#a white man approaches a black woman for help and another white person butts in bc shes not 'capable'

[fireflythecinnamonjollyrancher]

Stuck my big ass nose where it didn't belong this morning trying to help bc someone asked someone else for directions and it looked like maybe there was some confusion but instead of asking if I could help I just butted in and got yelled at so now I'm biting back tears at the damn bus stop and I KNOW I'm about to get on the bus with this person who is (in a lot of ways rightfully) pissed at me and the worst part is I really was just trying to help and meant no harm but intent over impact yk. Anyway happy Tuesday I guess

[alvindraperzzz]

One thing I want to see explored more in both canon and fandom is Cassie’s relationship with Diana’s mission.

Cassie is a powerhouse. She’s a fighter. She’s aggressive, and loves kicking butt and taking down villains who deserve it. She’s been that way from her earliest appearances, and it never really changed, all the way through the end of preboot. That may be fine for most superhero characters, but it’s a constant that just doesn’t really make sense for a protege and disciple of Diana of Themyscira, who has a mission, ideals, and an approach to heroism that differs from most. I can’t think of a single plot line that explores Cassie’s relationship to Amazonian ideals, and how they (should) affect her work as a hero.

What are those ideals? What is Diana’s mission?

The specifics tend to change between eras, writers, and reboots, but Diana’s mission is to bring peace and justice to man’s world. That’s pretty vague, and broad, and Diana is canonically often distracted from it by crimefighting and superhuman threats (which, fair, hard to teach peace when some megalomaniac is tearing up a city).

“The superheroes of this planet and beyond… their mission is to avenge, to protect, to police. Mine is different. My mission is to teach, to learn, to serve. Hippolyta preached, as I and all Amazons believe, that with understanding and respect all things are bearable, believable, and possible.”

In its simplest explanation, Diana’s mission is one of peace and equality. She’s an ambassador, bringing Amazonian forms of diplomacy and social structure to man’s world, and creating reform through education, opportunity, and service.

“I am trained as a warrior, Barbara, but I am trained also to think of those skills as a last resort. There is no human conflict which cannot be served better with words than with the sword.”

Her greatest tools are not her lasso or gauntlets, but reason and compassion. Violent force is her last resort; while her use of violence varies by writer, that was a recurring trait for the best WW writers.

“We have a saying, my people. Don’t kill if you can wound, don’t wound if you can subdue, don’t subdue if you can pacify, and don’t raise your hand at all until you’ve first extended it.” —Wonder Woman, Vol. 3, No. 25

Diana may utilize violence when the situation calls for it, but her objective first and foremost is peace. Before violence, no matter what they do to her or what they’ve done in the past, she reaches out. She tries reaching people through conversation, treating enemies and ordinary people alike with kindness, respect, and empathy. Love without discrimination. Redemption and transformation over punishment. 

Cassie adores Diana. She believes in her, and shares many traits. She absolutely believes in helping people, and that protecting another is worth her life. But she’s also inclined toward holding grudges, and often has a very black and white perspective on good guys and bad guys. She has compassion in spades, but has a difficult time putting herself in other people’s shoes. She was always gung-ho for a fight, but after Donna’s death, and the string of losses that follow, she grows increasingly angry and unforgiving in both her heroic and personal life.

I want Cassie to argue with Diana’s nonviolent principles. I want her to struggle with understanding and incorporating this pacifistic view, when violence is so ingrained into her own view of superheroes.

I want her to grapple with Diana’s teachings, and be at war with herself because a bad guy might deserve punishment in her eyes, but that isn’t always the right path to justice.

I want Cassie to act as a diplomat.

I want her to talk villains down, instead of punch first, ask questions later.

In that Titans storyline where she visits Alcatraz and sees the terrible conditions there, I want her to say, “What the fuck is this?” And force a prison reform.

I want her joining Diana on outreach efforts, advocating as Diana does for education and equality, and acting as her liaison.

Just. Stories about Cassie dealing with the teachings of her mentor and the Amazons, whether it’s enacting those teachings or coming into conflict with them.

[muchadoaboutstartrek]

Here is something a bit more light to compensate for that awful angsty story i threw at you yesterday.

Una didn't make mistakes often... Well, she liked to think she didn't.

Getting shit faced the night before the exam and throwing up on one of her academy professors was one of them. Letting Chris be her wingman was another one. But leaving La'an unsupervised at the bar for 15 minutes took the cake and blew the rest of these out of the water. She watched from the safe distance as her friend drowned another shot of whiskey without even flinching, the alcohol she must've consumed by now undoubtedly numbing her to the point where she felt no burn.

She sighed. Taking care of plastered La'an was not part of her plan for tonight.

She was surprised when La'an accepted her invite to join her for drinks, as the younger woman usually preferred staying on board the ship and catching up with her reports. She even dressed up. Well, she exchanged her uniform shirt for a lower cut blouse that highlighted her body nicely and some black jeans, instead of her usual black pants. She even let her hair down. Granted, next to Una who wore a black fitting dress, she looked slightly underdressed but it was still a nice change of scenery from her usual look.

She spotted a man, probably drunk as a skunk, approach La'an from behind, his butt landing on Una's chair as La'an nursed (thank the stars above) another drink. She didn't even look at the man next to her, simply rising one of her eyebrows as the man laid out some of his 'best' pick up lines on her. Una shook her head and strode over to the bar. She really wasn't in a mood to break up a fist fight.

"Hey baby, don't be afraid if a big fat man puts you in a bag. I told Santa I want you for Christmas." His words were slurred together and she could see one of La'an's eye twitch which was a clear sign of her annoyance. The man was most definitely plastered because even those who had a single sober brain cell left would be able to tell La'an was one second away from kicking his teeth down his throat.

"The only person getting a bag tonight will be you mister. Now get out of my seat and get lost." The man turned as white as the sheet as Una used her best 'commander' voice as he hastily hurried away.

Una turned to La'an. "I leave you alone for few minutes and the guys are already throwing themselves at you." She took a seat and ordered a Cardasian Sunrise and motioned to the bartender to cut her companion off sooner rather than later.

La'an shrugged. "It's not like any of these drunk idiots can take a hint. I came here to relax, not to get bothered. And it was more like 20 minutes rather than just a few."

"That's not important. What IS important, however, is why you decided to join me? You're not exactly the one for bar hopping."

"I needed a change of pace. We've been coped up on the ship for too long."

Una nodded and thanked the bartender as he placed her drink of choice in front of her. "Well, if you say it, then it must be true."

Una felt a presence behind her, someone's hand at the back of her chair and a breath near her neck. She turned slowly, a sickly sweet smile plastered on her face.

"Can I help You?"

"I think you can baby. How about you and I ditch this place and go have some fun?" The man wasn't as drunk as she expected and she smirked as she recognized the stench of overly confident idiot reeking off of him. She dealt with cocky Ensigns on a daily basis, she could handle this bastard as well.

"No thank you." The man's eyebrow twitched, obviously not used to not getting his way. Cocky and spoiled. Nice. She shot a look towards La'an who tensed next to her, observing the man in her peripheral vision. "I'm not interested."

"Hey now." He leaned towards Una more, penetrating her personal bubble, his breath washing over her face and making the hairs at the back of her head stand up as the smell of beer hit her. Una scrunched up her eyebrows. "I don't like when girls say no to me."

"She said she's not interested." La'an's voice cut through, her tone as sharp as a razor blade and Una's pursuer recoiled slightly. "So take a walk."

The man plastered an obviously fake smile on his face. "Or what, little girl?"

Una winced. Taunting La'an is never a good idea unless one had a death wish. "Look pal." La'an slammed her drink down onto the counter. "Either you take a walk by yourself or you're gonna take that walk on crutches when they discharge you from orthopedics after I break all of your bones."

The man chuckled and released the back of Una's chair, slowly making his way over to La'an who turned to face him. He leaned over La'an's smaller form, obviously trying to intimidate her, clearly unaware of who he was actually dealing with. "Alright little girl. I see how it is. I mean," he gestured to himself with his hand, clearly thinking he's oh so irresistible, "If you wanted a piece of this, all you had to do was ask." He put both of his forearms against the bar, effectively caging her in and Una saw La'an's eyebrow twitch once again, her jaw tensing with the force she pressed her teeth together. Una slipped her hand into her purse, her fingers making contact with her communicator.

The man was still talking and La'an was getting more and more fed up by a second. "I'm pretty sure you and I can work something out-" His cocky remark was cut short as La'an slammed her head into his nose and he was sent flying several feet away from her before his feet tripped on a chair and he landed back first onto a wooden table. Una spotted several similar looking guys get up from behind one of the tables in the back as she hurriedly took out her communicator and dialed first number her finger pressed on without taking her eyes off of the men slowly approaching through the crowd.

She watched as La'an knocked the rest of her whiskey back, before cracking her knuckles and standing up from her chair. She swayed slightly on her feet but remained upright. Una reached down, one of her hands still holding her comm as the other untied the straps on her heels. She cursed her choice of footwear as she anxiously waited for someone to pick up. Just as she was about to hang up and rush to La'an, someone answered.

"Commander?" The voice was monotone and calm, and Una knew of only one person who could answer his personal comm that way.

"Spock!" She shouted over the music as her fingers finally undid her shoe. "I need your help! We are at this bar and shit is about to hit the fan!" She watched in mild horror as first of the men broke through the crowd and swung a fist towards La'an who was obviously expecting it, her body ducking and evading the punch all together, the gravity and man's weight working against him as his head rushed to meet the ground. "I don't have time to explain, just hurry up!" She finally undid the strap on her other shoe and flipped her communicator off before throwing a right hook at the guy La'an evaded just seconds ago. He hit the ground once again, this time staying there.

La'an, meanwhile was locked in a combat with a skinhead with tattoos all over his arms. He was buff and huge but La'an had strategy on her side and she dealt with him fairly easy. The people all around them screamed and struggled to stay clean of punches as Una grabbed the hand of another guy rushing at La'an with a chair of all things, the sudden movement combined with Una's strength enough to bring him down onto the ground, the chair falling next to him. Una spotted the last of two remaining guys heading their way, one of them for La'an while the other rushed towards her. She took notice of the creep La'an headbutted   raising from the floor, his eyes furious and locking onto La'an who was grabbed by her arms and lifted from the ground before she kicked her legs into the duchebag in front of her, sending him flying.

Una brought a discarded chair onto the head of the guy rushing at her, watching in self satisfaction as he crumbled to the ground with blood poring out of his forehead. That's going to be one massive headache in the morning.

She turned around just in time to watch as La'an knocked the guy who held her back unconscious before she was grabbed by her hair and yanked onto the floor, her hands instinctively going to her hair to stop him from ripping the strands out. Una saw red as the creep brought a heavy boot down near her head, La'an narrowly escaping it. She took three steps towards them, her hand reaching towards him, fully intent on throwing him across the room, but a hand clad in science blue was faster and she watched as it squeezed the back of man's neck, his form curling inwards to escape the pain, releasing La'an in the process.

She gasped in pain and rolled away from the man, looking up at Spock's face as he stared at the man who was still trying to escape his grip. "La'an, are you injured?"

She shook her head. "No. I'm alright."

Una watched as Spock nodded, his other hand reaching towards La'an and pulling her up gently, a stark contrast to the other hand that continued to squeeze the skin of man's neck, the skin turning almost purple. Una rushed towards La'an, her form swaying slightly, the adrenaline wearing off and alcohol taking effect.  La'an looked at her. "I'm fine. Really."

By now, the bar was deathly silent, people keeping quiet as they watched the show unfold, no one quite brave enough to let out a sound in fear of enraging an obviously already pissed off Vulcan.

"What is your name?" Spock's voice was eerily calm, the same calm one would associate with a calm before a jumpscare in horror movies. He squeezed the back of his neck harder when a man grunted and refused to answer. "I asked of your name. I apologize, but I find myself lacking patience tonight and I advise you to not make me ask again."

"Larry. Larry Smith." Larry puffed out, his face red from force of holding in his yelps of pain.

Spock nodded. "You are aware you physically assaulted Lt. La'an Noonien-Singh and Commander Una Chin-Riley of the USS Enterprise?"

Larry turned as white as a ghost. "What?"

"Nevertheless." Spock continued like Larry never spoke. "Their ranks notwithstanding, you have physically assaulted two women unprovoked."

"She hit me first!"

"I assume she hit you after you refused to retreat, despite her numerous warnings. Am I right? Furthermore, you deemed it appropriate to harass two women who did not desire you advances. That sort of behaviour is not something I am willing to 'turn a blind eye' as your species is fond of saying."

"C'mon buddy, let's talk about this, we can sort it out man."

"I am neither your 'buddy' nor do I have any desire to 'talk about this'  with you. If you so wish to talk to someone, then might I suggest police officers that are on their way to take you and your companions to a place more appropriate for you."

The sound of sirens caused Spock to look up and release the hold he held on Larry slightly, but just enough for him to break out of Spock's grasp and lunge towards La'an and Una standing few steps in front of him. La'an leaned back on instinct, in desire to avoid an attack while Una ducked onto the side, making him stumble before Spock once again took him by the scruff of his neck but this time, instead of simply detaining him, he tossed him halfway across the bar, his head coming into contact with a countertop, a sound of bone breaking echoing in a quiet room, before he slumped onto the ground, unconscious.

Spock straightened his blue uniform shirt and turned towards La'an and Una, completely ignoring the crowd gawking at him. "Lieutenant, Commander, I trust you are uninjured?"

Una nodded and La'an swayed slightly on her feet, holding onto the place where Larry grabbed her by the hair. Spock took a step towards her, his hand reaching out to cradle the back of her head. His hand came clean, no blood on it, and there was no lump there either, meaning the injury was nothing more than a slight strain from dragging her across the floor by hair. Una stared at them, his gaze alternating between Spock and La'an as they both ignored the looks they were getting from all across the room.

The moment was broken when a loud shuffle broke through the room, the police pushing their way through a sea of people. One of the officers nodded towards Spock, recognizing the insignia on his shirt, and lead his team of officers to detain mostly unconscious men. Spock took hold of La'an's elbow and nodded with his head towards the exit, Una following them on autopilot.

The cold air was a nice change of scenery from the humid heat in the bar, the oxygen sobering Una up almost immediately. Her eyes searched for the remaining two crew members, finding them standing few feet away with La'an leaning against the wall and Spock standing nearby, his hand holding her hair at the nape of her neck gently. Una approached them, her heels still in her hands and her fingers digging through her purse for a hairtie.

"Here." Sta handed the tie to Spock, standing at a safe distance. Mixing vomit and very delicate Orion silk wasn't exactly the best idea.

"You can come closer, I'm not throwing up." La'an's voice broke through, her hand still placed firmly onto the wall, supporting her. "I just need a moment."

"Are you certain you shall be able to hold the content of your stomach. The transporter can cause sudden bouts nausea."

La'an didn't even look at Spock as he gathered her hair and secured it with a hairband, her forehead resting at the wall. "I guess we'll have to find out, because I can't say this way."

Spock looked at Una who shrugged because there really was no telling with transporters and how one might affect a drunk individual. Spock reached into his pocket and picked up his comm. "Enterprise, three to beam up."

Golden light encased them and Una felt her molecules dispersing before they rearranged back together mere seconds later. Her gaze immediately turned to La'an who stood on the transport pad, her hair a mess and her eyes closed but thankfully, no vomit. She watched her as La'an reached blindly towards the person nearest to her, which happened to be Spock and grip onto his outstretched arm. Una raised her eyebrows. Since when were chief of science and chief of security so chummy.

She had no time to dwell on that as La'an took a step forward and nearly tripped over her own two feet. Spock reacted faster than she ever could and swung one of her hands over his shoulders while he supported her shaky form with his other arm on her waist. She watched as La'an leaned onto him, her unfocused eyes glaring at him. "If you ever tell anyone you had to drag my ass to the quarters because I was so drunk I couldn't walk... I am going to make your life a living hell."  She ran her eyes across the room, focusing on Kyle in particular. "You included, Mr. Kyle."

Apparently even completely drunk, La'an managed to instal fear of god into those who didn't come into contact with her often. Solely because those who did come into contact with her already got the same treatment. Una watched, amused, as chief Kyle swallowed and nodded vigorously and bussied himself with cleaning the impeccable control panel in front of him.

Spock shook his head and bent down to lift La'an more upright. It was a chuckle worthy sight as Spock had almost a foot over La'an on a good day and today was definitely not one of those. She shook her head as Spock and La'an made their way out, fortunate enough the ship was almost empty due to shore leave so the probability of them meeting someone was slim.

Una turned to Kyle who was still pretending to clean his console. "They're gone chief, you can relax."

Kyle breathed out a sigh of relief and wiped an imaginary sweat from his forhead. "She terrifies me... even when drunk."

Una nodded. "Say, chief. Have you noticed anything unusual with those two?" She gestured towards the hall where Spock and La'an disappeared.

"Oh, you don't know?"

"Know what?"

"There is a betting pool on them. Couple guys from security started a rumor about them few months ago... after the Gorn attack. It spread like wildfire and before anyone even knew what was happening, captain Pike was wedging in on a bet."

Una raisedher eyebrows. "What?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "He placed like 50 credits on the next month and by the looks of it, he's gonna win."

"50 credits?! Well how much are we actually talking about?"

Kyle shrugged. "Pretty sure we are in 500s now."

Una's eyes widened. "Holy shit." She started off into the distance, almost like she could see through the wall and an idea struck her. "Does anyone have money running on this month?"

Kyle nodded. "I do, sir."

Una smirked. "Say, chief, how would you like to get 250 credits richer?"

Kyle stopped what he was doing and looked at her. The look on her face was positively devious and Kyle almost shivered. He leaned closer and whispered. "What do you have in mind sir?"

Una smiled. This was going to be fun.

[buttterknifeee]

How long is forever? - Teen Titans x Aquagirl!Reader

Masterlist

Request: "Hello, May I request an episode insert in the Teen Titans episode 'How Long Is Forever?'"

Summary: Starfire takes a trip to the future... only to find out that you and the other Titans have disbanded. Will she find a way back to the present, or will you live an unfulfilling life forever?? (from S2 EP1)

Pairings: None

Word Count: 3919

A/N: Hey!!! sorry this took a while, it was super hard to write it due to most of it being in Starfire's POV. Most of the episodes in the series are centered around specific titans, so if you have an idea for an Aquagirl centered episode, feel free to send it in!!! (theres also a grand total of one cuss word in there)

Aquagirl’s Room - 2004

“Where is it? Where is it?” you mumble, tearing your room apart. You were looking for one of your CDs that you were in the mood for listening to. You threw your clothes into the air, looked under your bed, and even checked inside of your fish tank, holding the water containing a few tropical fish above you until you gave up. You sighed, finally checking the clock. You realized that you’ve been in your room for an hour and you haven’t even said hello to the other titans. You quickly change into your suit and head to the living room.

You stretched as you walked in. “Hey guys-” you stop in confusion at the scene in front of you. Starfire was standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, holding a bunch of necklaces and boxes and babbling something about “Blorthorg”, Beast Boy and Cyborg were brawling for a video game remote, Raven was reading silently and holding up a pair of nail clippers (?) telepathically, and Robin….

Anger bubbles up inside of you as you realize that he was in front of the stereo, blasting music. From your CD. You cross your arms as you march up to the Boy Wonder.

“Hey Rob, whatcha doing with my CD?” You say. “What, was Kelly Clarkson too quiet for you?”

Raven adds, “Yeah Robin, could the music be a little louder? I can still hear myself think.”

He glares at the two of you “I don’t listen- I only turned the music up to DROWN OUT ALL THE YELLING!!” He refers to the two boys. Cyborg now had Beast Boy in a headlock, holding the controller triumphantly.

“Whose turn is it now, tough guy? Whose turn is it now?” Cyborg taunts the green teen.

“Knock it off! I can't work with you two acting like idiots!” Robin yells.

“Work?? The only “work” I see you doing is stealing my stuff!” You snap.

“Great. More yelling will definitely stop the yelling.” Raven says, a sarcastic smirk on her face.

The three of you glared at each other, Cyborg and Beast Boy were still fighting, and one of Starfire’s necklaces broke, its beads tumbling onto the ground.

“STTTOOOOPPPPP!” the alien princess screamed. You stared at her in surprise. She took a deep breath and recomposed herself.

“ Friends must never behave this way, and especially not on Blorthog! Do you wish to invite the Rekmas?” she said.

“Gesundheit?” Beast Boy said, confused by her vocabulary.

“On my world, ‘Rekmas’ means ‘the Drifting.’” she explains. “The point at which close friends begin to drift apart, and their friendship begins to die.” She frowned. You immediately felt bad for all the yelling you did.

“Aw, come on, Starfire.” Cyborg comes to her side.

“We are so not Rek-whatever-ing.” Beast Boy reassures her.

“We're getting on each other's nerves a little. Big deal.” Raven says.

“Fighting’s just a part of life. As long as we resolve it, we’ll be fine.” You say.

“Yeah. This is just typical roommate stuff. We're not going to drift apart, Star. I promise. We'll all be friends forever.” Robin declares

“Forever?” Starfire asks. Before you could answer, Robin’s T-communicator beeped. The communicator was flashing red, and he turned to you and the others.

“Titans! Trouble!” he says. You all rush out of the Tower and into the city.

