning sunlight as she washes their plates after breakfast on Saturday mornings. 

Lydia’s Office: 

  • Almost everything is white or soft blue
  • This is her sacred room, it’s very soothing to her 
  • There’s shelves and shelves of books, a desk made of black wood, and an extremely comfortable chair that goes with it. 
  • There’s pretty and simple art on the walls so that it’s not completely bare, but not nice enough art that Lydia feels distracted by it while she’s working. 
  • It’s usually very neat but also covered in stacks of paper, upon which Lydia keeps her reading glasses. (Whenever she can’t find them, they’re always in her office.) 
  • Stiles is rarely allowed to come in, and if he is in there, he has to sit on the white couch and be quiet. 
    • Same goes for the dog. 
  • It has a window seat, which is why Lydia loves it, and she’ll frequently just go read on the window seat on the days that she doesn’t have much to do. 
    • She sketches Stiles from memory on rainy days while she sits in the window seat. She is on a quest to get his nose right– feels like she can never quite capture its spirit
    • She’s A+ at drawing his mouth though, probably because she has a very intimate knowledge of it. 


  • Light wood, no carpet. 
  • There’s black & white pictures in dark black frames leading all the way up the stairs. 
    • Lydia is very proud of the way they’re arranged. 
    • She thinks they’re very aesthetic. 
  • The stairs are lined with pictures of the most important people– Stiles’ mom and dad on their wedding day, Lydia’s mother holding baby Lydia, Scott and Stiles as little kids, Scott and Stiles as teenagers, Allison laughing and wrinkling her nose as she holds a dandelion, Malia, Kira, and Isaac posing together at a long-forgotten Christmas party, Mrs. McCall hugging Stiles around the middle at his college graduation, Stiles and Lydia and Scott at Lydia’s thesis defense, Stiles and Lydia sitting with his dad at the kitchen table on Thanksgiving, several pictures of Scott’s little girls, together and separately, and finally, at the very top, Stiles and Lydia on their wedding day, a candid that Kira had caught with her expensive camera that had somehow come out better than anything their official photographer had snapped of them. 


  • Their bedroom is the room of the house which had taken the most compromise. 
  • It’s a soft white color with gauzy white drapes that blow prettily in the breeze whenever the windows are open. 
    • Stiles says it reminds him of the veil in Harry Potter. 
  • There’s a very tall king sized bed with a very simple, modern bed frame and a dark headboard. 
  • The duvet is deep, dark blue. The sheets are white. The large decorative pillows that they throw over the bed are another shade of blue. 
    • Lydia loves these. Stiles hates them because it makes it harder to leap onto the bed with finesse at the end of the day. 
    • He usually ends up taking them off when he comes home from work, kicks his pants to the floor, and settles into bed to do nothing. 
  • There’s two bedside tables with matching lamps. 
    • Lydia’s bedside table always has a book on it, marked with her spot. She tries to read a little every night but for the most part does not succeed. It also has a nice candle on it and an old silver clock that was her grandmother’s, and a picture of Stiles and Scott. 
    • Stiles’ bedside table usually has money from his pockets, candy wrappers, mugs, and folders from work that Lydia is always tucking into his second drawer down in an effort to straighten up because “it’s not like you’re going to do work in bed anyways, Stiles!” 
    • It’s also got a picture of him and Lydia at the winter formal sophomore year and another one of Lydia with his dad. 
  • Stealing this from @rememberiloveyou: Lydia, for their anniversary one year, bought a huge wooden slab and painted “I love you” “I know” onto it in beautiful white brushstrokes and very fancy handwriting. It hangs right above their bed and is Stiles’ favorite part of the room. 
    • He had been begging her to let him have a Star Wars poster. This is the compromise. 
  • There’s a little chaise lounge in the corner which is supposed to be for decoration but ends up being where Stiles shoves most of his clothes when he’s too lazy to walk over to their walk-in closet and throw them in the laundry bin. 
  • Lydia’s bureau was a gift from her mother when she moved into her first apartment with Stiles and it is boss
    • Antique, enormous, with a huge, ornate mirror that is her pride and joy. 
    • It has one of those soft, cushy stools. 
    • Her makeup drawers are so organized she wants to cry. It is literally her happy place. 
  • There’s a bunch of blue rugs that stretch across the hardwood floor. Their dog likes to sleep on them. In the winter, Stiles cracks up as Lydia jumps from rug to rug to try to avoid how cold the floor is. 