You find the “trouble” in the Jump City museum. It was a man wearing black and gold armor and a goatee: Warp. He was monologuing to a bunch of guards that he had frozen.

“I didn't journey back in time one hundred years to squabble, I came to steal.” You see him reaching for one of the clocks. “The Clock of Eternity. Valuable in the past, priceless in the future.” Robin steppeds forward, throwing his birdirang to knock Warp’s hand back.

“But for the present...you'll keep your filthy hands off it.” He says, announcing the Titans’ entrance. The man turns to the six of you.

"The Teen Titans. This is a treat. I read all about you in the historical archives. And now, you're all history!” He fires his laser at you all.

“Titans! Go!” Robin yells as you scramble to dodge his rays. He blocks Warp’s rays with his staff, but at the last shot the staff breaks, and he backed up. Starfire blasts her starbolts at him, but the bolts ricochet off of him and hits her, sending her to the ground. You and Beast Boy attack him now, a stream of water lifting you into the air by your feet. You put your hands in front of you and a jet of water blasts out of your hands, heading straight for Warp. He held his hand us as the water made contact with him, and froze the water. The ice traveled up the jet of water and onto your hands, encasing them in the long shard of ice. You fell, the weight of the ice dragging you down. You winced as you saw Beast Boy meet a similar fate, his animal form frozen in ice next to you. You struggled to free your hands as Cyborg and Raven both went down. Robin gives one last attempt to take Warp down, running towards him.

“You cannot defeat Warp. I am from the future.” He says, throwing disks towards Robin. He dove to the side as the projectiles exploded. “And your relics are one hundred years out of date." He grabs the clock and presses a blue lens from his armor. Suddenly, a blinding white portal forms in front of him. Your hands were still stuck so you had to squint.

“Ta-ta, Titans. I have enjoyed our time together, but I've got a very bright future ahead of me.” He sneers, stepping through the portal. You finally pull your hands out of the chunk of ice just in time to see Starfire slam into Warp, sending the two of them into the portal.

“Starfire!” Robin yells, trying to dive in after her, only for the portal to close and him to fall on the floor. You pull him up from the ground and look around. Starfire was gone.

Titan’s Tower-2024

Starfire couldn’t believe what was going on. After tackling Warp, she ripped off the lens on his suit and ended up in Jump City, 20 years into the future. She found Cyborg alone in the rotting Titans Tower, hooked up to a large battery. He explained that the day she left, the Titans fell apart, and disbanded soon after. He told her that the others can help her get back to the present, telling her where to find you, Beast Boy, and Raven.

She found herself at a circus whilst looking for Beast Boy. There in a cage, sat Beast Boy, changing into various animals. She approached the cage as he turned back into his human form. He was now a pudgy old man, with a great deal of hair loss. He looked at her with wide eyes through the bars.

“No way! It's you. But how?” he asked, peering at her with his wrinkled eyes.

“I require your help.” Starfire said.

“What kinda help?” Beast Boy asked.

“The future is not as it should be. We must find Warp. I will free you from this--” Beast Boy stopped Starfire from continuing her sentence.

“This cage isn't to keep me in! It's to keep those maniacs out!” he explained in a panicked tone, referring to a group of kids. “Look. After the Titans broke up, I tried the whole solo-hero thing. Got my butt kicked, a lot. So now, well…”

He turned into a chicken briefly to illustrate his point. “ Besides, I'm in the showbiz now.” Starfire could tell he wasn’t happy with where he was, but there was nothing she could do. She left Beast Boy and went to find Raven.

She found Raven in a room in a broken down building. She was standing in a pure white room, wearing a white cloak to match. Her back was facing Starfire when she arrived.

“Raven?” she squeaked, inching into the room. “Raven, it is Starfire, your friend”

“No such thing.” she groaned, her back still facing Starfire. Starfire’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Please, Raven I-”

“Just another figment. Don’t even look.”

“You must listen! I am here because-” she pleads, but Raven stops her.

“I’m never coming back! Go away!” she yells, Starfire backing up in fear. “It has to go away. Just like before. Just like all the others.” Starfire frowns in realization. She must not think I’m real; she thinks it's all in her head.

“Your mind.” she says softly, approaching the cloaked woman. “Without friends, you must have--” Starfire was about to touch Raven, but her familiar dark shield formed around her. She gasps, then eventually leaves the room in defeat. There was one last person she could try talking to. You.

She walked by the Jump City beach, the same place where you got your powers all those years ago. Suddenly, you rose out of the ocean, the water around you carrying you onto shore. Your face was stuck in a permanent glare, different to your constant smiles as a teen. You were taller, definitely had a few wrinkles, and you were wearing Atlantean clothing. Starfire flinched at your sudden arrival.

“Aquagirl! how-”

“I don’t go by Aquagirl anymore. I am Queen (y/n), ruler of Atlantis. And word gets around when one of your old teammates who had disappeared 20 years ago is roaming Jump City again, even at the bottom of the ocean.” You say coldly, eyeing her as she shrunk at the sight of you.

“What had happened to you, my friend?” she asked.

You sigh, recalling your memories. “After you disappeared and the team disbanded, I vowed to never be as soft and vulnerable as I was then. I moved to Atlantis, and was eventually appointed ruler.”

“Oh my, that sounds terrible!” Starfire exclaimed. “I need your help my friend-”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. It’s not terrible, I am quite fine just the way I am. And we were friends 20 years ago; things have changed.” You turn your back to her. “I must get going; there’s much I need to do.” Starfire stares at you in sadness as you walk back into the ocean, the water swallowing you up and the waves lapping like normal.

Starfire trudges through the snow-covered city, when a laser blast knocks her back. Her eyes raise to meet with Warp’s, his weapon aimed at her.

“What’s the matter, dear? Have I come at a bad time?” he snarls, opening fire once more. She dodges his shots and fires back, but the starbolts simply bounce off his modern armor. She tried to hit him close up but he held up his hand and ice formed around her midair. The large chunk of ice containing Starfire drops and shatters, leaving Starfire on the ground, shivering. She glares at Warp, who now has deeper wrinkles on his face.

“You have become so old,” she notes, still on the ground.

“That's what happens when someone steals my vortex regulator.” he says, holding out his hand. “The regulator, if you please. I really must get back to my future.” She stands up and takes the lens out from her belt. She couldn’t let him leave, especially when she’s stuck in a future like this. She held the disk next to her and warmed up a starbolt, as if to hold it hostage.

“If you ever wish to see your future you will repair the damage you have done to my past!” she yelled, anger bubbling up inside her. The villain laughed.

“Damage? Silly girl. There's nothing wrong with your past. One cannot damage history, because history cannot be changed.” He held up the clock and continued. “I went back in time to steal this because history says it disappeared. And history says it disappeared because I went back to steal it. Past, present, future. It's all written in stone, my dear.”

Starfire stood in disbelief dropping her glowing hand. No… this can't be the future we’re destined to live. Such terrible lives… she thought. Warp walked up to her shocked state and took the lens out of her hand.

“And nothing you do can ever change it.” he scoffed. Warp prepared to blast her when he was knocked into the alleyway by an unknown figure. Starfire snapped back into reality and looked around for you had knocked the villain back. A dark silhouette lept forward and threw Warp against the end wall of the alley. They threw disks at the villain, the area around him exploding. When the smoke cleared, Starfire could see that Warp had used a force field. He released his shield only to be met with the mysterious figure dropping down towards him. He stared straight at Starfire.

“Another time, perhaps.” he said. Before the shadowed person could reached him, he dropped into the ground. The person who had tried to fight him landed right where Warp had been, and as they straightened up, Starfire inched forward to see who it was.

“It’s good to see you again.” the person said. Starfire could recognize that voice from anywhere, and apparently, anytime.

“Robin?” she asked.

“I haven’t used that name in a long time.” he said, finally stepping out of the shadows. He looked nothing like the Boy Wonder she knew. His traffic-light esque uniform was replaced by a black suit with a blue bird on the front. He still wore a mask and he now had long, black hair.

“Call me… Nightwing.”

Starfire found herself in Robin’s (or Nightwing’s) base. She looked at a glass case of his old uniform, a feeling of melancholy washing over her. She was glad that he was ok, but the Robin she once knew was now nothing more than a mannequin display. Nightwing wrapped a blanket around her with a small smile.

Nightwing finally spoke. “So I’ve heard you’ve been looking for help.”

Starfire sighed. “There is nothing you can do. There is nothing anyone can do. The past cannot be repaired, the future cannot be altered, no matter how wrong it seems.”

“So it’s impossible.” Nightwing determined from her rant, walking towards a bunch of computers. “Good. If memory serves, we've done the impossible before.”

Nightwing’s words had surprised Starfire. None of the others had said anything as hopeful since she’d arrived here. A small fire of hope blossomed inside of her.

“I held on to this,” Nightwing says, pressing a button from a device. “...just in case.” Starfire’s eyes widened, realizing that it was a T-communicator. The communicator began to flash red, and to Starfire’s delight, so did her neck piece and wrist guard.

At the bottom of the ocean, you sat on a throne, talking to your advisers. As they left, your seashell necklace began to flash red. You looked at it in surprise, recognizing what it meant: it was an emergency signal that Robin had put in your necklace while you were still in a team. Even after 20 years, he had never used it until now. You began to get up from your throne when a group of your advisors came back, swarming you with scrolls and questions. You sat back down, a bitter feeling in your throat.

Beast Boy’s belt had flashed red whilst he was performing a trick in his animal form. He quickly jumped back into human form. He observed his belt for a moment before stepping back, hanging his head.

Cyborg's robotic eye flashed red as he sat alone in the Titans Tower. He immediately got up and started towards the door, only to be stopped by the wires keeping him alive and stuck inside the tower. He looks back at the power source.

Raven still stands alone in the room, her back facing the door. The brooch of her cloak flashes red, and without looking at it, she covers it with her hand.

Starfire and Nightwing venture to Jump City museum, where they find Warp, fixing his time travel suit. He wields the lens that he took from Starfire to his suit, whilst talking to himself.

“Tick-tock.” he laughs. “Just a few more seconds, and I shall finally--” his sentence was cut off by Nightwing knocking the tool out of his hand, revealing him and Starfire’s position.

“The future will have to wait.” Nightwing says, extending his staff. “You just ran out of time.”

Warp growls and fires laser beams at them, causing them to split up to avoid getting hit. Starfire shoots her starbolts at Warp again, despite them getting deflected by his force field. Nightwing however, jumped down on him again, using his staff to crush one of his lasers. He turns to face Nightwing, but Starfire lands a hit on his back with her starbolt. He tries to laser Starfire but has to dodge Nightwing’s staff attacks that barely strike him. He fights quickly and with fury, eventually knocking Warp flat on his back. The two heroes step close to him to inspect him. But Warp grins, and uses his second laser to blow a hole through the roof, snow and rubble falling onto Starfire.

“Star!” Nightwing yells, but Warp blasts him back with his laser. Warp runs over to the tool he dropped and started repairing his suit again as Nightwing helped Starfire up. Suddenly, he was blasted back by a familiar blue ray. Starfire and Nightwing turn to see Cyborg, his arm cannon smoking, but being able to function without any wires.

“Boo-yah” he says with a grimace.

“Cyborg!” Starfire exclaims, flying over to the half robot. “You are repaired!”

“Glad you could make it,” Nightwing says, joining them.

“Wouldn't have missed it. Now who said y'all could start without me?” Cyborg said as Warp stood back up.

“So sorry,” Warp said, holding up another device. “Perhaps I should finish you first!” Before he could use the device, he was attacked by a green lion, Beast Boy. Warp looked at the lens he was repairing, now crackling with electricity. In anger, he pointed a laser at him, but a jet of water shot up from the floor. You ran into view, a trident now in your hand.

“Heard you guys needed help!” you yell, a hint of a smile peeking out from your stoic face.

Before Warp could fall to the ground again, he is overtaken by magic, and thrown into the side of the wall. Raven materializes, still wearing a white cloak.

“Nobody hurts my friends,” she said, reminiscent of the first time you met her.

“Dude, that is so unfair,” Beast Boy whines, comparing his bald head to Nightwing’s flowing hair. The six Titans turn to see Warp, who has managed to create a wormhole, despite his suit being damaged.

“It seems my time has come,” Warp said, preparing to walk through the wormhole. Nightwing threw a birdarang at Warp, Warp throwing his own disk to intercept it. Starfire watched in awe as the birdirang sliced through Warp’s disk and hit him in the chest, right where the lens sat.

“Uh?! No! NOOOOO!” the six of you watched in horror as Warp regressed in age until he was nothing more than a screaming infant.

“Ok, I am not changing any diapers.” Beast Boy said, staring at the baby.

Cyborg looked at Starfire. “We gotta get you home. Come on!” he pointed at the wormhole, which was shrinking. He took the lens from the suit and put it in his arm cannon. He fired at the wormhole, making it bigger.

“Im redirecting the wormhole.” Cyborg said, turning to Starfire. “Starfire! Go!” She steps towards the portal and looks back at her friends. Their lives seemed so lonely and.. dissatisfying. Is this life they were destined to live?

“Please, must this really be our future?” She asked. The rest of you looked at her silently, sadness in your eyes. “Is there nothing I can do to change it?” Nightwing stepped up and looked directly into her eyes.

“I'm sorry, Star. There isn't time.” Nightwing said. He placed the clock that Warp had stolen in her hand and his other hand on her shoulder. He gives her one last smile before stepping back towards the other Titans, beckoning her to enter the portal. Starfire took a deep breath, and walked into the portal.

Jump City Museum - 2004

“Ta-ta, Titans. I have enjoyed our time together, but I've got a very bright future ahead of me.” He sneers, stepping through the portal. You finally pull your hands out of the chunk of ice just in time to see Starfire slam into Warp, sending the two of them into the portal.

“Starfire!” Robin yells, trying to dive in after her, only for the portal to close and him to fall on the floor. You pull him up from the ground and look around. Starfire was gone.

“Oh my god,” you whispered.

Beast Boy stared at the place the portal was. “Um, where did she-?”

Another portal opens with a brilliant flash between Beast Boy and Cyborg. Starfire falls out, curled around an item. You all rushed towards her.

“Dude!”

“Whoa!”

“Star! What happened?” Robin asked as the portal behind her closed.

“History said it disappeared.” Starfire said, straightening and revealing the clock warp had just stolen. “But history was wrong!”

The boys stared at her dumbstruck but you laughed, diving in for a hug.

You stood with the other titans as Starfire recounted her story. You covered your mouth in awe to find out what happened to you and the others in the future.

“Then Nightwing handed me the clock and I entered the vortex.” she finished.

“Woah,” Raven said, shocked by the recount of Starfire’s story.

“Bald?!” Beast Boy yells, grabbing at his hair. “You're telling me I'm going to be bald?!”

“Gosh, Star, all of our lives seem so terrible,” you say, thinking about what Starfire had said about you. You were a queen (which was cool), but you were also a cold hearted bitch (super uncool). You didn’t want that to happen, and more importantly for you to no longer be friends with the other Titans.

“Guess you were right about all that Rekmas stuff,” Cyborg said, slightly concerned.

“I don't want us to drift apart. Does it all have to happen? Isn't there anything we can-” Robin worries out loud, but Starfire stops him.

“Our friendship has already changed Warp's past. I believe it can also change our future.” Starfire says with a smile.

“Yeah I mean, the original reason we “broke up” was because of Starfire disappearing, and since she’s here now, we aren’t breaking up!” You chimed in, grinning at the other Titans.

Raven picks up the broken necklace with her telekinesis, stringing them back together.

“So… is it too late to do this festival-of-friendship thing?” she asks.

Starfire’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, it’s never too late!”

You all put on the bulbous necklaces Starfire brought in the morning.

“HAPPY BORTHOG!!!” Cyborg cheers.

“I thought it was Blort-Hog,” Beast Boy wondered.

“Okay, I feel like a wind-chime.” Raven groans.

“A very cool wind-chime,” you winked.

Starfire put the last necklace on Robin. He raises an eyebrow at her.

“So… Nightwing, huh?” he asked.

“Don’t even think about it bird brain,” you yelled from across the room, causing him to blush. You all burst out into laughter. The tower stayed cheerful the rest of the night.

[hanniiesuckle17]

All I Want For Christmas

A/n: so this started off as a blurb......then i got carried away.......so.......happy christmas everyoneeeee also HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO MY SECRET SANTA GIFT PARTNER !!!!!! (also this is not thoroughly edited I'm soso sorry )

For: @hansoulmin  HAPPY CHRISTMAS BABY!!! I was your secret santa! I hope you like it! 

Tag List: @ashisparanoid @mini-meanhoe @leggomylino @hanstagrams @desertofdessert​ @hoes4hoseok​ @yangomangos​ @jeonqqin​ @geminirules​ @crscendoforsung​ @mrsunshine999​ @jisungsjheekies​ @hannie-squirrel00​ @cotccotc​ @kodzu-ken​ @konenichi​ @yangs-jeongin​ @strykiss​ @skzwriternet​

Warnings: cussing, lots of sexual tension maybe...idk

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: Minho and Y/n have never gotten along for reasons unknown to anyone. After circumstances arose, Y/n is stuck with Minho driving him up to the cabin the boys rented. It seems that things go terribly wrong at every turn as Y/n is kept from her long desired Christmas vacation. Will she be able to change Minho’s mind about Christmas....and possibly his view on her? 

Genre: Christmas au, enemies to lovers au, fluff, romance, slice of life au, forced to share bed trope, Fem reader

❅

Out of all people, the universe seemed to only choose you to throw misfortune on. You were nice. Some might even call you kind and selfless! You were by all means a good person! So why? Why out of all the eight other people going on this vacation did you have to stay behind a day and drive Satan’s spawn up to the cabin?

Lee Minho was a grown man of twenty two years. He should be able to drive himself! Also what was his deal? The rest of the boys had cleared their schedule for a week and a half of Christmas vacation.What was so important he had to delay your winter getaway as well?

The frigid winter wind bit at your skin, latching onto the soon disappearing warmth. You rolled your eyes watching the coat clad form of Minho come down the stairs of the entertainment building at a painstakingly slow pace. You had no clue why, but ever since you met, Minho had been nothing but cross and hateful towards you, and it seemed like he had no intention of changing. 

“Y/n.” Minho said coldy, tossing his duffel bag into my arms. 

“Satan.”

‘Clever.”

Deciding to be the bigger person, you securely placed his bag along with yours in the trunk and walked over the the driver’s side. The door slammed shut as Minho sunk into the passenger seat. “This is going to be a long ride,” you mumbled. 

An hour into journey and your prediction was already coming true. The two of you sat in awkward uncomfortable silence. Minho stared out the window seemingly unphased by the unwieldy tension. “Should I turn on some music?” You asked, reaching for the radio.

“No. It will just make things uncomfortable.”

You scoffed, retracting your hand. “I don’t see how it can get more uncomfortable than this.” Minho rolled his eyes turning to look at you. 

“It will be annoying for me when you start singing along to the radio and I have to tell you how utterly shit your voice is.” There was no hiding the scowl on your face. Your grip tightened on the steering wheel. Only five and half more hours with this asshole. 

You sighed, glancing over at the man in your car. He was messing around on his phone, completely ignoring you. It was like the conversation you had only a few seconds ago had never happened. “Look. I know you hate me and you definitely aren’t my favorite person either.” No response came from Minho. He simply rolled his eyes. “What was so important that you had to delay my Christmas vacation? Don’t you like Christmas? What possibly would be worth setting back such an amazing holiday?”

Hearing no response you looked over at Minho in question. He was looking out the window with a rather pointed scowl. “Not everyone loves Christmas.”

“What? Everyone loves Christmas! Christmas is the best time of the year!”

“Well, not me. I don’t like Christmas.”

“WHAT?!”

You turned to him eyes wide. “Hey! Eyes on the road!” Minho grabbed the steering wheel and jerked the car back into the right lane. “What’s so wrong about not liking Christmas?” Light snow flurries began to fall on the windshield. “Christmas is just another stupid holiday. There’s nothing special about it. Plus it’s cold.”

“Maybe you really are satan....” You mumbled under your breath. 

“What was that?”

“Nothing.....I just can’t believe you hate Christmas...”

❅

Two painful hours later you were driving your impossible passenger down a long stretch of snow filled road. The windshield wipers screeched as they pushed snow off the glass. The storm had really picked up as you drove further out of the city. The roads were icy and you did your best to keep your old run down car from drifting. 

“How much longer?” Minho sighed, resting his head on the cool glass. 

“Quite a bit-” BANG!

Suddenly, it was much harder to control your car. You felt a rumble in the back wheels. Minho shot up in his seat. “Wait- what the fuck is going on?” Easing your foot off the gas, you pulled over onto the side of the empty road. 

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no!” Hitting your steering wheel, you tried to hold back your frustration. Tears pricked at your eyes, begging to spill over. There was no way you were going to cry in front of Lee Minho. Couldn’t one thing go your way this year? As if this wasn’t bad enough, a loud bang came from your engine and smoke started spilling from the hood. “Fuck...” 

Defeated, you let your head fall onto the wheel. A long continuous blast came from the car horn. Minho grimaced, covering his ears. “Can you like....stop?” You turned to look at him. Feeling even more dejected under his gaze you lifted your head, ceasing the blaring noise. 

Taking a moment to gather your emotions, you blew out a shaky breath. “Just....stay in the car, I guess. Not like you’re gonna help anyway.”

Jerking open the car door, you stepped out onto the snowy road. Deciding to look at the hopefully less damaged part of your car, you wrapped your coat further around your body and walked to the back of your car. Just like you thought, the rear left tire was completely blown out. 

“I knew my car was shit, but I thought it was going to last at least another two years.”

Now it was time to face the music, or rather the smoke. Snow falling at a fast pace, you shuffled through the cold and around to the front of your car. Raising the hood more smoke rose into the winter air. Looking around you saw it was getting darker. You had told Chan you and Minho would be at the cabin the boys rented by dinner time. It was already six o’clock.

A quick glance under the hood was enough to tell that this car was going no where. Brain trying to solve the prediciment you somehow ended up in, you crouched down and attempted to come up with a way out of the situation. So deep in thought, you didn’t even hear the sound of the passenger door opening and closing. 

“I’m assuming you can’t fix this.”

Looking up you saw Minho standing over you. His hands were stuffed into his coat pockets and white snow flurries floated onto Minho’s dark brown hair. “Do you just assume I’m useless at everything?” Minho rolled his eyes. The man turned around and opened the trunk. He returned with your bag as well as his. 

“Come on.” Not even casting a glance your way, Minho tossed your bag at your kneeling figure. The momentum sent you falling onto your butt, the wet cold snow immediately seeping through the one warm layer you were wearing. 

“Where the fuck are you going?”

“There’s a hotel a couple miles away.” Minho said holding up his phone. 

Pushing yourself off the ground you grabbed the bag and hurried to catch up with the sulky hateful man who was already walking further into the snowfall. “Are you serious?” You questioned, trying not to slip on ice. “Hey- Minho! What the fuck, dude?” 

“Come on, idiot. Keep up.”

“Minho! Wait up!”

❅

The sky was almost pitch black by the time the two of you made it to the hotel. Whether it was from the snow clouds or time you weren’t sure. Minho had not bothered to wait for you. He was already through the sliding doors of the building before you had reached the hotel’s driveway. “Selfish jerk.” You mumbled, dragging your bag through the rising snow. 

You did your best not collapse as you were embraced by the warm heating in the hotel lobby. Minho was brushing the show from his hair as he confidently approached the front desk. The clerk greeted him with a friendly smile. 

“Hi. We need two rooms please.”

Her smile faltered a little bit. “I’m so sorry, sir.” She wrung her hands together, keeping that hospitality smile on her face. “With the snowstorm, almost every room is booked.” Minho sighed, casting an annoyed glare your way. 

“Are you sure?” 

After catching your breath, you joined the singer at the desk. The lady typed away on her computer. Looking over, you could see red boxes by all the rooms she scrolled through. “I’m so sorry, sir. But all but one of our rooms is booked.”

“We’ll take it.” You jumped in, eager to have any relief from the storm outside. 

She smiled and Minho grumbled something under his breath. “Okay then. Here is the key to our Honeymoon Suite. It’s on the fourth floor at the end of the hall.” There was no stopping the blush flooding your cheeks.

“H-honeymoon suite....?”

“Yes. It’s our last room.” 

Minho snatched the key card from the woman’s hands. “You’ve already said we’ll take it. Stop blubbering and get your stuff.” Grabbing his duffel, Minho began walking towards the elevator with no intention of waiting for you. 

The concierge looked at you with pity. “You’re boyfriend isn’t the nicest...is he?” 

With a scoff you replied, “Believe me, Minho is not my boyfriend.”

Rushing through the lobby, you squeezed through the elevator doors just as they were closing. Minho remained silent as you both rode up to the fourth floor. Your wet feet against the plush carpet was the only sound to be heard as you walked to the end of the hall. 

Before he could slide the keycard, Minho scowled at the heart engraved on the door. The happy beep and green light prompted him to push into the room. His scowl deepened as he flicked on the lights. 

Even with the lights turned on, the room was cast in a warm dim glow. There was only one bed, shaped like a huge heart with rose petals strewn across the duvet. Your eyes widened seeing a tall metal poll in one corner of the room, red light shining down on it. Subsequently a similar color grew on your cheeks. The whole room was lavishly decorated and had several interesting adult objects lying about.

“This is.....”

“What? You can’t handle a little atmosphere, Y/n?” Minho taunted with a smirk. He tossed his bag onto a chair, seeming to enjoy your embarrassed state. 

You sat on the bed only to jump up and scream feeling it move beneath you. “It vibrates?! What the fuck! Who makes a bed that vibrates?!” Minho chuckled, possibly the first time you had ever seen him give anything remotely close to a genuine smile. 

“Not kinky are you, Y/n?” 

You froze. Your hands gripped tightly onto your bag and you pulled it higher to cover your chest in embarrassment. “Regardless, there is no way I’m sleeping on that thing.” He shrugged and flopped onto the bed, rose petals flying into the air. He looked rather comfortable, completely unphased by his surroundings. 

“Suit yourself.”

Cautiously, you sat on the plush couch holding your bag like a teddy bear. This was certainly not how you imagined your Christmas. You were so looking forward to spending Christmas with your friends. Decorating the tree. Sitting by the fire in the rented cabin. Eggnog with slightly too much rum. Giving gifts you spent way too much of your paycheck on. Now you were stuck in some hotel sex dungeon with the devil spawn. What a Happy Christmas it was turning out to be. 

❅

After getting used to the room, you showered and changed clothes to leave Minho to do the same. While he cleaned up, you phoned a nearby auto-shop and asked them to tow your car in and fix it. Finally able to resolve the stressful phone call, you let your head fall into your hands. Minho exited the bathroom rubbing his hair with a towel. 

Just as you were about to tell him the only slightly good news, the lights shut off. Both of you looked around in confusion. “Minho, did you do this? Is this some kind of prank? Cause, I’m not afraid of the dark.” He shook his head and grabbed his phone from off the dresser, using it as a flashlight. 

It was then you noticed that the room was getting colder by the second. Rubbing your arms, you shuffled over to your bag and grabbed a cardigan. A knock sounded at the door. Sighing, Minho answered it.

“Ah- Mr. Lee! We are so sorry about the inconvenience. It seems the powerlines have frozen over and the hotel has lost all electricity.” A man wearing a bellhop uniform said. Hearing the news, you came to stand next to him. “We are doing our best to get our generator up and running. It seems our heating system is also down.”

“How do you expect us to stay like this?” Minho asked with a cold stare. The man shrunk under his gaze. 

Slapping Minho’s shoulder you pushed him aside. “Stop being a grinch. Thank you so much for letting us know.” The man nodded and pulled a blanket from a nearby cart. You flinched awak from his cold hands as he passed it to you. The poor thing. He must be freezing walking around the halls in his uniform. 

“Here. This extra blanket will help. The hotel will also discount your stay.”

“No, take the blanket. We’ll be fine. You need it more than us. Thank you for doing such hard work!” The man smiled and thanked you profusely before you closed the door. Turning, you found Minho looking at you strangely. “What?”

He looked you up and down before scoffing and turning away. “You’re just so nice to everybody. You’re so gullible.” 

“Gullible?” You couldn’t believe him. “I’m not gullible. It’s called being nice. Have a little Christmas spirit will you.”

He rolled his eyes, dragging a hand through his damp hair. “I already told you. Keep all that Christmas bullshit to yourself. It’s all just an excuse for the tinsel and ornament industry to make money off losers like you.” 

There was no convincing him otherwise, so you simply watched as he pushed back the covers of the bed and climbed in. “Fine. Be a grinch or a Scrooge or a Hans Gruber for all I care.”

“Hans Gruber?” Minho questioned, head popping up in the dark. 

“Die Hard is a Christmas movie too, okay?”

You were shocked to hear a chuckle come from the big heart shaped bed. Sure, you must be imagining things, you took down a rather thin blanket from the closet and headed to your spot on the couch. Your barefeet flinched at every step on the cold hardwood floor. Curling up into a ball on the sofa, helped your body temperature rise a little bit, but you still froze with the tiny blanket you used. Eventually, you fell into a cold restless sleep. 

❅

You awoke to some shuffling in the room. Assuming Minho was getting up to get a glass of water or something you tried to go back to sleep. But, you were puzzled as you heard his footsteps come closer to the sofa. Unsure what he was doing, you pretended to be asleep, wrapping the blanket more around your shivering body. 

“I’m only doing this cause I can’t sleep with all that teeth chattering,” Minho whispered under his breath. “It’s not like I care...” 

Suddenly you felt his long fingers gently reach out for your ankle. Still pretending to be asleep you resisted the urge to flinch away. Brows furrowed and eyes still closed, you tried to figure out what he was doing. Minho tenderly pulled what you imagined to be a pair of his socks over your cold bare feet. Your breath hitched as his soft hands brushed over your skin. He was....being kind? 

Hearing movement, you shut your eyes tighter as Minho pushed himself off the ground. “That should be fine.....” He whispered. You waited, but didn’t hear him walk away. “Why am I even bothering...” Again it seemed like he stayed. After another moment of silence he shifted. 

Surprisingly, you felt his hands reach under your legs and behind your back. He lifted you into the air and pulled you into his chest, carrying you as if you were the most fragile thing he had ever touched. Minho moved across the room before gently placing you on the bed. The covers were pulled up to your chin and you felt him tuck in the fabric around your body. You were shocked to say the least. 

Surprising you further, Minho climbed into bed next to you. His arm cautiously wrapped around your stomach and pulled you flush against his warm chest. You were feeling very conflicted for many reasons. Deciding to test just what was going on, you turned around, eyes still closed, and hugged onto him tighter. You buried your face into his chest. He froze obviously contemplating what to do. 

Hesitantly, like his body was stuttering, he let his arms fall around you in an embrace. You found yourself....content. His scent was comforting. He smelled like amber and some sort of spice you couldn’t quite name. Just as you were about to fall asleep, Minho sighed and let his fingers tenderly stroke your hair.

“This doesn’t mean I like you....” He whispered. There was something in his voice that made you not believe his words. You didn’t have time to think about them, because you were soon lulled into a deep sleep. 

❅

The next morning you woke up to soft white light streaming through the hotel curtains. Minho was still asleep next to you, fingers still tangled in your hair. The room around you was cold, but your body was nothing but warm in Minho’s arms. You smiled remembering Minho’s kind action last night. Not knowing how he would react you decided it might be best if you weren’t in the room when he woke up. 

Each time you moved, you were sure the man was bound to wake up. Finally you swung your legs over the side of the bed. You smiled, looking down and seeing his gray warm socks on your feet. Your eyes widened as realization passed through your mind. 

Did you like Minho?

Looking over at Minho’s sleeping face, you felt your hears start to beat faster. Grasping at your chest, you tried to still your literally beating heart. This was not a problem for now. Minho could wake up any second and you didn’t really want to confront these possible feelings with him awake. 

Sliding into a pair of the hotel slippers, you shuffled to the door, rubbing your arms to keep warm. Slipping the keycard into your cardigan pocket, you closed the door quietly so as not to wake up the sleeping singer just yet. 

“Oh- I am so sorry!” Someone said, bumping into you. 

“It’s fin-...Hey, I know you!” You turned to find the bellhop from the night before. “Has your shift not ended yet?” 

He shook his head, shoving his hands in his pockets. “The roads are icy, plus they have everyone staying because of the power situation.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. He seriously was a hard worker. “By the way, we got our back up generator working, but there seems to be something still wrong with the heater.” 

“Don’t worry about it! Minho and I were fine last night so I’m sure the other guests were as well.”

He chuckled. “You’re really nice. You’re like walking Christmas spirit.” You smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “Oh- the kitchen staff managed to scrap together our usual breakfast service downstairs. You should go check it out. It was nice talking to you, Mrs. Lee! Merry Christmas!”

“Oh- I’m not...” But it was too late. The bellhop was already swiftly moving down the hall. 

Deciding to move past the conversation, you headed downstairs to the breakfast buffet. The lobby was full of Christmas decorations; something you had missed last night in your urgent desire to get a room. It made you smile. A reminder that Christmas Eve was tomorrow. 

Following the delectable odor of breakfast food, you wandered into the buffet area and built two plates for you and Minho. Balancing the full platters of food like a professional circus performer, you journeyed back up to the room. By some feat, you opened the door and entered the still freezing room.

Minho sat up in bed, still looking half asleep. “I...I- uh... I brought breakfast. I wasn’t sure what you liked so-”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll eat anything warm right now.” 

Wearing a nervous smile, you sat down on the bed across from Minho and handed him a plate. The two of you ate in semi awkward silence, this time for a very different reason. “So-”

“About last night...” Minho started, rubbing the back of his neck. “I-...I-...you're teeth were chattering pretty loud and-”

You smiled, stopping his train of thought. You could practically see every word he had planned to say leave his brain. “You don’t have to say anything. Thank you, Minho.” The boy nodded, hair falling into his eyes as he looked down at the plate of food.

Another silence followed only slightly less awkward. “If you don’t mind me asking,” Minho’s head raised at your voice. “Why do you hate Christmas so much?” He sighed, shoving a sausage in his mouth and chewing on the savory food. 

“I just never really got the whole Christmas thing. My family never celebrated. Every time we try to get together for the holidays everything just seems to go wrong. Just like how things are going now.” He scoffed picking up another sausage.

“Okay...I can respect that. But...you’re hatred of Christmas seems to be more than that.”

Minho rolled his eyes. Contradicting his actions, he reached over and placed a piece of his toast on your plate. “It’s just....I don’t get it. Like, explain to me what is so great about Christmas.”

You set your plate down with a grin and ate the piece of toast Minho gave you. “I don’t know. I just get this warm feeling around Christmas time. I love seeing all the love that people share. There is just something about Christmas that brings people together. It’s beautiful everywhere and everything is just bright and happy.”

Minho smiled watching you talk. You rambled about all the things you loved about Christmas, from making snowmen to decorating the tree, to watching people unwrap their gifts. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something about the way you spoke that made his stomach twist in knots. 

At some point you stopped talking and noticed the dazed look on his face. “Did you even listen to me?” You looked down at your lap, slightly disappointed. Not liking the frown on your face Minho quickly nodded his head.

“Yeah, of course.” 

Before he could remedy the tension he accidentally created, your phone rang pulling away your attention. Minho watched you get off the bed and walk away to answer the phone. Your back turned, he started beating himself up about not paying full attention to what you were saying. 

“So, Minho,” You said turning to face him. “That was the auto shop. They said we should be able to pick up the car tomorrow afternoon. Thankfully we’ll be able to see the boys on Christmas Eve!” 

Minho smiled, watching your face light up at the good news. “That’s great.”

❅

After two nights in a hotel, you were finally pulling into the driveway of the rented cabin. It was gorgeous! The huge vaulted roof was covered in snow and the warm wood stood out against the blanketed white backdrop. “Minho,” You said slapping his arm to get his attention as you parked the car. “Look how pretty this is!”

He looked up from his phone, first looking at your bewildered grin, then the lodge in front of you. “Yeah,” You stared in wonder at the place you would be staying for the next week. “Really beautiful.” Turning you found Minho already looking back at you. For some reason, just the way he was looking at you had your stomach doing somersaults.

Pushing your hair behind your ear, you attempted to calm the heat on your cheeks. Both you and Minho awkwardly laughed and looked away from each other. Pressing your hands to your cheeks, you tried to pat away the blush like an idiot. 

“THEY’RE HERE!”

Suddenly, seven rambunctious boys stampeded out of the house and came bounding through the snow to your now fixed car. They pounded happily on the windows and had you not known them, the event would be absolutely terrifying. “Guys, let us out of the car!” Minho shouted with half a laugh. 

Eventually, you were dragged into the cabin by the idols and hugged until your faces turned blue. The inside was even more beautiful than the outside. Everything was made out of wood and there was practically a wall of huge windows overlooking the snow covered forest. 

“What took you guys so long?” Jisung asked hanging off your arm. 

You sighed, ruffling his fluffy hair. Minho watched with a pointed stare. “Well, my piece of junk car broke down and so Minho and I were stuck in a freezing hotel honeymoon suite. but, now we’re here and I cannot wait to start our Christmas vacation!”

“Woah, woah, woah, woah. Back up. Honeymoon suite?” Chan asked with raise brows, looking between Minho and you. The look stopped when Minho made a slice motion across his neck. “Well....um...guys I hate to break it to you, but there's only like 5 rooms and the rest of us have already paired off.”

The band collectively ‘oo-ed’ and started jokingly shoving Minho around. “Think you lovebirds can survive without biting off each other’s heads?” Jisung said jokingly. Obviously he was kidding, but you were blushing more in the last hour than probably ever in your life. 

Thankfully, Chan noticed your embarrassed state and ushered everyone away to let the two of you settle in. Christmas Eve with the rest of Stray Kids was quite possibly one of the greatest nights of your life. By the time everyone retired for the evening, it was almost midnight. Your room was smaller than the hotel suite but shared the commonality of having....one bed. 

While Minho was in the shower, you snuck downstairs to get a better look at the tree Hyunjin, Chan, and Jeongin had put up the other day. The lights twinkled on the real tree that was standing tall in the living room. A fire was raging in the fireplace. The glow of the flames reflected in the red, gold, white, and green ornaments. 

The tree reminded you of the one your parents used to put up when you were little. Feeling the urge to act childish you crawled on your hands and knees until you could lay down under the tree and look up into the lit branches. Resting your hands on your stomach, you smiled looking up at the shiny glass orbs. 

“Y/n?” Minho called out into the wide expanse that was more than an excuse for a living room. “You in here?” Turning your head, you watched his sock feet come down the stairs two at a time. 

“By the tree,”  Through the branches you watched him approach the large Christmas tree. 

Minho chuckled and kicked your leg lightly. “Whatcha doin’ down there, idiot? you look like the Wicked Witch of the East!” He soon regretted the comment as a swift kick was directed at his unprotected calf.  “Ow!” He exclaimed, rubbing his leg. “But, really, what are you doing down there?” 

“You never did this as a kid?” He shook his head. The strong smelling fronds obstructed most of his face from your view, but you could make out the glint of his round spectacles in the firelight. “Come here!” 

Letting out a sigh with an intention you couldn’t decipher, Minho got on all fours before crawling to lay next to you under the Christmas tree. His shoulder brushed up against yours, making your skin tingle. “What’s the point of this?” He whispered after a few moments of staring at the lights. 

Shrugging, you answered, “I don’t know. When I was little, my parents fought a lot. I used to walk down in the living room and lay under the tree. Sometimes I would pretend all the little lights were stars and I would wish for a Christmas miracle hoping maybe that this year they would stop fighting. Or at least fight a little less.” As you spoke, you watched the ornaments and colorful Christmas lights sparkle and twinkle. “Some years it worked. I really did get a Christmas miracle.”

“I think you were the Christmas miracle.” Minho said turning to look at you.

“I doubt that.”

“Well...you’ve made me not...not like...Christmas. I’d say that’s miracle quality.”

You laughed, reaching for his hand on instinct. His eyes widened, but the boy let you grasp onto his fingers. “Minho, you really aren’t so bad. I feel like maybe I just didn’t take the time to get to know you.” Minho grinned. You felt like it may have been the lights, but a rosy dust filled his cheeks. 

“Yeah, well....like I said. You’re my Christmas miracle.”

You were at a loss for words. Minho shifted his fingers to interlock with yours. “Can- can I kiss you?” He asked with baited breath and furrowed brows, eyes trained on your lips. If you weren’t sure of his feelings, you knew now. Fearing your voice would betray you with any attempt to speak, you nodded and looked through the glass lenses into his deep brown eyes. They were softer than you had once thought. 

Slowly leaning over Minho pressed his lips against yours. That warm feeling returned to your stomach and slowly traveled until you’re whole body felt like it was glowing. Minho kissed you under the twinkling colorful lights of the tree, earasing every other bad thought or thing he had ever said to you before. He pulled away as the grandfather clock in the hall struck twelve. 

“Merry Christmas, Minho.” You whispered, his lips still inches away from yours. 

“Merry Christmas, Y/n.”

❅

“GOOD MORNING CHRISTMAS LOVEBIRDS!” Hyunjin screamed, bursting into the room you and Minho shared. He shrieked seeing the two of you, legs tangled together under the sheets. With sleepy eyes, Minho sat up and tossed the pillow you were using at the blonde’s head. 

“Minho! That was my pillow!” Groaning, he just laid back down and pulled you into his chest, letting you use his arm as a headrest. 

Chan pulled Hyunjin from the floor shaking his head at the drama queen. “In all serious, guys, Jisung, Felix, and Jeongin are very eager to start opening presents so get your butts downstairs.” Minho raised his arm to shoo his leader away. The door closed returning you to your original state of privacy. 

Minho kissed your forehead, snuggling back under the warm duvet with you. “You know this is the first Christmas morning I’ve been excited to wake up. This time I’m just excited to see you though.” 

“Never would have pegged you for the cheesy type, Lee Minho.”

He chuckled, leaning down and capturing your lips in a kiss. You were unable to keep the smile from creeping up your face. “We should get down stairs. The boys will be missing us.” 

“Fiiiiine.” He grumbled, pushing himself off the bed. Slowly, your body still waking up, you swung your legs over the side. Before your barefeet could touch the ground, Minho’s hand once again wrapped gently around your ankle. He smiled up at you, kindness in his dark brown eyes. Tenderly, his long fingers slid a warm pair of his socks over your feet. “My Christmas miracle can’t have cold feet, can she?”