And then there’s a guest room that is easily the fanciest room of the house and is Lydia’s pride and joy. Stiles didn’t give a rats ass what it looked like so she just sorta went off and made it super decorative and modern. Also, they’ve got a bathroom with a separate bathtub and shower because Lydia loves taking baths. 

There: Epilogue (Bucky Barnes x reader)

Hello babes! I hope your Saturday is going well! I really should be finishing up a project… butttttt I felt really inclined to finish off this series and I couldn’t keep myself from writing it. I’ll try and keep everyone updated on which fics I’ll be posting on what days. If I can handle doing these three fics at the same time, then I’ll open up my requests again. Thanks for understanding, and enjoy this cute little epilogue! xoxo

Description: You lost your world. You lost the love of your life. All by yourself, with nobody to support you. Your daughter would have to grow up never knowing her father. But what happens when Bucky comes along? Will you let him in, or will you push him away like everyone else?

Warnings: None

Chapter 9 


10 Years Later: 

“Bye, Mom! Bye, Dad!” Victoria waved goodbye as she hopped up the steps of the school bus. Every morning she had a shining smile on her face, regardless of whether it was a Monday or not. 

“Bye, sweetie. Have a good day at school!” You watched your little girl sit with her friends, instantly absorbed into their conversation. You were standing on your porch, your arm around Bucky’s torso, your head leaning on his chest. “That’s our baby girl.” You tilted your head up at him, giving him a soft smile. 

“She’s growing up so fast.” He placed a kiss on your forehead, pulling you closer to him as the bus drove away. “I still remember the day she started calling me dad.” He sighed, a soft smile coming across his face at the memory. 

“Vic, I made pancakes!” Bucky was sliding the hot cakes on the plate as he yelled up the stairs. 

“I’m coming!” Her voice was small and distant. She was still in her room. You were in your office down the hall, finishing up some paperwork for Fury. Little five year old Victoria came pounding down the stairs. She passed by your office, kissing you on the cheek. “Good morning, Mommy.” She gave you that gleaming smile that always made your day. 

“Morning, sweetheart.” You pulled her into a quick hug. “Better go eat those pancakes before he eats them for you.” You smirked and gave her a wink, and she ran out of your office into the kitchen. 

“Don’t eat my pancakes!” Her socks made her slide along the tile, and she stuck her arms out to stop him. Her eyes were wide with fear. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Who said I was going to eat your pancakes?” Bucky chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee as he leaned against the counter. “If anything, I would eat your mommy’s.” 

“I heard that!” The two could hear your voice from down the hall, making him snicker, and Victoria giggle. She hopped up into her chair at the table as Bucky brought over her plate. 

“Here you go, baby.” He smiled down at her lovingly as he placed it on the table. He placed a soft kiss on her head before turning away, walking back to the stove. 

“Thank you, Daddy.” She said cheerfully, diving into her breakfast. Bucky stopped in his tracks, taking a moment. 

“Wait, what did you call me?” He slowly turned around to face her, his voice soft. He was stunned, but in the good way. 

“I-I called you Daddy… Is that okay?” She was sheepish, seeming to shrink in her seat. 

“Yeah, yeah. That’s fine, baby.” He scoffed, a big smile on his face. “I’m just wondering, what made you decide to call me that?” Tears were starting to well up in his eyes, but he tried to blink them away. 

“Well, you love my mommy like a daddy would, you treat me like a daddy would, and I love you like you’re my daddy. So, I thought I might as well call you that. Because you’re like a daddy to me.” She gave him a small smile, taking another bite of her pancakes. 

“I love you so, so much.” He walked briskly back over to the table and pulled her into a hug. She squeezed him back, glad to have him in her life. Silent, happy tears fell down his cheeks. 

Little did either of them know, you were hanging on every word they said as you sat in your office. Soon, your tears were starting to stain the papers that were on your desk. You knew those two had a bond that nobody could break, and that day was honestly one of the best days of all of your lives. 