Smirking at your blush, Minho took your hand and led you out of the cabin bedroom. You joined the rest of the boys around the tree, Jisung already tearing open a gift and Seungmin passing out presents. Minho found the last empty spot on the couch and pulled you into his lap. 

“You too seem pretty cozy,” Changbin stated, with a knowing look on his face. 

Completley oblivious to the conversation, Jisung chimed in. “So, Minho, did you finally figure out what you want for Christmas? Shopping for you was so hard!” Jisung groaned, holding his new gifted plushie in his arms. 

“I gues all I want for Christmas this year is Y/n.” Minho said with a smile. He leaned over and kissed your cheek, not afraid of any of the boys making fun of him apparently. 

“SO I SHOULD JUST RETURN THE $475 JACKET I BOUGHT YOU HUH?”

❅

Masterlist

[foodieforthoughts]

I Would Do It Again - One

Summary: Anya Adams, a troubled soul but fierce on the outside, stumbles over a stranger at a party and ends up sharing more than just her name. She’s in for a whirlwind encounter when he turns out to be her boss. Striking up a deal for pleasure, Anya soon finds herself mixing work and play. For someone who swore off love, would she let the handsome Brit break down her walls?

Pairing: AU Henry Cavill x OFC

Words: 1.8k

Warnings: 18+, smut, romance, minor age gap, fluff

A/N: This has been sitting in my Docs for too long. I was worried about sharing it, and I already have two ongoing series, but I am sharing this now since it’s already complete! I hope you guys enjoy it. It’s my first time writing an AU series and it’s not beta-ed. 

Divider by @firefly-graphics

| One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve |

Title: One

I felt the thumping of the beats course through my body as the DJ brought on a high tempo song. I tapped my foot with the music. In my mind, I was having the time of my life. It was smack dab in the middle of summer in New York and the temperatures were soaring high. A co-worker had invited me for a big summer rooftop party on a posh SoHo hotel. She had noticed how I was having a difficult time at work with my boss being a prick and I deserved a much-needed break.

So I had donned my most sexy outfit, a sheer black halter neck bodysuit dress with a neckline so deep it left little to no imagination and thigh high slits on both sides, slipped on my strappy heels and headed out to enjoy drinks and maybe get raunchy with someone to release tension.

The plan to meet someone interesting was looking far-fetched as I was stuck here listening to the guy standing next to me who was talking about how big his company was. I was only half listening to him, not even bothering to nod along. I believed that if he had to say it out loud, maybe he was overexaggerating. So instead I looked across the expanse of the floor to maybe spot someone remotely exciting.

I did not want to sound extra, but when my eyes set on him my mind went ‘Hot damn!’.

Standing across from me on the other side of the pool was this handsome hunk leaning against the glass fences. He looked like the epitome of masculinity with his biceps flexing under the crisp white shirt every time he moved his arm to lift the glass of liquor up to his lips.

“-can take you up to my penthouse in Tribeca-” the unattractive and equally inappropriate man came up close to me. His breath had the stink of cigarettes and whiskey in a combination that made me gag.

I scrunched up my face as he moved into my personal space. I could not care less about my politeness. I shoved him away from me and walked away. More precisely I walked to the other side where I had spotted the man. I stood bracing my arms on the fence and bent at the hip, making my butt stick out in the air. I did not mean to act vulgar, but I had seen men look at a woman’s backside the instant it was in the line of their eyesight.

But he was different.

I glanced slowly at him again. He was busy in a conversation with another person and he had hardly thrown a look towards me. I bit my lip when he ran a hand through his slicked dark hair. I was aware that he might not be interested. It didn’t usually take me this long to be standing alone and not grab a man’s attention.

I looked back out towards the expanse of the New York skyline and pulled my hair over my other shoulder exposing my back to the sunlight which was beginning to mellow as the evening approached.

“Hi,” a voice called out from the side.

I whipped my head up to see a young man, way younger than me, with a beer in his hand but dressed in a fancy suit. He had a boyish grin on his face. His hairstyle somehow reminded me of Troy Bolton from the High School Musical movies.

“I couldn’t help but notice you standing here, alone,” he added and leaned his back on the glass fence besides me. He was standing in a way that gave me a clear view of the man with his friend while also giving me the opportunity to talk to the man-child attempting to talk to me.

“Aren’t you too young to be making a pass at me?” I did not want to sound rude. So, I added a smile at the end of my question. I smirked at him when he laughed.

“I was just going to ask for a dance. You are really pretty.”

I liked to think I was pretty. Not Hollywood material or model like pretty. But a compliment never hurt. “Thank you.” Genuinely feeling happy from his flattering remark. “Since you are not being crass. I think I’ll dance with you.” I smiled looking at his face light up with a big smile. Music was playing at full blast since the beginning, but someone had decided to change the playlist to soothing pop songs rather than the upbeat music playing earlier.

The Troy Bolton lookalike took my glass of wine and placed them on a table. Just out of curiosity I glanced towards the man I had wanted to hit on. My breath hitched when I saw him looking back at me. He was still in conversation with his friend, but he was looking at me from over the person’s shoulder. He had a tight-lipped smile on his lips, but his eyes looked smoldering.

I wondered if he had noticed me the moment I had come over to his side. Now that his gaze bore into me, I was almost certain he had been listening on my conversation with my young dance partner. As the moment of surprise and wonderment passed, I smirked to myself.

Now that I knew I had his attention, my motivation to dance, possibly entice him, was on overdrive.

I did not want to brag but I had recently gotten a lot of experience in club hoping. Besides trying various concoctions of alcohols in the Tri-State area, I had also wooed many men by dancing with them. I knew sometimes I was borderline promiscuous, but those thoughts were only reserved for when I was feeling down and was self-loathing.

Brushing the fleeting thoughts away, I grabbed Troy’s hand, we did not even bother to exchange names, and pulled him to the area where already a few people where swaying to the music. On the way to the dance floor, I asked the DJ to turn on some sexy beats for us to dance. The shaggy bearded DJ wasn’t impressed with my music request, he sulked but obliged anyway.

As the beats dropped, a popular RnB song, others joined the dance floor. It was getting crowded but like a way made only for us, I could still see the hunk from where he was standing. He had turned slightly to lean completely against the fence and his friend was absent.

The setting sun and the orange sky made him stand out like an Adonis. I felt a wave of excitement wash over me thinking that I had his attention. Feeling bold and fresh wave of adrenaline wash over me, I wrapped my arms around my dance partner and we both swayed together. He had his hands on my hips and his eyes trained on mine. I stepped even closer and intentionally rubbed my breasts on his chest. I couldn’t help but smirk as he closed his eyes with a slight opening of his mouth, a sigh leaving his lips.

I knew I could have that effect on guys, but I was only putting a show for him.

My knees felt weak as our eyes met from across the floor. He was sipping from his glass again, other hand tucked inside his pocket. It was weirdly arousing to think of all the attractive women-tall, blond and fair ones-he had his eyes on me.

I was feeling a little more adventurous, so I tried to take the sexual tension up a notch. I turned around so that my back was against Troy’s front. I pulled his arms to wrap around my waist while I swayed my hips to rub against his crotch. He seemed to be getting riled up too since his hands were beginning to run up my sides and I could feel him poking me from behind. I closed my eyes to the music for a moment, the buzz from the alcohol finally hitting me, and enjoying his hands travelling up my thigh…

“I’ll take it from here,” his voice was gravelly but also commanding, the British accent sending a chill throughout my body. I opened my eyes to find that the stranger had walked up to us while I had my eyes closed. He was so close to us; I could breathe in his pleasantly musky, citrusy cologne. Before I could say anything, he stuck out his hand towards me. I was astounded that he could sound dominating and act polite all in the same heartbeat. Like walking in a trance, I took his hand and made him lead me wherever he wanted.

I could hear poor Troy’s desperate protest but neither I nor him turned around to pay any heed.

As soon as we were out into the hallway leading up to the elevator, he pulled me to a corner graced by only a potted plant. My back hit the wall with a force hard enough to make air leave out from my mouth. I wasn’t given any chance to gather myself as his lips came crashing down on me. I could taste the scotch on his lips and feel the softness of them as they moved in fervor against mine.

“Aren’t you a tease,” he said while travelling down my neck while leaving kisses on my skin. “I am fairly certain this is what you want. But if not-” he stopped to look up at me. His chest was heaving along with mine; I could feel my erect nipples straining against my dress fabric.

I was left speechless, yet again. This man who looked like a sculpted Greek God up close, with his steel blue eyes and chiseled jaw had kissed me so feverishly that words had practically been thrown out of my head. I opened and closed my mouth several times to form words.

I watched as his expression changed from aroused to concerned with a single eyebrow raising up. I shook my head to come to my senses. I would be stupid to stop now. My knees were already weak from being this close to him. And my panties were already soaking wet from the kisses we had exchanged.

“Don’t stop,” I breathed out before pulling him by the front of his shirt to meet his lips with mine.

“I’m Henry,” he kissed the nape of my neck, sucking gently and making me moan. My toes curled as his hand travelled down between my legs and brushed against my mound.

“Anya,” I barely breathed out. I felt him suck at my neck, feeling a bruise forming but caring less and less about it as the moments passed. “Are you going to take me home?”

I could feel his lips curl in a smile against my skin. He cupped my breasts gently in his hands and gave a squeeze before coming up to look me in the eye. His azure orbs had darkened with lust, his lopsided grin causing dimples to appear on his cheek. “Yes,” is all he said before leading me down the hallway to the elevator.

[7-wonders]

Hardships Unnumbered

Summary: The quest to save Julia begins, but not everything is as it seems in this mystical land.

Word Count: 1969

A/N: Hi friends! This is the second chapter of my Labyrinth King!Michael AU fic, "It's Only Forever." I'll link the first chapter down below. I hope that you enjoy and, as always, likes, comments, and reblogs make my world go round.

(also there's a couple of little easter eggs/one big one and I'm really excited to see who figures them out)

Chapter One

Though you put your hands out in front of you to brace yourself, it doesn’t help you to discern which way is up and which way is down until you finally stop rolling. With a groan, you shove yourself up to your feet. Your palms are scraped and slightly bleeding, your jeans are torn at the knees, and leaves and twigs now adorn your hair. All in all, this is not the way you had hoped to start this mission to get Julia back.

Now that you’re already at the bottom of the hill, it’s easier to decide how to start this jaunt through the Labyrinth. After all, you certainly can’t go back up, and the solid ground beneath your feet only leads one way. The shining spires of Michael's castle at the center of the maze, closer than you had thought, rise high above you and act as a compass. All factors considered, you can definitely run this in a couple of hours. Then, once you’re both safely out of here, your first order of business is to call the cops.

Your confidence begins to fade the longer that you walk along with the wall separating you from the inside of the maze. There’s no door, or arch, or opening anywhere to be seen. Turning around, you look back to see if you’ve missed the entrance. Instead of finding one, movement catches your eye. A man, tall and willowy, cries out victoriously at something trapped under his foot. He seems to be your best bet, and you decide to approach him.

“Excuse me?” you say.

The man startles, obviously not expecting to see anybody here. “Oh!” he cries in surprise, looking at you as if you’re the first person to ever cross his path. His hair is bleached to look almost white, and he has a pair of oddly-shaped sunglasses with purple lenses covering his eyes. The checkered jumpsuit, complete with ruffles on the shoulders, both does and doesn’t go with the sunglasses. You’re not quite sure why the people that live here dress so funny, but it’s making you feel underdressed.

“Which way do I go to get into the Labyrinth?”

“Now, why would I tell you that?”

“Because you must have come from there,” you pause, looking down at the man’s foot when you hear a squeaking, “oh! Is that a fairy?”

“Mhm.” Your childlike wonder is abruptly swept out from under you when he kicks the small, blue creature into the forest.

“Why did you do that? That wasn’t very nice!”

“Go ahead and pick one up,” the man says, “you’ll see how nice they are when you’re missing a finger.” As if to prove his point, a fairy flies up to you and hisses in your face, showing off two rows of razor sharp teeth. “What is it that you wanted, again?”

You huff. “To know which way to go to get into the Labyrinth.”

“Did you try asking it?”

“I’m sorry, what?” You roll your eyes in disbelief before mocking him. “‘Labyrinth, please let me in!’ Is that what I should say?”

He doesn’t have to respond, for a sudden rumbling has you turning around. To your shock, there’s suddenly an open space in the wall that hadn’t been there just a second ago.

“You’re joking.”

“No, I’m Gallant.” You want to tell him that you weren’t guessing his name, you don’t even want to know his name, but he continues. “Who are you?”

“(Y/N).”

“Ah, that’s right.” So this is one of Michael’s ‘subjects?’ After all, if your dreams have been right (and you’re still half-convinced this is just the elaborate scheme of some unhinged weirdo and not magic, despite what you just saw), then that means that Michael is also the ruler of the Underworld. With that logic, Gallant must be some sort of a demon. If that’s the case, you certainly don’t want anything to do with him.

“Well,” you say awkwardly, “I’m going to go now. Running on limited time, and all that.”

“You’re just going to go in there? Alone?”

“Yep.”

“But--but the Labyrinth leads to the Labyrinth King!”

“That’s kind of the whole reason why I’m here.”

“You’re going to get hurt in there.” Gallant gasps. “You could even die in there!”

You set your shoulders, walking to the hole in the wall and glancing back. “I won’t, but thanks for the concern.”

“Wait!” Even if you did want to listen to what he had to say, you couldn’t, for the wall closes back up on itself the moment you step through it. Mildly jarred though you may be, there’s not much you can do to change this, so you turn around and try to figure out whether to go right or left. Both directions look exactly the same, so with the flip of a mental coin, you go right.

After both walking and jogging for what must have been over a mile, you’re no closer to any sort of landmark that would tell you where you are or how close you are to the castle. There haven’t even been any corners to turn past, just one long, unending aisle. You’re starting to feel a little claustrophobic as you finally come to a stop, needing to take a break for a minute. Sinking down against the wall into a sitting position, you find yourself looking back and forth down the path. Both directions look exactly the same, for as far as you can see. You groan dejectedly and put your head in your hands, allowing yourself a moment of pity before getting up and trying again.

“Hey there!”

You jump at the sudden Southern-sounding voice. “Who’s there?”

“Me, of course!”

Looking around, you see a small door just to your left, and a small woman, probably less than a foot tall, standing next to you. Her curly blonde hair is pulled up into a ponytail, showing off her pointy ears. “And you’re...talking to me?”

“There’s nobody else around, is there?” The woman glances inside the open door. “‘Cept the missus, of course.”

Another woman, also blonde, pokes her head outside and smiles up at you. “Hello!”

“Why don’t ya come inside for a while? ‘Delia makes a killer gumbo.”

“Uh...no thanks. I’m just taking a break for a moment before I find a way to the castle.”

The woman’s face turns severe, and she holds her shawl tighter around herself. “You must be awfully brave if you’re so determined to go up there.”

Brave? You wouldn’t call yourself brave. Stupid, maybe, for bowing to the whims of the guy who’s kidnapped your charge, but not brave.

“But anyways, just go through the wall across from us and you’ll be on your way.”

You look in front of you to see the solid wall. “Through there?”

She nods.

Logic is telling you that this is obviously false, but, considering the same thing happened with Gallant, it can’t hurt to try. Standing up, you cautiously put your hand up to the wall, expecting to meet, well, a wall. Instead, you almost fall through a doorway that leads to another passage in the Labyrinth. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

“You will be if you keep going.”

You choose to ignore this, at this point knowing that everybody who lives here is terrified of their ruler. “Thanks for the help.”

The elf stares at your back as you walk through the new corridor, figure becoming smaller and smaller. “If she would have stuck around, I would have been able to get her on the right track back home, not towards that horrible man.”

From inside the house, a timer beeps. “Misty, supper’s ready!”

///

In the stone chamber of the King of the Underworld’s throne room, a three year old girl is currently winning a staring contest against a demon. Michael watches as the demon’s eyes begin to water (with blood, of course), before he eventually gives in and blinks. The little girl cheers before looking at Michael.

“My daddy’s gonna kick your butt, you know. He saved mama from aliens once.”

“Silence, child,” Michael commands, but he can’t help the twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth. It’s difficult to hide his amusement when this child is the most lively thing to grace his castle since...well, he can’t quite remember since when.

Being surrounded by demons of all shapes and sizes, with a variety of horns or extra eyes or tails, gets old after a while. Demons, quite frankly, are a bore. All they want to do is scare people and cause mayhem, yet continue to use the same methods that have been in place for thousands of years. If Michael’s being honest with himself, everything’s a bore to him here. In the early years, this job had been quite fun. Lots of naive humans to terrify and endless souls to torture.

Michael himself had been prone to naivety, then. It was easy to deal with the buffoons that called themselves demons when it seemed that, soon enough, he would find somebody to share this burden with him. After all, it was the guy upstairs who believed that emotions were for the humans. Michael, however, found it to be one of the most carnal pleasures. To love, and to be loved, seemed like the greatest sin. As the years passed, and the whole routine of ruling the Underworld became stale, Michael began to embrace the feelings of dejection, while simultaneously dreading the thought of an eternity alone.

That’s why, no matter the outcome of tonight, Michael would at least have something to add a little color to his black-and-white world. At the very least, the child would provide much-needed entertainment in the Underworld. She seems quite creative, which could potentially lend itself to some new and innovative torture methods. But, that would almost be a non-starter, considering the whole reason that she’s here, the whole reason Michael implemented this plan in the first place, is to get to you.

You, who managed to somehow win over demons disguised as beggars that loitered outside of the bookstore you worked for. You, who was constantly coming up with your own ideas for stories, creating and erasing entire worlds within your mind (a power far more powerful than any regular magic, Michael believes). You, who had somehow managed to vex and enchant him, without ever having spoken a word to him. He had seen you on one of his visits up Above, talking to a beggar demon as if they were your equal, offering food and shelter to their grotesque form. From then on, he knew that he had to have you, and from that, a plan was born. The Labyrinth, which he had subtly placed in every single one of your dreams for months now, was impossible to run through. You would inevitably lose. And when that happens, he’s prepared to accept your frantic offer where you exchange yourself for the child. He is, after all, a benevolent ruler.

“Mr. Michael?” Julia questions, breaking Michael out of his pondering.

Michael hums, deciding that he won’t lecture her on the importance of referring to rulers by their titles. “Yes, little one?”

“Do you have juice here? ‘M thirsty.”

“Abaddon!” Michael calls, the demon appearing in a puff of smoke. “Get our guest some refreshments.”

The demon turns to do Michael’s bidding, shocked when Julia grabs their clawed hand and skips along with them. “I really like your spiky horns,” she says.

Michael looks up at the clock on the wall, noting that only nine hours remain for you to reach the center of the Labyrinth and rescue the child. Perfect. He’s not one to get too cocky (yes he is), but these are odds he’s willing to take.

//

Tag List (send me a message if you want to be on this!): @sojournmichael @dark-mei-rose @blakescoven @xavierplympton @michaellangdon @trelaney @ajokeformur-ray @babyloutattoo89 @bloodcoatedeclipse @threeminutesoflife @annikathebananana @wth-trippy @thatonehumanbeing05 @dumybitch

[infinitegalahad]

SHE WILL BE LOVED (Floyd Talbert X F! Reader)

Summary: Floyd drove for miles and miles, and still wounded up at the same door. Every. Single. Time.

Word-Count: 6.5k

Warnings: Slight mention of smut, past mentions of abuse/ rape

A/N: Based off of the Maroon Five Song. Not gonna lie, there old stuff is salvageable and can go hard, Overexposed is a great album. I have a love and hate relationship with this oneshot. I should be sleeping because I have to wake up at 7:50AM tomorrow but like...Floyd Talbert, am I right? Also, I'm working on dribbles. My inbox is acting strange so if you sent in anything, please send it in again, thank you! Hope you guys enjoy!

Taglist: @tvserie-s-world @easy-company-tradition @liebgotttme @50svibes @ricksmorty

Masterlist | Add yourself to my taglist!

Women say men are all the same; A gentleman, at least what Floyd Talbert considered him, proves women wrong.

Floyd Talbert knew he was no good. He didn’t consider himself a playboy , even though he charmed a new girl every week and possibly took them to bed, but he definitely knew how to play the game. Heck, his friends called him the master of the game. Girls back home and Europe loved it when Tab would break their young hearts with his dashing smirk. Every week, he’d have a pretty lady or two hanging off of his arms, giggling and smiling at anything he did or said. It boosted his ego even bigger than it already was. What was there not to love? He got whatever he wanted, when he wanted, and he always was satisfied in the end.

Guys wished they were him and any girl he could get his hands on simply adored him. Floud Talbert was like Hercules, but more conceited and naive. He was too young for marriage and too old for foolish games. He liked the flamboyant lifestyle he lived, it kept him on edge. Besides, who would Floyd Talbert, the one, the only, change for?

--------

“Busy night?” You questioned, leaning against the counter, overlooking the packed bar. There was soft jazz in the backing music, singing, dancing, and loads of drunken men. Most of them were Americans. Alborune had been hosting the Paratroopers in the quaint little town. On the weekends, the pubs would turn into total clusterfucks, at least according to your boss.