Bucky tilted up your chin with his metal arm, placing a sweet kiss on your lips. You smiled and took his hand in yours, walking back into the house. Tons of pictures were hung up on the walls from all the trips you took together, all the adventures you had. There were a few from your wedding, all of your smiles radiating in the shots. A year after realizing you loved Bucky, the two of you had gotten married. Each picture showed Victoria growing up with you and him by her side. But, one in particular caught your eye. It was sitting on the fireplace mantle in a white frame. The picture was of Bucky and Victoria in the ice cream shop, her face covered in chocolate ice cream, the day that you told her that you and Bucky were in love. 

“Hey, babe?” You cocked your head to the side, picking up the frame. Bucky was quickly by your side, his flesh arm wrapping around your shoulder, looking down at the picture in your hands. He smiled. 

“I remember that day. One of the best days of my life.” He pressed a kiss to your head. 

“I never got to ask you what you two were whispering about that day.” You looked up at him, shaking your head. “It’s been ten years and I still don’t know. Do you mind telling me?” 

He chuckled, nodding his head. “She asked me how much I loved you and if I was going to stay with you forever. I told her that I’ve never loved anybody as much as I love you, and that I wasn’t planning on ever leaving you two.” He gave you his signature smile. Tears began to well up in your eyes. 

“God, I love you.” You pressed your body against his and pulled him down for a kiss. 

“I love you, too.” He smiled against your lips, then deepened the kiss. Bucky pulled away, quirking his eyebrow up at you then began shifting his eyes between the stairs and you. You giggled, and nodded, and he picked you up effortlessly, bringing you to your bedroom for a little alone time. 

Out of the many pictures that were in your house, there was always one that would hold a special place in your heart. It sat on Vic’s nightstand, so that she would never forget where she came from. The picture was of you, Pietro, and her when she was just a baby. It always brought a smile to your face, and you thanked your stars every day for having him be a part of your life and blessing you with such a beautiful little girl. You would always love him, even years from now. 

Looking down from above was Pietro. He watched over all three of you, every day, all the time. He smiled down at you and Bucky, glad that you were happy. 

“Thank you for taking care of them, Bucky. Thank you for being there for them.”

That’s a wrap! I hope you all liked it! I had a lot of fun writing this series, that’s for sure. Have a wonderful day, and always remember that I love you all very, very much. Thank you for sticking with me. xoxo


@barely-emily @purplekitten30 @mcfuccfairy @fandomlover2001 @elegantnightmareshiro @buckysplumfondler @arabellaaurorabarnes @imgettingmarriedtobuckybarnes @badassbaker @life-is-fuucked @elwenia @thegirlwithnodragontattoo @skeletoresinthebasement @reneekgofficial @cassandras-musings @alyssiamking @justmasblack @deanmonslittleangel @addictionmarvel @sebstanwassup @itsemmyb

ceramic teacups [draco malfoy]

request: “Oh man can you do a draco x reader using 248 and 370 please?” - @tragicallypetty

word count: ~1600

a/n: if this got terribly confusing/out of hand i apologize, i started off in one mood in the beginning and then, due to my mood swings, ended in a totally different one. if this is crazy sorry! im a crazy lady! lmfao anyway enjoy i hope this is what u wanted!!!

248: “please, don’t leave.”

370: “you know, it’s okay to cry.”

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anonymous asked:

prompt: Haymitch suddenly realizing that he´s in love with Effie, sometime before de 74th hunger games. Thank you! Your os are the best.

Here you are [X]

A Revelation In The Dead Of Night

Haymitch woke up with an odd feeling.

It took him a few seconds of slowly emerging from his slumber, his eyes still closed, to realize what the feeling was. Peaceful. He felt peaceful.

His body was heavy and the sheets were warm, the pillow under his head smelt like fresh flowers, and he couldn’t, for the life of him, find the will to open his eyelids. He had forgotten how it felt not to wake up gasping for breath, disoriented and terrified by a nightmare. For the first time in a long time, he felt good. Rested.

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Warnings: mention of death

Characters: Misha x reader

Word count: 983

Originally posted by mishacollins-gifs

Staring at the picture in front of him, Misha ran a frustrated hand through his hair before reaching for his phone, finally taking his eyes off the white framed picture, which had consumed his thoughts for the past half an hour, to type out a quick message to his date.

He couldn’t go, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He saw it as cheating…despite everything that has happened.

Placing his phone back onto the table, he ran his hands across his face in exhaustion. “Daddy?” The sound of his five year old son standing in the doorway nearly made him jump out of his seat. “What’s wrong?”

Misha weakly smiled, shook his head, and mumbled out a “nothing”. His son rubbed his eyes sleepily as his tiny feet took him closer to his father, tugging on Misha’s pants leg, insisting to be picked up. Glancing down at his son, he smiled a little more. He was a perfect combination of your and Misha’s skin tone mixed as one, tiny freckles lining across his nose and cheeks, topped with your beautiful hair and Misha’s bright glowing blue eyes.

Lifting the tiny, almost weightless child onto his lap, he placed a small kiss to his forehead, reminding him that he loved him no matter what happens. “Why aren’t you asleep?” He asked his son, balancing him on his thighs. “It’s nearly three in the morning,”

“Can’t sleep,” He said, followed by a yawn. Turning around in Misha’s lap, he clutched onto the picture frame that Misha had been staring at, trying to touch your face. “Mummy’s pretty,”

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Mirror Pt 5

Just a short section today because I am on a trip! Might not be anything else until I get back. But this is one of the sections I’ve been most looking forward tooooooo

Alex is in the mess hall with Danielle when the facility goes into lockdown. He pauses with his spoon full of mushy, rehydrated peas halfway to his mouth, frowning as the emergency lights flare into existence and the door slams shut. He can hear the echoes of other doors shutting and locking in the adjacent hallway. His suit blares an alarm, but he immediately shuts off the sound.

“What’s going on?” he demands of Danielle.

“Hang on, I’m checking,” she says, processors whirring. “Sarah set it off, but I don’t know…wait.”

She sinks a little in the air, and if she still had her face, it would be rapidly paling.

“A containment breach? But that can’t be…”

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Cursed (pt 13)

Originally posted by koreanmusicfan

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 | pt 5 | pt 6 | pt 7 | pt 8 | pt 9 | pt 10 | pt 11 | pt 12 | pt 13 | pt 14

Cat!Yoongi x Reader AU

Warning: Implied smut, implied don’t toot your horn LOL

(A/n): Yooo, so I’m sorry if you’re waiting for Interference, I wanted to finish off Cursed first. Slowly writing it atm if you were wondering^^  

Everything was perfect, way too perfect that you even pinched yourself to see if you were dreaming. You felt boneless, legs jelly as you stirred awake the next morning. A smile spreads across your face as soon as you notice Yoongi curled up beside you, his arm slung around your waist. His expression is so serene and ethereal, you couldn’t help but smile wider. Sooty lashes brushing over his cheeks, pink lips parted ever so slightly, and his hair magically swept perfectly across his forehead. Suddenly, you’re reminded of the day he’d first transformed into a human, bare and snuggled up with you. Both shocked and entranced by the extremely good-looking stranger sleeping in your bed.

The longer you stared at his features, you finally noticed the disappearance of the chain-link that was usually around his neck. Your stomach flipped and you prayed, that this meant that he was free from his curse. God only knows why, but as long as he was finally free.

He doesn’t stir, even as you lean over and press a tender kiss on his lips before peeling off his arm to get out of bed.

The first step off the bed and right away you lose balance and strength, just barely catching yourself and forcing yourself to stand with the help of the nightstand. In all honesty, you’d rather crawl back into bed and spend the rest of the day cuddled up with your slumbering boyfriend, but work calls and you can’t miss work - even if you had an extremely attractive and naked boyfriend knocked out on your bed.

After a much needed shower, you stop in front of the mirror to only notice the purplish-red blotches that scatter all over your neck and chest. Shoulders drooping, you sigh, quietly cursing at Yoongi for marking the higher parts of your neck that can’t be covered by the collar of your shirt. Surely a turtleneck would be fine, a white slim fitting, long sleeve turtleneck with navy dress pants.

Picking at it and fixing the collar of the turtleneck, you feel arms wrap around your waist, someone’s chest pressing into your back. In the full-body mirror you see the reflection of Yoongi standing behind you, his metallic hair messy, and his gaze hooded and unfocused as he examines your front profile in the mirror. A shiver races down your spine, his lips barely grazing that spot behind your ear, breath hot against your skin as you both lock gazes.

“Do you have to go?” he asks, voice low and husky, tightening his arms around you and nuzzling his face into your covered neck, “Why are you covering up too? Why not let them see?”