Your boss looked at you and shrugged his shoulders, throwing a towel over his shoulder. “Unfortunately, and a lot of damn drunks,” He cursed. You looked behind him, seeing the American soldiers sloppily dancing with the local girls and even some of the waitresses. You could see the soldiers, their breaths of beer and hands grasping the waitresses' backs and butts, spinning them around as swing music played in the black. You had worked in a pub and knew how these relationships ended; divorce or after an awkward one night stand. Unfortunately, you had experienced the two of those more times then you could count on your fingers. Not wanting to get hurt, you made it official that you were here to do your job, make drinks, and serve the men. Nothing else and nothing more.

You bit your lip, letting out an inhale, “Another Friday night at the pub.”

“Jus’ be careful, you hear me?” Your boss warned. He was like a father towards you; an old man with sweet eyes. He always made sure the waitresses in his bar weren’t being harassed in the pub. “And whatever you do-”

“Don’t get yourself into trouble,” You repeated as you tied the apron onto your hips, “I know. ‘S not like I’ll be getting into it anytime today, or at all.”

At the bar you worked at, most of the waitresses were the most beautiful women you had ever seen. They looked like they belonged in Hollywood with their soft curls, red lips, and large breasts. They were always either chatting up a storm with a Paratrooper, giving a paratrooper a motorboat, dancing with a Paratrooper, or sneaking with a Paratrooper to the back of the Pub. It was because they were beautiful on the outside, but not within. The men weren’t smart enough to see that. All they desired was a pretty girl to use and then dispose of the next day. It occasionally made you a tad bit jealous. You knew how childish it was, but you wanted to be that girl who was loved not only for her looks, but her personality. Loved for who you truly were. But you reminded yourself that it was better if you kept yourself out of the limelight.

You had begun your shift, taking orders and rushing to the counter to make two full trays of beer in your hands. The night was so far going well. A few of the men had hit on you, but it was nothing new or special. You simply ignored it, doing your mundae little schedule.

Rosie was one of your co-workers. She was everything you wished to be; pretty, bubbly, and got everything she wanted. Every week, Rosie would wrap another Paratrooper around her finger. However, she began to play their game as well. Rosie took pleasure in twisting the mind’s of the Paratroopers and breaking their hearts, finding entertainment in it. She was a tease and took great pride in it. As much as you wanted to be her, seeing the Paratroopers have drinking games and even fights over her hand in “marriage” or “too see her glorious caboose”, you stopped and questioned yourself with emotion and logic. Was she truly happy doing this? Was she trying to fill a void in her life? Was she more of an object then a woman? Was it moral of her to break hearts as well?

You saw Rosie sitting next to a young Paratrooper as they made out passionately, hands traveling across each other's bodies. You couldn’t help but look and see their burning desire and hunger for each other. Rolling your eyes, you walk around the crowded bar, the strong smell of Alcohol and vintage jazz pleasing your ears. Every table was full, and as much as you dreaded it, it was your job to go around and ask what the men wanted.

You approached the first time and put on a counterfeit red smile, tilting your head as you chirped to the men. They all turned to you, half smiles and tired eyes, begging for more alcohol. You simply took the groups and wrote down their orders, going from man to man until you reached the end of the table.

“And what would you like?” You asked, preparing your pen and pushing it against your tiny notebook.

The man at the end of the table was conversing with her friends. He first turned his head, greeting you

with his big hazel eyes. You observed his boyish features of ruffled golden hair, a babyface, and lightly tanned skin. Sure, he was handsome, but so was every other man in this bar. He looked at you up and down, a smirk forming at the edge of his lips before he turned his whole body around to face you. He leaned on the edge of the table and simply stared at you, like he was in awe.

“You,” He spat, earning a laugh from all of his friends.

Through your smile, you grit your teeth. “As If I’ve heard that one a million times..” It was a lie, that was the first time you had ever heard that in a while. You weren’t pretty enough to be noticed, but this time was apparently an expectation. “Do you want me to get you a menu?”

You pointed his finger at you, “Like I said-you.” He stood up and smirked, holding his hands out. “You-me, I think we’d make a pretty great match.”

“How would we make a great match If I’ve known you for less than a minute?” You questioned, raising your eyebrows. “I could be mean.”

“Oh, come now. You're gorgeous, I’m handsome.” He persisted. Great, not one of these. “Besides, I like challenges. Just be warned, I always win them miss…” He hesitated on your name before continuing, “Your name, doll?”

“Your order?” You said as you tapped your pen against your notebook. His little nickname had your cheeks flush a little. Thank god the pub had been litlety dimmed. “Please?”

“A beer and your name, please.” He politely requested. “I don’t believe I’m asking for much.”

You looked at him with a sarcastic and puzzled expression, “Why do you care so much about knowing my name? You seem like the type who would forget by the next morning.”

His friends made “ohing” noises like middle schoolers like a teacher would reprimand one of their friends. The cocky bastard let out a chuckle, flashing his pearly whites in a cocky smile. “Well, it depends. You’re feisty-I like it. Since it’s gonna be a while before we have anything going on between us, I best thought I’d make us familiar with each other. It’ll take some time for you to fall for me, but when you do, you’ll be lucky.”

This man could not be for real. It wasn’t a man, but a boy. But on the outside, he was so god damn handsome. He looked like a homewrecker, but god damn, he did a good job of being one. Your boss's word’s of staying out of trouble were lingering from your mind now, and so quickly.

“You’re not gonna shut up until I tell you my name now, are you?”

He shook his head, “Where’s the fun in that, dollface?”

You wrote down his order for beer and then looked up, a smirk, “Y/n. Now you?”

“Y/n, a good name for a good girl. I’ve met a lot of y/n’s, but none like you. They fell into my arms like flies, but you aren’t like that. Just yet,” He joked, earning an eye roll from you. “It’s only fair If I tronduce myself, Sergeant Floyd Talbert,” He gave you a quick salute before relaxing, ‘But you can call me Tab, your boyfriend, or that silver fox that swept you off of your pretty little feet.”

“I think Tab will be good. Just try not to forget my name now, even though my expectations aren’t very high.” You sassed. He gave you an air kiss and you simply gave him a side eye, holding the tray and notebook to your chest as you ushered back to the counter to retrieve Beers. As you prepared them, you thought about Floyd Talbert. There were thousands of men like him. Good for nothing players who were too damn handsome for their own goods. Floyd Talbert was the type of man your parents would warn you to stay clear of since their middle names were trouble in all capitals.

But if he was so bad, then why was he so good to look at it?

Back at the bustling table, Floyd had kept his eyes on you. He watched your eyemove, like a hunter with its prey. He saw you converse with other waitresses, turn down compliments from other paratroopers, and do your job. He wasn’t one for formality, especially in the dating fields. It wasn’t what he was accustomed to doing. By now, the two of you would’ve been in the back of the pub, faulting to get your clothes off of each other for a wuckie. But you were different, you were a special case that Floyd knew would take a lot of investigating,

“Why’d you ask for her name?” Malarkey asked, knocking Floyd out of his trance. “You say it’s not good to ask for a dame’s name. You know, to make it easier.”

Floyd didn’t look over at Malarkey and simply stared at you, filling the large drinks with beer. He pulled on his lip, slumped on the chair. He always knew the answer for everything, he always had a solution.

But this time, it was different.

Floyd had gone into one of the bathrooms with a waitress, who simply smirked at him. Her whole face had trouble written her face, and so did he. She had red lipstick, bedroom eyes, and the nicest rack Floyd had ever seen. He knew from that moment that he would use his words to woo her. After a brief conversation of aggressive flirting, her and Floyd headed to the bathrooms with the blonde, angrily took their clothes off, and fucked. It was quick and there was not a single word spoken between the two. Floyd loved the attention and girls he got, but he never got a relationship or word out of them. He only cared for their looks, which even he knew was shallow. But it was all he knew how to do. If they seemed happy, so was he. But inside, was he truly happy with this lifestyle he lived? Did he like leaving a girl heartbroken the next morning with no goodbye? Did it make him happy?

And yet, he never asked for her name or had a small conversation with her. After they finished, she simply cleaned herself up and left, acting like nothing had happened. Floyd acted like that too, it was easy to put on a facade. He brushed back his ruffled hair and looked at himself in the mirror. He liked what he saw on the outside, but what did he like on the inside?

He still thought about the girl who had served him, y/n, who was not like his other targets. Y/n rejected his advances and twisted his words, which even Talbert found entertaining. He didn’t know this girl very well, but he wanted to. Flirt with her and talk to her, heck-even have a drink with her.

His hyperixation with Y/n wasn’t going to be ending anytime soon.

--------

So Floyd did what he did best-he kept coming back to the Pub. He would come with the men from Easy Company, and sometimes on his own. There he’d find y/n, who’d roll her eyes as he’d walk over and make another “amazing” attempt at flirting. His comments weren’t very creepy, after all, he was a gentleman. You had seen him around the bar before, but never learned his name. You always saw him as the handsome player with a blonde or brunette on his arm. Sure, he had that classic boyish look every girl and guy wished or wanted, but under all that hair gel and his pristine uniform-was he doing it all for his own pleasure? Did he think of women as toys he could throw away the next day, just like had been before? So you did what you did best-keep your distance and roll your eyes at his remarks.

But everytime he walked in and the doorbell would ring, signifying his presence, your hand would grasp against the cloth you were holding to wash down the bar counter..

Floyd kept his promise and kept being persistent with winning your heart. He’d walk in and lean against the counter, saying your name like a sweet singsong. You’d serve him a drink, and he’d tell you about his day and occasionally flex his muscles. At first glance, Floyd seemed a boorish boy; the one who’d brag how he’d conquer multiple women like they were countries. You knew boorish men all too well, and didn’t need another one to increase your pessimistic view on romance.

While much has Floyd loved to boast about himself, he also loved to talk about you. He always complimented your outfits, asked about your day, and even scared off the creepy paratrooper’s who’d get too close for comfort. When Floyd would talk to you, he’d look directly into your eyes and respectfully listen. And he remembered the tiniest of details, such as your little daughter or your neighbor, an edlery women, who’d pester you about marriage and cooking.

“So, how’s Ms.Walsh?” He asked as you placed a Beer in front of him. He had a shit eating grin on his face, so you already knew where this was going. “Did you tell her about your new man?”

You shrugged your shoulders and played it off, “Much to your dismay, I did not. I’m still single.”

“Funny that you say that, y/n. Next time, tell her that you have a very handsome and strong Paratrooper with a dog. I think Trigger will like Poppy a lot.” Floyd boasted as he kept his eyes on you, leaned against the counter with your arms crossed. “Poppy will get used to Trigger, just like us.”

Every Time he’d throw a remark at you, you’d throw it back with a tint of sarcasm. You had learned how to play his game, but occasionally loosened up. Floyd wasn’t a bad guy at all, his ego was big, but he didn’t have any cruel intentions when it came to you. He treated you like a human, with feelings and emotions. He always asked about your day, how you were, made you feel better when you were sad, and did anything to make you happy. So you broke out of your ice a little and did what he did to you in return; show him kindness. You’d finally sit with him at the bar if it wasn’t busy and talked to him.

It was hard to deny, but as much as you hated it, you were falling in love with him. It was hard to resist him, his words were as smooth as silk. Whenever he’d see you, he’d call out your name and would make sure everybody knew you were his-or at least that’s what you thought. The girls you worked with in the bar tried to flirt with him, but much to your surprise, he would push them all away-just for you. All of his attention was focused on you, and only you.

You were beyond conflicted. Your head was telling you to simply be friendly and civil, but your heart was leading you to pursue this romance. You were torn between logic and emotion. One part of you loved him, one part of you hated him. You hated the way he made you feel, think, blush, and do things. Floyd was taking over your life, whether you liked it or not. Whatever you and Floyd had going on was no longer on thin ice. The two of you were deep in the water scuba diving, together.

The bar was busy at night, but tonight was different. It was less busy than usual and much quieter. The ambience was peaceful, soft souls playing in the background with the warm lights dimmed. Your manicured nails tapped at the counter as you observed the setting; some paratroopers drinking, a paratrooper cuddled with a fellow girl in town, and a waitress casually conversing with the costumors. Only a few more hours and you could finally return home with little Luna, nestled in your warm bed, alone and safe from the cruel world.

The little bell on top of the door had rang, alerting the whole bar of a new customer. You turned your head and bit your lip upon seeing the incoming danger. Great, your shift had just become a whole lot more entertaining.

Floyd was donning his new uniform, cap and gelled hair. He strutted across the bar to you, knowing that he was handsome. He knew he was hot shit and wanted to make sure everybody knew. He came up right to the bar counter and leaned against up.

“Miss y/n…” He greeted in his boyish voice, looking up and down at your figure as he usually did. He stopped at your face. You never wore makeup, and if you did, it was barely noticeable to the naked eye. However, Floyd noticed you looked different tonight. You had a bright shade of red on your lips, a light rogue pressed onto your cheeks, and a soft eyeshadow to match your (y/e/c) eyes. It was soft, just like Floyd perceived you as. “Are you wearing makeup?”

You nodded and looked down, feeling your heart skip a beat. You tried to snap back at him, but your body forced you to look and not embarrass yourself. “Yes. I suppose I try something new, to make myself look somewhat put together.”

Floyd looked puzzled at your response, “Put together? You always look gorgeous, I don’t know what you mean.”

Keeping your gaze down, you were finding it difficult to be around him. The room got darker and you felt a cold sweat overcome your body. You weren’t asking for his sympathy. Of course he saw this and found another way to flirt with you. You refused to give him the satisfaction he wanted, even though you did enjoy his kind words. You shook your head, “You don’t have to lie, Floyd.”

“I never lie. Look at me, y/n,” Floyd stated as his fingers tipped your chin up. His grasp was as light as a feather. The two of you made eye contact with each other. His fingers rested on your chin for longer than you both expected. His long fingers slided away as he caught a glimpse of your face so close, noticing all the little features about you. “You’re beautiful, without all of this and with this. I don’t know if you could deny it. If a man doesn’t find a dame like you gorgeous, then they must need glasses.”

You looked at him and back down, scrambling to find your words. Romance was something that you hated. It should have made you feel happy and left you with a good relantishop, but instead you were left with broken hearts and scared. As much as you wanted to love and be loved, it was hard to. You were scared of getting hurt again but Floyd Talbert made you reconsider. And your mind was stubborn. You didn’t want to reconsider, all you wanted to do was stay in your old ways and be alone. But how long were the two of you going to play this game of cat and mouse? How long could it go on?

Every time Floyd tried to leave you, he always ended up back at your door, hoping you’ll finally open up to him; by either literally opening her door or letting him into her heart. Floyd’s way’s, the small and big things, illustrated his dedication to winning your heart. Floyd was willing to drive for miles to end  up with you, and he wished you would appreciate his effort.

“Well, I guess you need glasses then,” You smirked and turned around to fix Floyd a beer, his favorite drink. He always liked the glass to be half way since he wasn’t a real drinker, he was more of a social one. You had picked up on that after befriending him. But was he a friend? Someone who you were in love with? What was he to you, and what were you to him?

Placing the beer in front of him, you attempted to walk away, but Floyd even knew you weren’t getting away that easy.

“Sit with me,” He requested, patting the empty barstool next to him. You opened your mouth to protest, but he already beat you to it, “Nobody’s here. Just one drink, and I’ll leave you be.”

Rolling your eyes, you walked over and towards Talbert to sit across from him. Instead of patting the barstool, he was now patting his lap with a look of lust and humor. Knowing that he was teasing you, you chuckled and sat on the barstool.

“Okay, you have me now.” You said as you put your hands up, ‘Why do you want me here?”

“I wanna know the pretty dame behind all of the makeup,” Floyd responded as he pulled on his lower lip, “Tell me about you. Home, your cat, everything.”

“One minute you want to marry me, the next you want to know my life story…” You replied as you also leaned onto the counter, “If you want to know so badly, then you go first. Tell me your life story.”

And so Floyd Talbert did. He told every little detail he could about himself from his family, Kokomo, his love for fishing, his four brothers-basically, his whole life story. Floyd had no problem openly sharing his problems with the world, especially you. He was fine telling you about his dad not being present, working odd jobs in high school, not attending college-he was ok with it. He accepted and loved himself, as you could clearly see. You on the other hand couldn’t understand how open he could be with himself, in relationships and in general.

The hard front of Floyd’s boot gently kicked your heel, his toe caressing against your bare ankle. A chill was sent up your spine as you looked up at him, straightening his back.

“You seemed so interested that you started drooling,” He commented, a smirk on his face.

You gave him a puzzled expression before you could notice the sticky sensation at the corner of your lip. Groaning in embarrassment, you looked for a napkin to wipe the drool from. Before you could find a napkin, Floyd had grabbed a handkerchief from his breast pocket and grabbed your chin gently, wiping the side of your mouth. He held you like you were made of glass, easily broken by a little infraction, which was partially true.

Once Floyd removed his fingers, he handed you the handkerchief. “Here, for you.’ He slicked his honey hair back, “Some ladies would kill for that.”

Hearing the comment, you rolled your eyes and shoved it into your apron. “Hardy Har Har, thank you.”

“Ok, enough about me. What about you?” Floyd said as he scooted his chair towards you, resting his arms on the counter with his chin gliding against his palm. “I’d like to know more about my dame.”

You looked at him and back down, biting your lip. A sarcastic comeback crossed your mind, but somehow you couldn’t spit out the words. The possessive word made you freeze in place as your grasp tightened around your drink. Nobody had called you in years.

“I’m no one’s,” You stated, taking a long sip of your drink, “I’m boring. I grew up in Albourne, always have been here. I have a daughter, I like to read, smoke, I-”

“I know that, but I want to know what’s in here.” Floyd pointed a finger at your head and heart. It was sweet, and even adorable. As much as you wanted to give into his warmth, the ice that surrounded your heart began to freeze.

“Come on, darling. Don’t play so hard to get, I know it’s not easy. Just loosen up a little for once. I can tell you that I’m stubborn, just like you. I like a challenge, and I always win,” Floyd cockily stated, which only pushed your buttons. The closer he scooted his chair towards you, the more you felt like screaming at the top of your lungs. “Stop being so scared and jus-”

“My goddess gracious, shut up!” You exclaimed loudly, burying your hands in your face. Floyd, respecting your wishes, shut up and was left speechless, his face contorted. What had he done wrong? He hadn’t touched you at all.

“You know, I’ve been with guys just like you. Total flirts, sleep with whoever they want and do whatever they want. They don’t care, just as long as it doesn’t affect them. God forbid If a woman does that, she’s considered a whore,” You ranted, “Guys like you are bad news. You treat us like objects that you can use and then throw out the next day. I know this game-you don’t care about me or my feelings at all, do you?” You looked away from him, holding back years, “After all, you said you wanted honesty, so there.”

Floyd was shocked at your sudden rant. He considered you sweet and quiet. This was the most he had ever heard come out of your mouth. Normally, he wouldn’t be moved by these things since they never occurred. This was his longest “flirting avvenire” he had experienced in years. His heart broke at your words. Being ashamed of himself, he attempted to fix what had been broken.

“Y/n, that’s not what you think. I know I’m like that, and it’s no excuse. But you’re…” Floyd stopped and let out an exhale with a red face, “different. When I first looked at you, I thought I died. I haven’t talked to any other dame since-you’re the only one that matters. I think about you whenever I’m not with you. Y/n, I think I lo-”

You let out a dry laugh, “Yeah. You may talk to me, make me laugh and say the sweetest things...but how many other girls are you doing that to? How many other girls have you shamed for being your property? How many girls have you slapped for looking at another man for less than a second? How many other girls have you forced yourself on and left them with a child you never wanted? Tell me, I’d love to hear.”

Floyd listened to your words carefully, analyzing them. The thought processed on his head, and instead of looking offended, his face softened. He looked sad and pained. Even though you had said a little, Floyd could piece together your past. He felt like an idiot for not knowing. No wonder you were cold and distant. From what it seemed, you had been not only physically abused, but touched without your consent and forced to take care of a child you didn’t want. Floyd felt terrible for you. It was no longer a game anymore, it was serious.

“Y/n...I���m sorry. I never knew. I feel like an idiot for not knowing. I’m not like that. I’d never do something like that I-”

“You sound just like him. All of you are the same. You put on a fake little smile and say sweet little things,” You ranted as you pushed yourself out of the chair to walk out. Floyd cursed under his breath and followed you right out, “Then bomb, under your control.”

“Y/n-”

Slamming the door open, your feet angrily stomp through the mud. You don’t care if you're sinking. You don’t know where you're going, but you want to be as far away from Floyd as possible.

You turned around and pointed a blaming finger at his chest, “Don’t interrupt me. You're so damn manipulative. From the minute you sat down, I could see that you wanted me in your bed. My biggest mistake wasn’t falling for you, it was thinking you had fallen for me.”

Floyd didn’t say anything and watched you turn over and run a hand through your neatly done up hair and makeup, which both became unruly.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized. Floyd walked over and grabbed your hands in an attempt to win you back, “I know it’s cheesy, but you're changing me. I tried to move on, but I can’t. Just let me help you. I can be whatever for you. A friend, a lover, anything. I had no idea what you had gone through. Can you let me inside so I can help you?” He was serious, this was no joke to him or you, “Let’s stop this game of cat and mouse. Honesty is number one here.”