One hand leaves your middle to tug harshly on the neck of your top, pulling down until he can see one of his many hickies.

“Mm, why not call in, just for today,” he hums, head lowering to lave his tongue over the bruise, “Stay, please.”

You catch the strain in his soft tone, the crack at the end that has your heart breaking, how could you ever leave him alone if he’s pleading to you like that? Turning in his hold, you smile softly up at him, meeting him halfway in a slow kiss, his hands gripping at your hips to lead you back to bed. In the midst of sweet pecks and long smooches, his voice mutters sweet nothings with a smile spread across his lips.

You find yourself forgetting about work, and lose yourself in Yoongi for a second time, your clothes finding their way on the ground with his hands roaming all over your body. This time he’s languid and more lethargic, movements slow and steady, paced and gentle. His mouth is hot fire against your skin just like how you remember from last night, whispering your name as you bend and mold against him.


Where the hell are you?!”

You wince, pulling your phone away from your ear, “Chill, I’m at home… I got a little… er distracted, so if you could do me a cute little favor and fill in for my absence~”

You owe me one, and an explanation, I smell that bull crap right now,” your friend sighs as you chirp a grateful I love you.

Once the phone call is over, Yoongi’s arm around your waist pulls you close to his front, your bodies tired and spent from your early morning activities. Carefully, he brushes your hair over your shoulder before pressing his lips against the nape of your neck.

“You’re so beautiful,” he sighs, snuggling closer to you, legs tangling underneath the bed sheets that cover your bare bodies.

Your heart flutters and cheeks flare, head turning to kiss him, and eventually your whole body to face his. His fingers press gently into your hips, while yours smooth over his cheeks and dive into his mussed up grey hair. Lips parting, his wet appendage dips inside your mouth, smothering your soft moan as he tastes you once again.

“Yoongi,” you sigh, pulling away reluctantly, you let your forehead rest on his, basking in his presence and warmth. Biting your lip once he acknowledges your call, you trace one finger along his collarbone, “Your necklace… it’s gone, I noticed it earlier… does this mean…?”

He nods, leaving a small peck on the tip of your nose, “Yeah. It’s gone.”

His smile is bitter and forced, and you catch it until he covers it by nuzzling his face into your neck. You choose not to elaborate on it and stay silent, cradling his head closer to your body.

“I love you,” you whisper, but he’s already asleep to respond or hear.

The next day when you go to work, you’re expecting your friend to attack you with a bunch of questions, and she does just that once you both are on lunch break.

“You better spill those details right now,” she threatened jokingly, raising her hotdog with a glint in her eyes.

“Don’t play with your food, you child,” you scoff, laughing as she pouts and puts it down. And then you told her, starting from the date to your first time with Yoongi, how he caught you touching yourself to making love, and finally yesterday morning when he managed to persuade you to rejoin him in bed instead of going to work.

By the end of your little story time, she was clapping and squealing, “I’m so proud of you!! Damn, was he good?”

Blushing, you bite your lip and nod shyly to which she giggles.

In the midst of eating, your phone vibrates, your lock screen illuminated along with the incoming message you received. You gawk at the ID reading “Jinri”, the message below saying “Hey :) Can we meet up maybe? I have something of Yoongi’s still left at my place, and there’s no way to get a hold of him, so if you could, maybe come over and get it, that’d be great! Here’s the address: xxxx xxxx xxxx apt 12”

Totally fishy, you think dryly, wondering if maybe you should tell Yoongi instead of going yourself. Anyway, in the first place, how did she even get your cell phone number?

It screams trickery all over it, there was something up, but you didn’t care and went ahead yourself. There’s a part of you that sets up alarms thinking about sending Yoongi to his very pretty ex-girlfriend’s apartment, being alone with her in her place behind closed doors. You remember the first time you saw her, at the park when Yoongi approached her to have a little talk. Was not a very nice feeling, you thought with a frown as you make your way down the hallway of Jinri’s apartment complex.

You come face to face with the nameplate beside the intimidating wooden door of Jinri’s front door, a big fat 12 engraved into the plate of metal. Your fist meets the wooden structure to knock, but the force opens the already cracked door. Blinking, you peer inside the apartment, wondering if it was alright for you to enter without permission.