You threw his hands away and began to back away, black tears streaming from your caked face. The nice outfit, soft hair, and pretty dress all for him. It was blind ignorance. How dumb you felt and looked.

“Goodbye, Floyd.” Is all you said before you hastily turned around and left him alone. You could imagine his gorgeous face, all heartbroken. Deep inside, you hated doing this. Breaking hearts, just like Floyd did.

But you and Floyd were different. He was the archer and you were the prey in the big scheme of things. In your world, to prevent history from repeating itself, it is better to be safe than sorry.

-----------

You always left your door unlocked. Albourne was home, you had  never left in. You knew your neighbors well enough. They liked you and your bubbly little daughter enough. Whenever you’d come home from work, she would run up to your feet and smile at you. Her smile would remind you of the man that shattered your heart, but there was something special about Poppy. She was not his, but yours, the light in that dark relationship. You made sure she was loved every single day and put her happiness over yours.

Another girl had taken your shift for the night, which made you relieved. You had a whole day to yourself, and Poppy. It was an indoors day due to the heavy rain. You accomplished from cleaning with the help of Poppy, some reading, and a game of princess and dragons. You were the dragon and Poppy played the role of the princess, and her stuffed animal the prince. The way she played the prince triggered the thoughts of Floyd.

After cleaning up, Floyd would infect your mind like a parasite. After you had bid him goodbye, you hadn’t seen him since. You had seen his friends at the bar and around town, but not him. Why did you miss him? You made it clear that you wanted nothing to do with him. You couldn’t stand being hurt again, even if a part of you, just a tiny one, considered feelings.

When Poppy had drifted off into a nap, you decided to go check out the rain. The garden you had built outside was weighed down by the heavy amount of train. You slowly walked into the rain as you felt your hair stick to your face and the clothes on your body become all moist. It was like taking a shower, it was beautiful. Closing your eyes, you tilted your head up and let the rain pour down your face and body.

The rain suddenly stopped falling into your mouth and clothes. Confused, you had thought it stopped raining. You opened your eyes and instead of a gray sky, you were met with the black top of an umbrella, being held by none other than Floyd Talbert.

“What are you doing in the rain?” He asked casually as he put a hand on your waist, walking with you to the cover of your house. He was drenched too, but you were soaking wet. “You’re gonna get sick.”

You blinked a few times to make sure what you were seeing and hearing was real. You stuttered and pointed at you, “Floyd...oh...I...how did you..?”

“Waitresses at The Pub. I got worried, I didn’t see you at the pub.” He explained not to sound stalkerish, “I looked everywhere for you because I needed to talk to you. Please, I know you hate me, but before I go, I might not come back. I rather tell you then die with it.”

You had forgotten there was a war that Floyd was a part of. He would soon be shipped off to Europe and be gone for forever or an indefinite amount of time. His hazel orb’s begged for your attention, and you were finding it hard to resist.

“Since you’re here...I suppose it’s only fair.” You accepted, “Go on.”

“I was thinking about what you told me, and it made me think too. I used to not do it a lot, until I met you,” He admitted, “Y/n, I know it’s crazy, but I could’ve sworn I died when I first looked at you. My heart stopped and I didn’t know what to say when you came over to me. You were sweet, quiet, and drop dead gorgeous. No other dame mattered to me, only you did. When I was with you, I only thought about you and what you wanted to do. You’re in my dreams and thoughts when I’m not with you. I think about you a lot, and...I love you, angel, as crazy as I sound.”

“I know what you’ve gone through and I’m sorry. But, I want to help you. I want to make you feel beautiful and loved. You know I’m there for you in whatever way you want, as a friend or a lover. I’m always a door away, and you know that y/n. But I love you more than anything in the world, and I want to show that to you in whatever way I can.”

You didn’t know what had triggered the kiss. Maybe it was Floyd’s speech, the hand on the small of your back, or his wet uniform. You didn’t respond with words and leaned in. Floyd didn’t protest and dived right into the kiss, his hands wrapped around your waist and back for support. The girls at your job were right, he was the best kieer you had ever met. He was gentle with you, his plump lips felt like heaven on your lips. It was a genius and heartfelt kiss. He could taste your lipstick and you could taste his cologne after the two of you had far gone.

There the two of you stood, wrapped in each other's arms as the rain poured down onto you.

You looked up and grabbed Floyd’s hand, nudging your head. “I’ll get you some warm clothes. I can make you a drink, if you please. Tea, coffee, anything.”

Floyd walked right beside you and pulled you in close for warmth. He planted a kiss on your wet hair, “You?” You looked at him with that motherly glare, which earned you a giggle. “You did say anything I wanted.”

“Well, I guess I did,” You raised your eyebrows and smiled. You leaned into his shoulder as you walked back into your little cottage, Floyd holding you close to his side.

You ended up serving him Tea. Poppy had woken up from her nap and followed Floyd around like a dog, believing that her wish of a father had come true. Floyd was intent on making Poppy’s dreams come true. Poppy would rave about the stories she wrote as you sat on Floyd’s lap, a blanket sprawled on your lap. His hand would play with the ends of your loose hair as you leaned in his chest, a soft smile on your face.

You had made dinner for three instead of two that night. As you cleaned the dishes, Floyd had read Poppy a story and sent her to sleep. He promised her that the next time he came over that she would get to meet Trigger and walk him. After Poppy had fallen asleep, Floyd came back to the kitchen and carried you to your room. The two of you got rid of your dirty clothes and left them sprawled on the ground, jumping into the bath with each other. He made sure that you were pampered that night as he washed your body and hair, massaged your back, planted kisses on your body, complimented you every other second, and did thousands of little things that would make a girl go head over heels. He took you to your bed and wrapped you in warm blankets and even made you a cup of tea. He knew he was going to get in trouble, but he stayed behind with you and cuddled with you until you fell asleep for “warmth”. It was cliche, but you absolutely loved it. Floyd’s radiance and warmth had melted away that icy barrier.

And with that, Floyd truly made you feel loved once again.

[qhostqizmo]

Made To Fall In Love With You

Every creak of the floorboards reminded Essätha of a series of Eldritch Blasts going off as she tried sneaking her way down the hallway. The sorceress was no professional burglar; and despite picking her steps with care to where her weight would not awaken the shifted building’s quirks, each footfall was too loud in her ears. Every few steps her eyes trailed behind her, catching no sight nor sound of any waking murmuring or hobbled shuffling. So far, so good.

To her great surprise, no one manned the front desk as the sun peaked upon the horizon. The smell of bacon grease drifted from another room. It was distant; the Yuan-Ti woman assumed the keeper of the inn may be about while their help worked on preparing a meal for travelers willing to pay. Naturally her tummy grumbled and gurgled in a fit to the delicious aromas. Her cheeks warmed with embarrassment while hurrying the last few steps to the threshold.

By some grace of the Gods, the hinges of the door did not creak and it barely stuck as she pulled it open. The first rays of sunshine blasted her in the eye; a blinding array of dazzling white. Essie squinted for a moment, blinking as her sight adjusted to soak in her surroundings. The large front porch greeted its way to a gravel walkway, and down to the road littered with potholes out of town.

Her heart stammered in her chest uneasily. Licking her lips, she gazed over her shoulder once more.

Nothing.

An ill feeling of trepidation sank in her stomach, yet still she persisted on. The door sealed shut behind her with a click. It was a sign: there was no turning back now.

She took the steps off the porch in a hurry; twitchy that perhaps her sloth-like speed within the dwelling would have ripped precious seconds away from her escape. Rock and dirt crunched beneath her boots as she hurried for the street. The heaviness of her bag began to slap against her back; supplies giving a sturdy thump and rattle with each step. It fell in tune quickly with her rapid pulse. What was she doing?

What was best, she reminded the fearful voice in her head. It quieted, but did not release its grip on her conscious.

From the stoop, a figure raised its head as she paused, panting from street-level. The shape defined itself as a mastiff tilted its head; a solid swish of its tail thumping against the porch. The beast began to stand, shaking its mane of black and chocolate brown.

“Ssstay!”

Her hissed warning surprised the hound, which jerked its posture backwards and away a step down the stoop. It began to whine; deep and throaty and remorseful.

Essie licked her lips again. “Please,” she begged, insisting.

Again, the great canine whimpered, pacing the deck with uncertainty. Should it follow, or should it obey?

From within the structure, there was a rustle, and someone called out. The mastiff pricked his ears to swivel its gaze towards the door.

There wasn’t going to be a better distraction.

I’m sorry, Caesar.

Feeling a tear forming in her heart, Essätha let her feet fly. She knew how to push it; run past the point of lungs burning and the wobble in legs threatening a collapse. She’d been doing it all her life, after all. This was no different.

But it felt different.

Her throat jumped; swallowing around a great and heavy formation in her throat. All she could hear was her heavy breathing, her pulse pounding frantically in her chest, the pebbles and debris kicked up with each launch of her feet from the ground. It was a sprint against the sun; chasing shadows and disappearing between the sparse houses and closing in on wooded forest. The world was an endless blur of smells and colors around her; hues and spectrums of clean laundry hanging, flowers in bloom, tarry-pine trees freshly cut, the streaks of muted house-colors of greens and browns. A startled bird took flight before her into the sky, cawing. She didn’t look twice, but her dread thought that it may have been a raven.

She wasn’t going to survive long alone. Not like this. Not with two adversaries on her tail; one a personal vendetta, the other a vast network of cult members.

But it wasn’t her chances she was worried about.

Someone yelled at her in a startled voice from a smithery as she ran by, but her spare time had already been bought and sold. She beelined for the treeline that was rapidly approaching. At least her knowledge of untamed wilds would give her a clean escape. If she hit water, she’d even be able to throw off the dog perhaps if they decided to pursue her.

The timbers and undergrowth swiftly became a dense jungle too thick to traverse full-hurtle. Forced to pick her way around thorny bushes and clamor over fallen trees, progress began to waver. The sun rose slowly higher in the sky, little by little. Sweat covered her back from the fabric of the backpack, and her stomach growled and complained from lack of breakfast.

It couldn’t have been even an hour when her knees hit the ground, exhausted. She blinked, shivering from fatigue. A series of wet droplets hit the ground, and continued to fall from her face.

Lowering her head, Essie swallowed. Her forehead touched the dry earth; inhaling dust. An irritable bug bit at her arm. She could hear past her own heavy gasping, the sound of distant birds singing Pelor morning praise for raising the light into the sky once more.

A heaviness overtook her queasiness, and another whimper drew past her lips. She crumbled to the ground even more, falling to her side among the leaflitter, the weeds, the grass, the moss. Just the spot she belonged, among the mud and filth.

It seemed only a moment; and perhaps it was, that she closed her eyes. Breathe. Just breathe. However when she opened them again, the thicket was crashing and shaking; something large charging through and headed straight in her direction.

The sorceress reached for the hilt of one of her daggers, but didn’t grasp it yet when the barreling of fur and claws hurtled through the bushes.

“Caesar!” She exclaimed, dropping her hand as the beast scrambled just enough to stop before her. “I told you to stay-”

The mastiff whined, his butt wiggling with overzealous glee. He’d found her, and he was more than happy to lap his big, wet, sloppery tongue on her face.

“You might have told him to stay, but I told him hiruvalyë.”

A tremor raced down the Yuan-Ti’s spine. Her exhale rattled out of her like a last breath; uneasy and fearful. Goosebumps trailed and dotted down her arms with knowing as she lifted her head higher, spotting the void expression staring back at her. The man wearing the expression was dressed in a heavy garment cloak with a bear-fur mantle. She knew the texture of better than she recalled the memory of her own skin, or the feel of the kinks in her wavy hair.

“… What’s that mean?” she rasped. Her voice cracked, throat dry.

“It is Elvish; translated literally to ‘thou shalt find’.”

Essie dug her fingers into the dirt; lodging grime to the bed of her fingernails. She looked away from the nobleman’s sharp features and blankly staring eyes. Despite the fact he could no longer see her face, she self-consciously wiped at the tear tracks on her face now dusty dried-lined. Though she wanted to beg for forgiveness; to kiss the ground he walked on, she bit down upon her wobbly lower lip as he made his way to stand before her.

He took a knee, ushering the frantic and whining mastiff circling her back. Reluctantly but obediently, the massive dog sat where indicated and waited patiently.

Time slowed to a crawl. The pacing was worse than that of her break-out of the inn. Each breath came and went, with nothing happening. The quiet lingered. The guilt rose in her; mighty as the crashing of a thousand bison thundering hooves on the plains. The guilt burned into plumes of shame. The shame to self-loathing, like so many daggers stitched into invisible wounds on her skin.

When she did not move or speak after the seconds turned to minutes, finally the figure sighed ever so quietly. Essie did not flinch or shy away from the hand that reached for her face. She wished it would strike her, or push her, rather than cradle her chin as carefully as it did; guiding her to look skyward. She wished the thoughtfulness of this touch would hate her as much as she hated herself.

Instead; her eyes golden as the sunlight, stared up to find the red-rimmed void of blue and black staring hauntingly back at her.

If she thought she hated herself before, she wanted to succumb to Asmondeus’ themselves worst trails in the Nine Hells now. She deserved it. She deserved fates worse than death, for being the cause of such agony and hurt in such gentle eyes.

“… You promised you would never leave me.”

The words fell out of her faster than she could catch them: “M’lord Amon, it is safer this way, for all of us.”

More than anything, Essie wanted him to be angry. She wanted him to be furious; she wanted him to spit on her and tell her he despised her. That he had been burned and left too many times to accept this betrayal. That she was worthless. That she was a mistake.

Amon blinked; a fresh spring of tears in his eyes, and he looked at her with all the things she did not deserve. None of it she was warranted. He looked at her with reverence beyond any known language, and a gut-sense knowing wiser than the lifespan mankind could survive.

“I know you that you’re scared,” he whispered hoarsely and with understanding. “I see it in your eyes, I feel it in your body laid next to mine, I can tell by the way you breathe that you are terrified. But you never have to run from me, Essie,” Amon murmured. The rough pad of his thumb swiped away a stray tear that had fallen from her eye.

“I was so scared when I woke up, and you weren’t there-”

Her throat tightened, words barely audible as she wheezed, “Then I am a failure and a liar, and you should never have followed me.”

“I’m not upset with you.” She knew this, even as he spoke the words; reaching to hold her face in both hands now. “I’m not upset with you; I swear. I forgive you. I… I know what it’s like to push others away; to run from everything, to turn from hands that want to help you. I’m so relieved to see that you are safe. There was no note, no sign I… I didn’t want to believe or consider what could have happened… ” He swallowed; adam’s apple jumping.

“Neither of us is going to be if they find us here,” she reminded him, panic rising in her voice. Her gaze shift as though to search for the ghost of her past behind him, but his hands held her steady and true. It was out of habit to seek his eyes. She could not stay away long from them; they anchored her, completed her, soothed her like the lull of the ocean deep and true. Quietly mesmerized; fully enamored by the reflections of color off those shadowy eyes.

“I would die a thousand deaths, before I lived a day without you.”

The quivering in her lip returned, only time time it took over all of her body.

“I don’t want that, m’lord. I didn’t want to- to hurt you or to see you hurt or-”

With a conviction that he displayed only in private; only in brief moments, he moved closer to her and dropped to both of his knees. Amon’s face was alive now; emotions moving in his eyes, his browline knit, his mouth open wide and gasping for air as though he was avoiding hyperventilating. He shifted closer still; the smell of leather and firs, his eyes swallowing her into deep pools.

Essätha breathed him in, shaking, as his forehead pressed to her own.

The nobleman licked his lips. “If you have to go, know that I will go with you,” he swore, reaching for her hand. He brushed a kiss to the back of her knuckles, and heat inflamed her face.

“Amon-”

He ignored the desperation in her plea, continuing: “You can choose to flee but you can’t choose who follows you. You never left me alone in my worst moments; not when you found out my dark truths, not during trial, not when others warned you that I was nothing but smooth-talker, and I am not leaving you. We are in this together. I don’t care what dangers I have to face, as long as I am with you. If I am only allowed a second for a final breath, I would just die happy because I shared it with you.”

“You are worth the fight. You are worth whatever sacrifices I have to make, to make sure that you’re protected. Just as you have taught me, you do not have to face your demons by yourself, Essie. I’ve got you. I always have your back, no matter what happens. You don’t need to run away from me. Nothing is going to keep me away from you. We can get through anything as long as it’s you and I, remember? You told me that we could make it through anything together.”

The pressure of his hand interlocked with hers was a lifeline. There were no words to describe it; the coarseness of his palms; weathered, firm, rough. They should be almost frightening to someone like her; soft, delicate, weak. Where his struggles had lead him to his sharp edges, her own had lead her to careful hands and swift feet. There were opposite products of tragedies and misfortune.

“But I need you to live,” she wept, tears freshly falling to drip from her chin.

“Then let me live with you,” her nobleman urged, tenderly wiping tears from her face. “You helped me to meet a better version of myself I didn’t know existed. I’m stronger; kinder, more patient and merciful because of everything you’ve taught me, Ess’. I’m all of those things and more, when I’m standing by your side. You’ve taught me compassion and freedom and strength on a whole scale I never imagined. I never want to stop learning and growing with you; I never want to stop looking into those beautiful bright eyes and that warm smile, not for even a second. I can’t imagine an existence; cold and dark, after witnessing so much light that comes into the world when you’re in it.”

“I need you,” he crooned. “I need you more than air, or food, or water, or shelter. I need you; your persistence, your joy, your fearlessness, your heart, your drive and graciousness. You are everything to me. You mean everything to me. You and I Essätha; we can take on the world. We can do it, together. I look out for you, and you look out for me. You have nothing to fear; until the last fight is over we can stand side by side. I am not leaving you alone. Not… Not like this. Not until… Not until I’m sure you do not want me, that you…”

Heartbeat hammering in her chest, Essätha shushed him gently, wiping her filthy hands against her shirt. When she was certain they were clean, she reached to take hold of his face. He melted into her touch with such open want that she audibly exhaled unsteadily with shock.

“I am never going to forgive myself, if something happens to you.”

“It would not be your fault.”

“Amon-”

“Let me do this,” he insisted. “I can keep you safe. Forever, I swear.”

She hated the agony in his voice. The anguish. The desperation. He wanted her to believe; needed her to believe. And she knew his every word was true. She knew this; a fact, as the sky was blue, as the moon would rise even if there was overcast, as the grass was green and the days would continue on she knew.

It was what could happen that frightened her the most.

“You wouldn’t stop following me even if I told you not to, would you,” she mumbled. She knew the answer to this, too, even before he replied. Spoken as a statement, not a question.

“Not until I knew you were out of danger”

Another shudder racked down her spine, and she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, he was even closer; his breath now tangling with her own. Her thoughts scrambled dizzily; mind and heart buzzing with her pining.

Her nobleman licked his lips anxiously; eyes darting from her own to her lips and back again. “… What I would sacrifice to the Gods right now, just to kiss you, even once,” he whispered gruffly.

Her heart launched into the stratosphere.

Brushing her lips against his own, Essie whimpered faintly, “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

Groaning thickly, Amon pressed closer; barely restraining the temptation of her lips, but he didn’t have her consent. Not yet. He was holding back by the tiniest of margins, nesting her face in his hands.

“Essie… I love you.”

The sorceress’ breath hitched.

“Prove it to me, then, and kiss me.”

She should have known anything her nobleman committed himself to was going to be nothing less than perfect. His lips were light and soft; a stark contrast to the rugged feeling of his palms to her face. It was a kiss barely-restrained; chaste and longing but remarkably controlled. Gentle. Considerate. Giving. Something that lasted all of a few seconds, and it stole all oxygen from her lungs and left her there, eyes closed, reminiscing the moment over and over again. The pressure of his lips against hers. The tingles that it sent hurtling through her; humming in her veins like liquid fire. The taste of him on her lips as she tasted them.

Finally, she opened her gaze to meet Amon’s own, and his mouth hanging agape. He immediately looked between her eyes to her lips, and back again. His throat jumped.

“… I love you too, Amon.”

His years of patience must have snapped; the final thin hair-line fragment breaking. He did not wait for her approval for a second kiss, melding against her in a mess of sweetness and lingering want.

It was her weakness. It broke her. It was infuriating and exhilarating; she knew there would be no turning him away. She should have realized this would happen when she had been so careless and brainless to vanish on him as she had in the first place He was willing to chase her to the ends of this world, and beyond it if necessary. It made her heart swell, and it made her putty, and it felt like a blow to the chest all at once. Even after she’d left him; run away, his worst fear realized that once again he was alone, he came racing to her side anyway with a golden heart of amnesty and his endless yearning.

Essätha had been wanting this sense of completion for so long. She couldn’t believe she had wanted to deny him the very same satisfaction she so selfishly wanted of him just because it was the easier answer.

Caesar gave an exasperated ‘boof’ from his lack of attention as they fell into each other; gentle love-bites and muted gasps of ‘I love you’s between grabby hands latching on to each other. Desperate for something to hold; to cling and merge and fold into each other.

There was no separating Amon Thomas Illiad from Essätha Meduza, just as there was no breaking the cycles of the cosmos. In the end, they’d always seek out each other.

And that was more of a blanket of security than all the weapons she could ever own and all the years of isolation she’d ever have. The risk was worth it. He would always be worth it.