That’s when you heard it. A voice. It wasn’t Jinri’s, it was a man’s voice though not clear enough for you to tell whose.

Deciding to step inside, you mutter a soft apology, taking off your heels and treading deeper into the nicely decorated apartment. The walls are charcoal with white furnishings, white couches and glass tables, white picture frames and glass chandeliers.

“-I can’t do this to her.”

You freeze, recognizing the voice to be coming from the bedroom. Dread fills you up to the brim as you step closer to the ajar door, light spilling into the dark hallway from the room. That’s Yoongi, it’s no doubt your boyfriend is in there with who you assume is Jinri.

“But you made a promise Min Yoongi, a bet, a challenge, an exchange,” Jinri’s voice speaks up, confident and smooth with a hint of amusement in her tone, “If you got the girl to fall in love with you and fuck her, then freedom was yours - you have to leave her, break her in the end.”

“Did you not say in the beginning - oh so confidently - that she’d be an easy fuck, that you’d be free in no time?”

“Yeah, that’s before I fell—”

What bullshit this is, you think bitterly, wondering if you were the star of a cliche drama. Shoving the door open, you catch the narrowed eyes and nasty smirk of Jinri’s before focusing on the guilt and shock on Yoongi’s face. You’re not having any of it when he gapes and tries to excuse himself but you heard it, you heard the truth about your relationship.

Of course. That’s how life was. You knew from the start, that it was weird how Yoongi would pick someone like you over another when he could literally have any girl he wanted.

“So this is all a lie? You never liked me, you’ve been using me?”

You laugh bitterly, holding your hand up to stop him from interrupting you. Your eyes sting, tears welling up as you try to blink them back. The world was falling at your feet, but you couldn’t just break down right in front of the enemy.

“Congratulations Min Yoongi, you won, you tricked a naive little virgin girl such as myself, fucked me and made me fall for you.. Congratulations on freeing yourself, you fucking asshole.”
“Now that you’ve gotten what you wanted, leave me alone, don’t ever show up in front of me ever again… you can go fuck yourself, Min Yoongi.”

With one last look, you manage a dry smile before running out, snatching your heels along the way.

“What can I say, it was quite a sight to see the one and only player Min Yoongi fall in love for the first time with the girl he’ll inevitably break the heart of and leave. Grade A+ acting Suga,” Jinri shrugs nonchalantly, stopping Yoongi before he can go chasing after you, “Face it, the second you messed with me, your fate was sealed.”

With a snap of her fingers, he feels his body become light, a chain appearing around his neck, this time with a watch attached to it. He lands on all fours, body now the same metallic feline he was when he was first cursed.

“You didn’t think I’d actually let you go free after what you did to me, did you?” she giggles, bending down to caress the smooth metal of the watch connected to his chain. He hisses however and smacks her hand away, claws peeking out of his paws threateningly. Clicking her tongue, she snatches him by the fold of tough skin on the back of his neck, yanking him up until he was eye-level with her.

“You knew all this time then huh, you planned this out, you never planned for me to be free,” he growled, glaring at her, “You told her to meet you, so she could deliberately hear about the plan.. You fucking bitch.”

“Seems like you do have a brain after all Suga darling,” She tilts her head over slightly, smiling sweetly as she lets his given - by you - name roll off her tongue casually, “You know… It could have been any other woman and the same thing would have happened.”
He shakes his head vigorously, narrowing his eyes at her, squirming around when she digs her nails into his skin, “No it couldn’t have, because she’s one of a kind, there’s no one else in this world who could take her place. And it fucking hurts me that this is how it ends.”
Jinri whistles, smirking as she drops him, the feline part of him automatically twisting to land on all fours safely, “Wow, look how whipped you gotten ever since you met her.”
“Don’t you think, this is what you get for playing with the heart of a witch?” she sighs, as she snaps her fingers and he’s back to human form with the chain still around his neck. He hurriedly pulls on his clothes, shoving his feet through the legs of his jeans and slipping on his shirt, pausing when she leans over to tap on the clock connected to his necklace, the object glowing for a brief second until it disintegrates.
“Your time is ticking Min Yoongi, why don’t you make your last hour of living worth it?”