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH12

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

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Chapter 12: Resurrection Overture (XII) {cw: brief suicide mention}

After this day's hellish diving training, Qi Leren, who was as heavy as lead, had no strength to climb aboard. He was floating on his back beneath the boat like a miserable little mermaid under the gaze of Chen Baiqi's disdain. Finally, Chen Baiqi dragged him back onto the boat.

On the way back, Qi Leren slept as if dead. When he was woken up by the coastal evening wind, Qi Leren suddenly sat up and the coat that had been covering him slipped down. It was Chen Baiqi’s.　

"What time is it?" Qi Leren asked in a hoarse voice. He remembered that it was about five o'clock when he’d come back, but after entering the border of Dusk where it was sunset all day, it was difficult to tell the time.　

"It's seven o'clock," Chen Baiqi said without looking back as she kneeled on the bow against the wind. "You can hurry home after you wake up, but don't expect me to carry you back."　

Qi Leren responded. After a short sleep, his spirit was much better and he could walk.　

The two people got off the boat together. Chen Baiqi put her hands in her pockets with a cigarette in her mouth and looked at the distant sunset with empty eyes, her expression unreadable.　

"Thank you," Qi Leren suddenly said.　

"Hmm?" Chen Baiqi was puzzled.　

When he first woke up, Qi Leren was slow to respond, but now he had recovered. How could it take two hours to sail from Undead Island to Sunset Island’s port? The ship had already landed, but Chen Baiqi hadn't woken him up after seeing that he was tired enough to sleep. She’d smoked on bow for two hours, waiting for him to wake up. In this world where time was life, she had expended two hours for a person who wasn’t even a formal disciple… No, it took far more time than two hours. This kindness was tantamount to a life-saving grace.　

"Nothing, just wanted to thank you." Qi Leren said sincerely, "For many things... I should thank you."　

The two of them having arrived at an intersection, Chen Baiqi was going back to her store to have dinner with her sister, and Qi Leren was going back to Dr. Lu where he was still spending the night.　

Chen Baiqi stopped and stamped out the cigarette butt: "It's no use thanking me. Come and show me your potential."　

"I’ll work hard."　

"I’ll watch it, too," Chen Baiqi said, then turned and left, waving goodbye at him over her back.　

Qi Leren stood in silence for a moment, looking at Chen Baiqi’s back. She really was a woman with many stories and many worries, but she refused to sell her own stories and was reluctant to share her past. She was tightly wrapped in secrets, and no one knew her age. Even the name Chen Baiqi didn’t seem to be her real name.　　

What had she done in the real world? What kind of experiences had she had in the Nightmare World? Why did she want to adopt a player's child and love her as a sister? How was her half-field broken? Qi Leren didn’t know any of this. His understanding of Chen Baiqi was limited to the words she had revealed—she had once worked in the Heresy Court of the Trials Court, was an assassin who mainly focused on intelligence and assassination, and had a summoning book that sealed many strange creatures, which were accumulated when she traveled in the Nightmare World.　　

He wondered if he could be as strong as Chen Baiqi once he had spent eight years in the Nightmare World. He should be able to, at least, as long as his luck didn’t stop him from reaching his eighth year. Qi Leren gave a wry smile in his heart, got rid of the idea, and set foot on his way home.　　

When he returned to Dr. Lu's clinic, Dr. Lu was treating a familiar young man and nagged, "Jumped from the third floor? I see you’re young, why do you want to die like this? Do you think you’re a superhero? Doesn’t it hurt to jump from the third floor in one breath? Sometimes people jump off buildings. If you can stop it, stop it. Otherwise, forget it. What kind of hero is that? Hey, you’re back? I'm starving for dinner right now."　　

The young man who was being treated by "Doctor’s Orders" also turned his head and leapt up from his chair in surprise: "Qianbei! Long time no see! How have you been recently? I thought about it, and the house should be returned to you. It was originally your house. I'll find another residence. I have a lot of time to live now!"　　

"It doesn't matter, I live here as well," Qi Leren said in a reserved way.　　

The last time when he signed the confidentiality agreement with Du Yue, he’d felt that he was very sorry for the other. How dare he take the house back?　　

Recently, he had had to buy an extra bed. Otherwise Dr. Lu, who was grudgingly made to sleep on the sofa, would have continued to look at him bitterly and even dare to be angry at this “evil guest” who had taken over his nest. 　　

Du Yue looked at Qi Leren, who refused to move back, as if he was wronged. He lowered his head like a big dog who had been reprimanded by his master. Dr. Lu looked at him pitifully and invited him to have dinner with them. Du Yue immediately perked up: "Good, good, I have no place to eat!"　　

So the meal became three people together. If Qi Leren's training ended early, he would come back to cook. If it ended late, Dr. Lu would do it. Dr. Lu's culinary skills were not bad. You could see it from how Du Yue ate three bowls in one go.　　

After dinner, Du Yue rushed to wash the dishes. Qi Leren and Dr. Lu had a brief exchange about today's events.　　

"Du Yue had come several times even before you came back. I'm telling you, he's a personal event trigger! Almost every time, it was a courageous injury. Walking on the road the day before yesterday, he witnessed a robbery. He went up and beat the robber who then stabbed him. Today, he met a pregnant woman who wanted to jump off a building. He saved her but fell off himself. Fortunately, only his arm was broken..." Dr. Lu gushed about Du Yue's glorious deeds, and he was very optimistic about this young man.　　

"Are you talking about me?" Du Yue came out of the kitchen after washing the dishes.　　

"Yes, talking about the series of accidents that you’ve encountered almost daily," Dr. Lu smiled.　　

Du Yue scratched his head and said with a silly smile: "It's okay… It’s not every day."　　

"Does it have to happen every day?" Qi Leren vomited a sentence.　　

"Is the pregnant woman you saved today okay?" Dr. Lu asked smoothly.　　

"Okay? Ah, Her friend persuaded her to go with her after a while and asked for my contact information, saying that she would like to thank me next time," Du Yue said.　　

"If you want an abortion, between the Village of Dusk’s medical facilities plus the monthly tasks, isn’t it only too easy?" Dr. Lu said.　　

"Yes, that's what I told them."　　

A young man who had just grown up and a young man who looked like he was underage talked seriously about the problem of pregnancy and childbirth. This picture was a bit funny. After listening for a while, Qi Leren suddenly remembered the laptop. He quickly got up and said, "You two take your time talking, I’m going to go for a walk."　　

After leaving Dr. Lu's clinic, Qi Leren followed the address that Chen Baiqi had given him before, and went to find the house of the tech savvy player who was still alive.　　

The place where the player lived wasn’t far from Dr. Lu's clinic. Qi Leren was still worried that he still hadn’t come back after leaving for his task. However, this time he was lucky. After ringing the doorbell, a mechanical voice that sounded like a young girl came from behind the door: "Master is busy. What can I do for you?"

"Hello, I was referred by Chen Baiqi. I need to make an electronic appliance please," Qi Leren said.　　

"Just a moment, please."

After a few minutes, the door opened and Qi Leren saw at a glance that the three foot tall robot on the ground looked like a moving trash can. It opened the shoe rack and found a pair of shoe covers for Qi Leren: "Please come with me."　　

It was indeed a high-tech house. Qi Leren sighed with emotion in his heart and followed the little robot all the way to the basement.　　

The basement was very big. After Qi Leren went in, he suddenly saw a screen on the wall facing him!　　

However, it wasn’t like the HD display screens common in the real world, it was like the oldest gray TV screens in an antique shop. There were constantly black and white pixels moving on this display screen, which was actually playing a simple shooting game like a computer in the 1980s!　　

As Qi Leren approached, the man who had his back to him as he watched the screen suddenly lost the game, one hand coming down on the table: "Shit, lost again!"　　

"Hello." Qi Leren made a noise.　　

The man's back froze and he turned slowly. He was a young man with glasses who looked a little dull: "...Oh, hello."　　

Qi Leren felt that he was more nervous than him. His voice was a little shaky and he stuttered a little, obviously the type that didn’t have contact with others often.　　

After Qi Leren stated his purpose, the techy suddenly got excited: "Did you bring your laptop into the game? Sell it to me, I’ll pay a high price!"　　

Qi Leren suddenly broke out in a cold sweat, not to mention that the laptop was still in Schrodinger's state, appearing and disappearing irregularly. Even if the laptop was in his item bar now, he couldn't give it to others. But if he refused this person's request, would he still help him make the charger or transformer? He had to find a suitable reason...　　

Qi Leren secretly gritted his teeth and made a decision.　　

"No, there’s very important information on it. I can't give it to anyone," Qi Leren resolutely said.　　

"I can print the information for you!" the techy said enthusiastically, without stuttering.　　

"This... is not that kind of information." Qi Leren looked embarrassed and his eyes wandered. "It's the kind of... hundreds of G, you know..."　　

The techy’s eyes grew brighter: "Dude! I haven't seen a movie in such a long time! Sell it to me! Lend it to me without selling it!"　　

Qi Leren coughed twice: "To tell you the truth, all I watched were pure men's shootouts..."　　

The techy was stunned for a moment, then resolutely insisted: "It's okay, anti-Japanese drama, gun battle film, American blockbuster, I watched all of these."　　

Qi Leren covered his forehead: "I'm talking about GV, GayVideo, a film made by a group of men, understand!"　　

"................I understand."　　

In order to keep the laptop far away, Qi Leren, who did not hesitate to destroy his image, showed a kind smile: "Do you want to see it? I have quite a few varieties there, from gangbang to S/M to people and animals-"　　

"No, I, I, I, I, I still like girls."　　

"Oh, that's a pity," Qi Leren said regretfully.　　

After he dispelled the techy’s idea of buying the laptop off him, Qi Leren quickly finalized this order with him: to make a mobile power supply that could be externally connected to a laptop, which was equivalent to a large charging battery—"When I go to a copy task without electricity, I also want to watch these films to reduce stress." Quote by a serious Qi Leren.　　

"By the way, make another transformer, because the voltage in the Village of Dusk is different from that in the real world—of course, you should watch movies to relax when you’re in the Village of Dusk." Quote by a still serious Qi Leren.　　

The techy wanted to warn him that "a little joy hurts his body". In particular, he looked at Qi Leren walking a little bit. He looked like he was worn out and exhausted. He was finally defeated by Qi Leren’s kind smile and closed his mouth silently.　　

Out of the techy’s house, Qi Leren gave a long sigh. Today, he once again made himself into a gay man with strange taste. He was still a wretched gay man who watched hardcore porn every day. It seemed that the path to building an upright image only grew longer.

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Editor’s Notes: Happy first day of pride month, everyone! 🌈

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[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

[defenderrosetyler]

Chapter One

A/N: No real triggers this time!!  WC: 1.9k Chapter 1:

“So every person in this book is a fairy tale character?” Emma Swan says to her ten-year-old son. 

The boy had introduced himself as Henry, had brought his mother to Storybrooke. Of course, Emma had given Henry up for adoption when she gave birth to him.  But to have her son seek her out made Emma uncomfortable. He had come to her claiming to be the savior of the storybook world. Henry spun a tale about a curse and how all of the characters of the Enchanted Forest were stuck in a town called Storybrooke, Maine.

Henry had with him a brown leather storybook that was thick but didn’t appear to be heavy. Henry seemed to carry around with no problem. One thing Emma found off when they arrived into town was the clock tower. As she observed it, she couldn’t help take note of how it never seemed to move. She led Henry back to his mother’s house. Henry’s adoptive mother, Regina Mills, was the mayor of the town. Henry claimed she was the Evil Queen from the story Snow White. Emma found this silly. Then again, Emma wasn’t one for fairytales anyway. Fairytales are for kids. 

Inside Granny’s Diner, Sam Winchester sat inside waiting for his brother Dean. Granny’s was usually closed at night since Granny went to work at her bed and breakfast in the mornings, but Ruby was always there at night to serve the night owls who couldn’t sleep. 

Ruby wasn’t the only one working the night shift. She worked with Y/N Y/L/N. Hardly anyone saw  Y/N working in the morning. This usually led to rumors that Y/N was hiding something.  The story was Y/N stayed locked in Rowena’s shop.

Rowena MacLeod was a private woman. However, she was a businesswoman, a loan shark, if you will. Rowena was very good at getting what she wanted through these tactics. She would let her client borrow money with the promise of paying it back fairly and on time. However, many clients don’t read the fine print in her contract.  Resulting in them having to pay double or triple what they borrowed. Rowena had helped Sam and Dean’s parents with a large sum of money to keep their business, Winchester Mechanics, afloat. Leaving their two sons, Sam and Dean, to foot the bill. Dean paid her as much as he could, but with not many people coming or going from Storybrooke, business was slow. 

This left Sam to find a way to help Dean find a way to help pay Rowena back too. But he wasn’t having great success either. Sam had started working in Mr. Gold’s Pawn shop until he found himself interested in Law. Under Mr. Gold’s tutelage, Sam had become well versed in the laws created by the town council. This led him to also find work in the Sheriff's office as a prosecutor. Often being a rival for his own boss at the Pawn Shop. It only made Mr. Gold admire Sam more.  

“Ruby, can you please help them?” Y/N begged, trying to hold back an eye-roll at the two men that walked in together, sitting across from one another. Having a conversation amongst themselves and trying to not get in an argument, again, over the amount of money they owed to Rowena. Their next payment was due within the week, and they didn’t have the funds. 

“Sorry, Duckling, it's your turn. I helped them the other day.” She says, giving her a sentimental look. 

Ruby had been watching Y/N and Sam’s exchanges cringing internally whenever they walked in the door, knowing Y/N would try and pass her along to either herself or Granny. Ruby heard rumors about why Y/N and Sam had disagreements, but their arguments were getting harsher with each passing day.

Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes, grabbing her order pad, heading over to greet Sam and Dean. 

“Evening, Y/N,” Dean says pleasantly. 

Sam muttered under his breath a greeting, and it sounded like he muttered a nickname only her friends gave her, earning a glare from Y/N in Sam’s direction. 

“What is it now, brains?” Y/N says. “Too buried in your debt to Rowena to speak louder and call me a name in front of my face?”

Dean sighed. Here they go again. “Just our usual if you would please,” he says, trying to cut the tension between the two. 

Y/N nods glaring at Sam before she heads back to the kitchen. 

“You didn’t need to butt in like that,” Sam scoffed. “I had it completely under control.”

“Oh sure, that’s why you and Y/N seem to fight or have some sort of disagreement every time we come in here?” Dean huffed,  “Who knows whatever the hell happens when you bump into her while she’s alone at Rowena’s,” Dean sassed,  “Oh wait, you’re too busy working at Gold’s shop, fighting for a chance to work a case in his place, or at the jail with Graham,” the elder brother snapped calmly. 

“Says the man who works in a shop with no cars to work on,” Sam snapped back, “How’s Amaya? Did you ever fulfill your promise to help her out?

“You keep that bitch out of this,” Dean growled. “I’ll figure something out. For now, I’m gonna see if I can get a second job somewhere.” 

“What do you mean? What other job could you get here? Think Granny can hire you as a short-order cook? At least she gets business!”  

“It’s something to get the debt paid back to Rowena, Sam,” Dean muttered as Y/N brought out their meals. Both were polite, and their bickering died down, and they went back to talking about their days. As uneventful as they were, they had a lot to talk about. 

Y/N sighed as she went back behind the counter, “Ruby, I’m gonna head to bed. Dawn wake-up call comes early.” She says with an eye roll. 

“Goodnight, Duckling,” Ruby says, smiling kindly to her, “I’ll clean up.”

===========

Enchanted Forest

“Dean, is target practice really necessary?” Sam says, looking at him. “I need to be looking for Odette, not shooting powdered arrows over at the servants’ asses.” 

“And what are you gonna do when you can’t hit your mark?” Dean questioned, “What of Odette needs saving from some Ogres, and you miss?” 

“Is that before or after the fact that you're catching fireflies at all hours of the night?” Sam asks, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Are they for you or to feed the frog that follows you around and hides on your dresser?”  he snaps, glaring at the older brother.

“I do not go out at night to catch fireflies for Amaya,” Dean scoffs, “besides, she goes out and catches her own meals.”

Rolling his eyes, Sam grabbed his red powdered covered arrows, game face on. Assuming the probability that Dean would let him win, again. Sam took an arrow from his quiver, sliding it into place. Pulling back the string once he nocked it, aiming it at his first mark, the butler, Crowley. Whom the brothers affectionately dressed up as a brown moose. The arrow left the nocking point, hitting its destined target in the center of his rounded ass. 

“Hey!” Crowley muttered, rolling his eyes. He brushed off the powder as he glared at both of the brothers. 

Dean was finding this amusing. The exercise was primarily for Sam. Why couldn’t he have fun too?

Just as Dean was about to take his shot, Castiel, the head advisor to his father, walked out onto the grounds. He intended to stop the game before it fully began. “Your Highness?”

Startled by the sudden interruption, Dean whipped around,  the arrow released from where it was nocked, hitting Castiel square into his chest. Before he could even react, a second followed by a third engulfed Cas in a powder of blue.

“If you children are quite finished,” he huffed, dusting the powder off himself, “my liege, you have a visitor. Something about a poisonous toad needing collecting?”

Dean fired one more arrow before stalking towards Castiel, “it better not be a waste of my time. My brother and I are training.” 

“Training for a lost cause if you ask me, Sir,” Crowley says, observing the body language of his employer. “For all, we know the Princess is dead as well, just like her father. God rest his soul.” He adds, making the sign of the cross. 

Sam’s head turned quickly at the Butler’s words echoed in his ear. Eyes flashed in anger, rushing over towards the pair. “Take it back! You don’t get to talk about Odette like that!”

“Forgive me, Samuel. However, I truly believe this to be a fool's errand,” Crowley says, standing closer to the trio gathered in the middle of the courtyard.

“I will find her, Crowley,” the younger prince declared, “I have to find her.”

Shaking his head, Dean followed Castiel inside to handle the visitor.

Needing an actual outlet for his anger, Sam walked with a fast pace over to the stables. The staff tended to the horses, but Sam usually liked taking care of his mare. It gave him a sense of responsibility. 

Sam’s mare, Onyx, was a beautiful black Friesian. Her height was just above 18 hands, given his six foot four stature, she was just as tall as he was. Sam was okay with that though. Grabbing a body brush, Sam slowly brushed out her black coat. It had become dirty from the loose dirt flying around.

Meanwhile, as the sun set on the edge of the trees in the forest, a beautiful white swan flew across the canopy. Odette had grown accustomed to the dawn and the dusk. Knowing she had to be on the lake’s surface as the moon touched it before she would become a woman again. 

As per her usual routine, Odette flew over Winchester Castle. Wondering if Sam would be looking for her. Who was she kidding? Sam only wanted to marry her for her beauty. Prince Samuel Winchester didn’t care about her.

Dusk approached, the swan moving to make her graceful descent down into the crystal colored water. “Was wondering if you were gonna be on time tonight dearie.” Rowena says, hands placed on her hips. Odette gave Rowena as much of a glare as a swan possibly could. The princess was always on time and never late. The other party that was never late was Rowena’s incompetant son Crowley. 

“Evening Mother, Odette,” he greets, giving his mother a nod of acknowledgement. Crowley’s appearances had begun to be a routine over the past week. Rowena’s son came every evening, giving Rowena the opportunity to ask her the same proposition in order to remove the curse. Marrying her son. 

Much to the annoyance of Rowena, Odette answered her the same as she had every single time she’d asked. One single word was her reply, but not the one the sorceress was looking for. 

“No.”

“Oh for the love of Dagda” She scoffed, rolling her eyes skyward. Eyes focused back on the maiden that stood before her. Hair glowing in the shimmering moonlight. “Need I remind you, I placed this curse on you, and I can just as easily reverse it. All you need to do, is agree to marry my dear Fergus. Once you're wed, I can give you all the riches a Princess could ask for.” 

“Far better than the Winchester’s that's for sure.” Crowley adds as a comment. 

“I’d rather be a swan over marrying your childish, pathetic son.” Odette snapped. 

“That can be arranged.” Rowena snapped, allowing the princess to mull over her choices.

[aficwhore]

As I Lay Dying...(Part Two)

Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: After an argument, Spencer and the Reader stop talking while on a case. With tension and feelings in the mix, Y/n goes undercover, but do they make it out?

Word Count: 2,119

Warnings: angst, language, violence, near death experience?

A/N: Took me a while because the plot I wrote was very similar to another writer’s, so I rewrote it, but here’s part two! yay!!! How’d you like Part one? What would you like to see next?

(Part one ending: “When were you going to tell me?!” He forcefully asked.

“Tell you what?” I attempted to answer.

“That you were going undercover! That you were going to put yourself in harm's way?!” He slightly shouted.

This angered me, “I didn’t realize that I had to run my OWN decisions by YOU! Last time I checked, I was a grown woman. This is for the better, to stop this murderer! You are NOT my father, you are NOT my owner, and last time i checked, you are NOT my boyfriend!” I exclaimed back.

Spencer seemed taken back, his face showed shock and dismay. He was speechless, a hint of sadness in his eyes.

“What? NOW you don’t say something? Unbelievable Spencer.” I exaggerate, turning on my heel and leaving him to himself in the hotel lobby.)