He snorts, crossing his arms over his chest haughtily, “And what’s to happen once I disappear? Hell? Heaven? A mere dark void?”
Shaking her head, she takes a seat on her bed while chirping brightly, “Oh no, you’re going to be a lovely wisp trapped in a jar stored on a shelf alongside the rest of the collection of souls.”
Collection? Wow how many other men played you, you must be a really gullible witch to actually think that a man who seems interested would want you for more than just your body,” he snaps back icily, shoving on his shoes.

Her eyes narrow at him, frowning at his counter, “Shut up, you better take this chance I’m giving you to say goodbye to her, afterall, you won’t be able to see her again.”

And he does, slipping on the rest of his clothes before he’s out the door in a heartbeat and on his way to your place.


You’re curled up on the bed sobbing, body quivering as you blow your nose into the softness of a square of tissue. What the hell were you thinking? Did you really think it to be possible that someone like Yoongi would actually fall for someone like you? For someone like him to even approach you, it had be a part of some sort of fucked up bet. And to know that after all this time he was to throw it all away, not returning your love and breaking your heart. It’s no wonder he was spacing out a lot, it’s no wonder he never said I love you back when you said it, it’s also no wonder the guilt and despair that’s waging a war all over his expression when he lets the emotions slip out accidentally.

Now you know what heartbreak is like, your chest tightening painfully, crushed and torn while endless cries and wails tumble from your mouth. All the times you’ve had to awkwardly comfort a crying friend who got her heart broken, you never really understood the pain they went through, so how the hell were you supposed to handle your first, for pretty much everything?

Yoongi would never hurt you, you laugh dryly, remembering your anxious thoughts before he made love to you. Or maybe he was just fucking you, you thought it was love, but it was just him trying to earn his freedom..

The doorbell chimed and you already knew who it was and chose to ignore it. The ringing turned desperate, you just imagine him jamming the doorbell, finger vibrating over the button before he got tired and began pounding his fists on the door.

“Just hear me out (Y/n)!”

You eventually peel yourself off the bed, slowly trudging towards the front door, each step is heavy as you wipe your face vigorously. Resting your back against the door, you slide down until you’re seated on the ground.

“What else is there for you to say?”

On the other side of the door, Yoongi feels his heart skip at the sound of your voice, resting his hands and forehead on the door. “There’s a lot of things I have to say… you didn’t even let me finish what I was about to say back there…”

“Yes it’s true that in the beginning this was all a game, Jinri was supposed to be a hook up, turns out she was a witch and when I hurt her she– well you know turned me into a cat… and when I transformed for the first time back into a human and she brought up that exchange, I was desperate and had no feelings for you at the time…”

Letting out a shaky breath, he closed his eyes, picturing you on the other side, devastated and in tears when he took your heart and played with it just like he did with Jinri.

“I’m sorry.”

You scoff, laughing dryly at his apology, “Is that really all you can say? Do you really think I’d take you back after you totally used me?”

“It was only like that in the beginning,” he sighs, chest tightening, “That’s before I fell for you, I wasn’t lying when I said you were different from all the other women I’ve been with, please trust me when I say I love you, fuck I’ve never felt like this before… my heart feels like it’s about to explode around you, I feel like I’m in heaven with you, none of those women gave me that feeling, they were just stupid hook ups. I’m not going to stand here and lie saying I never played them, when I probably broke most of their hearts… But yours, I never wanted to break.”

“I know after all that mess back there, you can’t forgive me, but I’m so sorry and I love you, please know that.”

His eyes glaze over with tears, opening them slightly, through the blur of the tears he can fairly make out the disappearance of his shoes. Not just his shoes, he no longer had feet, his ankles already starting to disintegrate. His breath hitched, eyes widening before he desperately knocked on the door.

“Let me in (Y/n)! There’s not much time left, I need to see you just once more!”

Glancing down, he sucks in a sharp breath, up to his thighs already having already disappeared.

“Y-Yoongi… I don’t know I–”

“I’m disappearing!” he snaps, jiggling the doorknob furiously, the tips of his fingers beginning to fade away, “Open this damn door (Y/n)!”

You fling it open after much hesitation and can’t suppress the gasp that escapes you when Yoongi’s already faded from his waist down. Eyes widening, you gape at the absence of his lower body, flickering between his slowly disintegrating body to his sad eyes and guilt-ridden smile.

“Yoongi… what…?”

Relief washed over the desperation on his expression as he spread his arms apart. You immediately fell into his arms, his warmth slowly fading away just like his arms and torso.

“I’m so sorry (Y/n),” he whispered, “I never meant to hurt you, despite the bet, I truly wanted to be with you.”

You could no longer feel the weight of his hands around you, the constricting of his arms, they were gone and you quickly took this chance to press your lips against his, desperate for the remainder of his heat, his presence until it’s gone. He’s gone.

“I love you (Y/n).”

He’s gone and you’re left all alone in the doorway of your apartment, the strength in your legs fading away, just like how Yoongi’s body did, until your knees buckled and you sat on the floor sobbing.

The end, I’m kidding there’s one more left

Friday Heathen Game (Part 2)

Note: I coudn’t stop. I’ve literally slept at 4 am to keep writing and been doing it since I’ve woke. Continuation to the prompt game. And I just… have no idea, really. It just went this way and I have no idea if it makes sense or not, and I also couldn’t bring myself to finish the smutty part… Oh god, just… Sorry. hahahhaha.  

PS. This isn’t my first language. Sorry for any mistakes. 

They walked strangely trough the campus, Ivar refusing to let go of her hand all the way since they left the small exit path of the race track. (Y/N) had put a coat over her gym clothes, but her red eyes were clear to anyone who cared to look more closely. She believed that her red nose and swollen face were not discreet, and the thought that someone could see her that way while walking hand in hand with Ivar made her pull the collar of her coat up a little higher.

- Are you cold? - His question surprised her, though it was not stranger. Ivar was an observer and he paid attention to the small details, one of the things she appreciated in him. He noticed the small things, like a new outfit, haircut or even a new wrinkle of worry on her forehead. It was hard not to like someone who noticed you, was one of her first impressions. They walked in silence all the way, and she paid no attention to where they were going, just letting him take her. When they got to his car, he opened the door and waited for her to be seated inside the car before heading for the driver’s door. Something told her that he was still afraid she would run away at some point, ignore him again as she had been doing in the last weeks and then disappear, or something. The thought drew a small smile from her, for to imagine that he was worried that she would run from him was like one of those things that you find funny because it’s absurd, all the while wanting it to be true. He turned on the heater when he started the car, and they were silent for a while as the car purred and heated. Feeling suddenly sweaty and sticky, (Y/N) opened the coat she wore. The small noise of the zipper broke the concentration of the man at her side to the point where Ivar looked at her, his eyes so full of emotions she could not distinguish that for a second she had the urge to apologize - without knowing why. She almost felt herself uttering the words, her mouth parted with a small sigh, until he broke eye contact and started the march, using a little more force than usual, accelerating to the point where the wheels screamed as he began to drive. (Y/N) preferred to remain quiet, first because what the hell was she going to say? And second because, honestly, she never had a full idea of what Ivar was thinking, and this moment was no different. His expression had returned to that blank it had as he watched her run and the only thing that contained any hint of his feelings was his eyes, and at that moment she honestly did not feel ready to face them.

Then she sank into the passenger seat, feeling crushed by his presence in the small space, completely still until they got wherever they went.

Keep reading

So, the Flamingo Lounge was a gay bar. It’s not just the pink Flamingos or the fruity drinks with tacky umbrellas or the fact that the patrons were mostly male couples, but because it was coded as the complement to the Black Spur bar.

You see the picture of the woman on the wall at the Black Spur. Dean is pointing right the fuck at it, you see it.

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Now the walls of the Flamingo Lounge? Full of men. The pictures on the wall were all men.

Same kind of black and white pictures in old timey frames. Only men.

This joint was coded as a gay bar. It’s also a parallel for the Black Spur.

So I’m wondering is whether Dean did Harv the bartender too, like he did Ann Marie. Because did you see the way Harv didn’t just let Dean hang out, playing the piano in his joint after hours (this wasn’t a demon joint, Dean had been there before Crowley, Dean was still there when Crowley left him, and Crowley with his minions only started hanging out there because of Dean), Harv left his own fucking joint  to give him some privacy when Dean asked him to.

Why would he do that? Because Dean is such a good customer? No, man. Harv tapped that. Harv tapped that like Ann Marie tapped that, because these joints were clearly paralleled.

The line to blow Jerry & Serge starts behind me.