Reader’s POV:

Storming off, I found my way back to our room upstairs to grab what I needed for the day, my keys, badge, and wallet. My phone in my back pocket began to buzz, frustratedly I answer it as I locked the door and headed back down to the cafe. “Special Agent Y/l/n.”

“It’s Emily, we’re headed to the SUV’s, why’s pretty boy upset? Were you being mean to him?” she joked.

“No Em, he tried to boss me around, and I wasn’t going to let him.” I huffed, quickening my strides towards the front of the hotel, attempting to catch up to the team.

“Hmm, okay we’ll talk about it later just get your butt out here.” Emily muttered and hung up.

Now jogging through the doors of the lobby, I hop into the back seat of one of the two SUV’s, landing me in a seat next to the genius himself, Spencer. He stayed silent, not bothering to look in my direction.

“All ready back there?” Hotch questioned from the front seat.

“Uh yea I think so.” I breathed.

Derek slightly turned in the passenger seat to make eye contact with me. He quirked his eyebrow, as a silent way of asking what the deal was between Reid and I. I held up my phone and pointed to it, suggesting that I’d text him the deeds. He nodded and swiveled back around.

ME: “Spencer and I got into an argument about going undercover...Which was SUPPOSED to be confidential…”

DEREK: “Oh. I see. I may or may not have let it slip in front of him. I’m sorry Y/n.”

ME: “It’s okay, but he overreacted and tried to stop me. I get it, he’s worried, but why, I’ll be fine.”

DEREK: “It’s because he’s in love with you kid. He’s smitten lol.”

ME: “Whatever Morgan.”

I typed the last message as we pulled up to the police department. Quietly getting out, a hand grabs my arm before I make it fully out of the black car. I look back to see Spencer pleading with his eyes.

“What do you want.” I exhaled.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I just have a bad feeling about this Y/n. And I’m telling you not to go through with this, there’s other ways to catch the unsub.” He whimpers.

I retort, “I already made up my mind Spencer! Stop telling me there’s other ways. I know that, but this is our best shot.”

“Just listen to me for once!” Spencer raises his voice.

“Fuck you.” I spit, tearing myself from his grip and slamming my door closed. The rest of the team stand feet awake in shock and confusion. I walk past them and through the doors, in hopes to get this case over with so I can get away from Spencer for a while.

After what seemed like hours going over evidence and coming up with a profile, we finally are ready to start the undercover part.

“Alright, we need to make sure you look the part.” JJ smiles at me while ushering me into a small locker room with a bunch of clothing and shoes.

“Oh great, a makeover.” I playfully snort.

“You betcha, so all the women had been reported wearing red dresses, take your pic,” She explains while holding out two wildly short dresses. One was a low v-neck, leaving hardly anything to the imagination, and the other was strapless, an accident waiting to happen.

With a cringed face a reach out and take the low cut dress, at least it has straps. “Definitely this one, I don't trust the other one to stay up.” I giggle while slipping the red fabric on.

“Safe choice, now we have to pin up your hair. Give the unsub what he wants, something to easily grab onto. Hopefully he won’t get that close before we get him.” JJ’s demeanor shifts from playful to what seemed like nervousness or even a bit of fear.

“Jennifer Jareau, I am a big girl and can handle it if something happens.” I reassure her.

“I know I know, just Spencer said he had a bad feeling, and when is he ever wrong?” She voiced and she finished combing my hair into a slicked back ponytail.

“JJ, just give my shoes so we can get this over with and all go home, please?” I extended my hand out. She nodded and handed me a black pair of pumps. Slipping them on and standing, I take a deep breath. This was definitely not what I was used to wearing. How was I going to survive the pain in my feet AND fight bad guys?!

JJ and I walked out, only to be surrounded by the team.

“You remember the plan? Go in alone, mingle, catch people’s attention, when the unsub approaches you, calmly accept his invite to leave, follow him out to his car, get in and go to his house. We will be right behind you, nothing bad will happen. He doesn’t do anything to his victims til after you go inside and have a drink. When he offers you a drink, say the code word and we’ll grab him. Got it?” Aaron briefs me yet again.

“Yes, I got it, are we all ready? I just want to get this done, because I need a fucking drink after today.” I [proclaimed with a smirk, earning laughs from Emily, JJ, and Derek.

“Alright, we’re all suited up, lead the way Y/n,” Derek motions towards the doors.

Cracking my neck and rolling my shoulders, and I stand tall and glide to the black car waiting for me. As I slide into the driver seat, Hotch holds my door open and mutters to me, “We’ll be there the whole time. Just play it calm and collective, okay?”

I nod while slowly shutting my door. I take a deep breath and turn the key, the car engine coming to life. The drive to the club was short, but felt like ages. What was going to happen? Will I know who the unsub is? Will the team respond in time- I don’t doubt their abilities, my nervousness is just getting the best of me right now. I need to breathe, I got this.

After parking and making sure I look fine, I get out and strut as much as possible to the club entrance. Grabbing the attention of the other’s in line, I walk all the way up to the bouncer and give him the code, “I’m here for Vinnie’s party.”

“Oh yes, go ahead ma’am.” The tall man realizes and steps aside, just enough for me to slip into the dark and crowded bar. The smell of cigarettes and booze fill my senses. Heading to the bar I bump into a few people.

“Order a drink, sit at the bar for a little, then go dance, make your presence known.” Emily’s voice sounded from the small device planted in my ear. 

“Hey can I get a vodka cranberry please?” I tell the bartender. She nods, grabs a few things and mixes a couple drinks. While I wait, I glance around, no one in particular stands out. 

“Vodka cranberry,” the girl smiles, sliding it over to me. Handing her cash she shakes her head, “Don’t worry about it, the man over there paid for it.” She winked and turned to help another person. I look down the bar to find a beautiful man, blonde hair, deep blue eyes, and a pearly white smile. He lifts his drink to me, to acknowledge it was him who bought my drink.

Grabbing my drink and striding over to him, I smile, “Thank you, for this.” I gesture towards my glass.

“Of course, just had to let you know that you are the most beautiful woman here tonight.” He smirks, making my stomach flip. 

“So, what is a handsome bachelor like you doing here, all alone?” I pry, hoping that he may be the unsub.

“Just looking to make friends and meet a nice gal like you.” He winks, taking a swig of his beverage.

“Well, what do you say to a dance? Or do you not know how?” I mused, seeing a flash of anger in his eyes. The unsub had been profiled to hate women who underestimated him.

“Oh you’re going to regret that.” He said harshly, grabbing my wrist and yanking me onto the dance floor.

He spun me around fast with the beat of the song, in an attempt to discombobulate me and throw me off my game. But I kept up, trying to beat him at his little game. His hand on my waist tightened, pulling me impossibly closer.

He leaned down to my ear, “The gig is up Ms. Agent. I knew from the moment you walked in. Dressed up, perfect to my liking, easy going, and very charming.”

My ear rings, “Y/n? Can you hear me? Have you seen anyone?” He sees the small device and rips it from my ear, throwing it to the ground.

His grip on me, getting impossibly tighter. “So here’s what’s going to happen. We take a nice stroll towards the bathroom, you follow MY lead, and maybe nobody gets hurt.” He sneers.

I swallow the lump forming in my throat with a nod. As he gives me a sinister smile, and begins to push me towards the back door near the bathrooms. I frantically look around, searching for any familiar face in the club, in hopes someone would catch on. But no luck.

“Wait, they-they’ll see us.” I try to lie as we make it out the doors and towards his car.

He lets go of my waist and grabs me by my hair yanking my head back, “Then we must be quick then, KEEP MOVING.” He shoves me into the side of the vehicle, throwing me off balance. He swings the door open and pushes me inside.

“They’re going to follow us. They know all about you.” I bluff, challenging him, but it only makes him angrier.

“SHUT UP. I have different plans for you.” He yells.

I yank on the backseat door handle but it doesn’t budge, some stupid child lock. The windows are too dark for anyone to see me in here. As he speeds off I search around for something to use. His car is completely empty.

He mutters angrily to himself as he drives faster. He’s distracted, perfect. Quietly sitting directly behind him, I reach for the knob on the side of his seat to adjust it. Thinking quickly, I pull it and throw my body against the chair, causing him to slam into the steering wheel. The car screeches as it loses control, swerving to the side, throwing me against the opposite seat. The wheels catch on the pavement, sending us rolling. All I see are blurs outside the window, until I’m thrown against the windshield from the force, causing me to lose consciousness.

I feel heat rising above me, I feel wet, and I’m in pain. All I can hear is the faint yells, the sound of a fire crackling, and sirens far away. Though I want to open my eyes, it’s impossible. As I slowly drift to silence, I think about Spencer, how he was right and how much I loved him...

[criminalminds4days]

Family Matters | Chapter 8: First Time

Warnings: Swearing, sexual references, violence and murder references, public embarrassment, and very bad jokes!

Word Count: 2.8k

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tag list: @mcntsee @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel @evelyncade @haylaansmi @paulaern @myfandomlife-blog​

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(This gif is not mine)

Chapter 8: First Time

It is time to reveal the first meeting between the shy doctor and his new, very clumsy girlfriend.

Why is this the time, you may ask?

Well, because,  what better way to intrigue the reader than by leaving the couple in newfound happiness without delivering the details of the said night. As well as provide a title that could reference the event and/or have it mean something completely different.

Not to worry, the awaited next morning shall be given in the next chapter.

Without any more delay, please enjoy the individual perspective of the first time they saw each other.

She took a deep breath as the elevator doors opened for the first time, leading her to what was bound to be her new workplace. She smiled politely at all the people she encountered in her short walk and as soon as she reached the glass doors she froze.

How had she made it this far? What if she wasn't good enough? What if the whole room hated her and she was just a horrible profiler and got fired on day two?

No, she was good enough otherwise she wouldn't be here. That was easier said than believed. She gathered the courage she needed and pushed the door, only to be greeted with it being stuck. She continued putting force, hoping it would decide to open before someone noticed her struggling, but it was too late for that.

"It's a pull, not a push." A deep voice said, behind her. She turned to see a dark-skinned tall man with no hair and very full eyebrows. He was wearing a black T-shirt that made his obvious muscles stand out. He wore black pants and dress shoes and a gun was holstered to his side. He was cute! Not that she had the time for dating, she didn't want a repeat of last year.

Instead of commenting on his appearance or flirting, she decided to pull the door, and would you know? It was suddenly unstuck. "I knew it wasn't stuck, I was just making sure it was strong enough."

The man chuckled, followed by a "sure," that wasn't even trying to sound convincing.

She made her way inside the bullpen, looking for her new boss, Aaron Hotchner's office. As she approached said room, a group of desks with only one person sitting caught her eye. She debated whether to approach but she could feel the man from earlier staring at her and decided not to. As soon as she met with agent Hotch, as he asked her to refer to him as, they were called for a case and she was in the meeting room for the first time, sitting as far away from everyone as possible.

"Everyone, before we start I want to introduce you to our new Agent," Hotch said, as he referred to the woman. She stood and waved. "This is our team, Derek Morgan," he said pointing at the man from earlier, he winked at her knowingly and she simply smiled, already wishing to leave. "This is Jennifer Jareau, Emily Prentiss, David Rossi-"

"DAVID ROSSI?!" Her voice echoed through the room and she instantly felt embarrassment settle in. "I am so sorry, I'm such a fan. You must get that a lot, sorry."

She looked at the members she had been introduced to, Jennifer Jareau was wearing a striped dress shirt and dress pants, her blonde hair was left down and her blue eyes looked amused. Emily Prentiss wore her black hair in a low ponytail, a pink shirt, and black pants, she also seemed to be having a good time at her expense.

The man whose books she had in paperback, hardcover and audible, simply chuckled as if his only feeling was amusement. His hair was short and he had a lock beard look going on, a black suit with a matching red tie a clearly expensive watch on his wrist, he basically smelled like money.

"As I was saying," continued Hotch, adjusting the blue tie of his seemingly very expensive suit, a white dress shirt underneath. "This is Penelope Garcia, our Tech analyst, and Dr. Spencer Reid." She looked at the last two members and for the first time, she saw people like her. Although all the members introduced prior seemed like good people, they also seemed so professional, like they knew what they were doing and when to get their hands dirty. The remaining two, seemed younger, like how they presented themselves to the world was the same whether they were on the job as it was in their spare time.

Penelope had a beautiful rainbow dress, her blonde hair with a lot of volume and pins stuck all over, although she didn't like cats, she adored the woman's cat-themed glasses, and deep down she was a sucker for glitter. Spencer, the other doctor in the room, was wearing a white shirt underneath the comfiest looking red sweater she had ever seen. It was weird seeing someone wearing a sweater in the middle of the summer, but hey, who was she to judge? His hair was lazily pushed back and his curls were so pretty! How do you get curls that pretty?! Not to mention he was good looking, a defined jawline, and those brown eyes could melt her any time he wanted.

There she was, thinking things she shouldn't of yet another coworker. "It is a pleasure to meet you all." She took her seat again and Penelope began presenting the case.

As they were brainstorming, she had finally felt confident enough to suggest something, only to find herself interrupted by Spencer Reid. "Nu-uh bruh, I know you didn't just interrupt me mid-sentence." She spoke, clearly not having it. "I did not work my butt off to make it to the FBI just so that a man who wears sweaters in the middle of July cuts me off on my first day!" All eyes turned to her, perplexed. "I don't know how they do it here in the East Coast but back in the west we let a person finish their sentence." Laughs emerged in the room, and Spencer's eyebrows furrowed, slightly annoyed and very confused.

"I beg your pardon?" The man questioned.

"As you should. My pardon is granted." She turned back and finished her thoughts.

At that moment, unknowingly, she had just put into motion the seed for what would become her and Spencer Reid's relationship. And all the events that followed, her almost-death at the hands of a cult leader, her cool head when proving Morgan's innocence, and the countless times she made sure every single member of her team remained safe while providing them with immense ammunition to laugh when feeling down left an impression. Neither knew it but they were on each other's mind more than they realized. But that's not what you want to hear right now, is it?

After getting on the jet, the seat next to who she believed to be Emily Prentiss was the only one available. She took the seat and the woman gave her a kind smile.

"It wasn't that bad." She assured her.

"I may have just made a really bad first impression."

"You didn't, if anything we like you more than before." She followed this by a wink as the team reviewed the case and they took off.

"So, detective Owen is leading this investigation, you guys remember him, correct?" JJ spoke first.

"From the stalker case," Hotch noted.

"Yes." The blonde agreed, "Spence, you remember that case, right?"

"Yes Jennifer, I do." She took a chance by glancing up to find him very flustered at the mention.

"Do you ever talk to, what's her name again... Lila, right? Do you keep in contact with her?" She questioned, an amused smile forming on her face.

"I honestly think we should focus on this particular case." He answered, avoiding the question.

She turned to Emily who shrugged, just as confused as she was. Rossi seemed as lost as the two women, but Morgan and JJ seemed to be having a good time.

After landing and meeting with the local PD, they had begun their investigation, trying to understand this unsub. It had been about twenty-four hours since she had food and her growling stomach wasn't helping anyone.

"How about we go to get some food newbie?" Emily suggested, "I could use some right now."

"Sure."

As they made their way to the first food cart they saw, Emily cursed under her breath. "Fuck, I forgot my purse."

"It's okay, my treat. After all, thanks to you I'm getting food."

"I will pay you back."

"No need." With this said, the two ordered a hot dog and a soda. She should have known better than to do so, as soon after her first bite, the meal decided to find a second home in her shirt. "Oh, come on!"

"That's not good." Emily agreed, "let me run to the hotel, it's two blocks from here, and I'll get you a new shirt."

"You don't need to do that."

"I will be fast, don't worry."

Too late she realized that Emily's purse, which she assumed had her hotel key, was in the office. Nonetheless, the woman returned with a sweater to help her cover the stain. The irony wasn't lost on her, she judged Spencer's sweater-wearing and now she had to do the same.

This was definitely going to be a great day.

*************************************************

Spencer Reid was never one to be noisy, nor the first one to notice people. This often came out as rude and most people believed he thought he was better than them, which was not the case. The truth is that overcoming his addiction had left him drained, the parting of Elle Greenaway, the only woman he could safely admit he loved, and the departure of yet another father figure, Jason Gideon, had made him developed a closed-off personality that prevented him from ever creating attachments to new individuals. Emily Prentiss and David Rossi being the only exceptions.

This is important to know because as the most beautiful woman he had ever seen walked into the bullpen, he tried his hardest to avoid looking up. Granted, it was more for appearance sake than anything, because there was no way he hadn't noticed her. How could he not? She wore a white shirt that was loose enough to give her a sense of floating through the room. He had seen her struggle to open the door, and the interaction she had with Derek Morgan and knew if he made a move the Doctor would have no chance. Not that he wanted one, he didn't even know her name.

He saw her walk towards Aaron Hotchner's office and any possibility that might have crossed his mind had been completely shattered. She would be his teammate, and fraternization was not allowed within the same unit. Again, that was just stating the facts, because he wouldn't even consider entering a romantic relationship. It was true that he had kissed more girls in the last two years than he had done in the last twenty-six years of his life, but that didn't mean he was a player, or that he would try to get in the new agents' pants.

After discussing these same things with himself he was called into the bullpen and knew they would be introduced to the new girl. He fixed his sweater and rubbed his hands clearing the sweat that had accumulated.

"You okay, Spence?"

"Yeah, why?"

"You seem a little nervous."

"I haven't had enough coffee, is all."

"Well, how could you? Your drinks are basically liquid sugar."

"It's not that bad JJ." They both reached the room in which they held their round table and sat next to each other.

Slowly, the room filled with the rest of the team and lastly by their Unit Chief and the new member. She was introduced to all of them and he couldn't help but notice how her hands seemed so shaky and her cheeks were flushed. He took his view from her and attempted to concentrate on the case. When he finally found himself in the zone was when his biggest mistake occurred.

"If you look at the scar marks though it seems-" Before he could continue, the girl he had just interrupted had cut him off.

She made sure to set him straight and he looked up just in time to hear her mention his summer-sweater wearing and feel completely embarrassed.

"I beg your pardon?" He said a little annoyed. Sure, it wasn't correct to interrupt her, but bringing his sweater tendencies was not polite. She took his words as an actual apology whether he intended it that way or not (which he didn't) and continued.

The memory would forever be engraved in his brain, he knew that were the little things that made having an eidetic memory, not such a great perk. So, as they sat in the jet he avoided all eye contact.

How could never look her in the eye without remembering their first real interaction, and he was sure she would not want to actually have a conversation with a guy that had come off as dismissive on her first day.

He would have overthought the whole situation if it hadn't been for JJ reminding him of his first 'fling' as the team often referred to it. Lila had been an actress they had protected from a stalker, and Reid couldn't help but fall for her charms. They hadn't talked in a while, mostly because he knew dating someone you barely knew was hard enough, but doing it when the two of you lived on the other side of the country was even worse.

He made sure to try and forget the mentioned girl and the incident with the new agent as he fixed his bed space. Sleeping in hotel rooms made him very uncomfortable, knowing all the germs that could possibly inhabit every single inch, but he loved his job, so with a few accommodations, he got through it.

"More sweaters pretty boy?" Morgan said, taking one out of his go-bag. "How did it go, ah yes: I did not work my butt off to make it to the FBI just so that a man who wears sweaters in the middle of July cuts me off on my first day!"

"Please stop, it's bad enough I will forever have that memory seared in my brain. She probably thinks I'm a douchebag."

"She probably does." His roommate teased. "But don't worry, she'll come around, now, let's go. We have work to do."

Morgan threw the sweater onto his bed and the two made their way to the local police station. They spent about five hours trying to come up with a preliminary profile, hoping this would give them the insight they needed to determine the importance of victimology, and possible help with a geographical profile by letting them know if there had been missing person's reports or bodies of people that fit that general victimology. After that time Emily and the new girl decided to go get food. He was hungry too but decided against going with them because he didn't think he would be well received.

After about half an hour, the pair returned and the girl was wearing a sweater that very clearly resembled the one Morgan had left on his bed earlier that day. He didn't think much of it until they returned to their hotel room and said clothing item was nowhere to be found.

"How on earth does a sweater just disappear? We had a do not disturb sign up, there is no way housekeeping would come in." Morgan said as they both looked for it.

At this point, Spencer knew why he wouldn't find his sweater, but decided to remain silent. How could he ask her politely to return it? And more importantly, why was she wearing it? How did she get a hold of it?

He never really got an answer to these questions, as they were not really friends, and he didn't feel comfortable asking about it. She had worn it a couple of times, including during their kidnapping, it seemed rather odd to bring it up then. "Hey, I know we might die, but I just have to know: How did you get my sweater?" was probably not going to cut it. So he let her keep it, and eventually, while the memory was still engraved in his brain, it became less relevant. That was, until the next morning of their shared night, when he saw said sweater very visibly hanging on her closet door and decided to try it on and see if it still fit.

[originofjaehyun]

Interlude: No More Drama | Part 1 | Elevator (127F)

Interlude: No More Drama Masterlist

Word count: 2,180

Warnings: Suggestive, cigarettes, and it gets pretty hot passionate towards the end lol. Plus, I didn’t proofread this.

Part 1 | Elevator (127F)

“Can’t take it anymore, just follow me”

Next

“Cheers to the happy couple!”

Soojung raised her glass high, followed by your friends and of course you. Hanbyul and Mingyu, your highschool (best) friend, have been dating for years and after constant whining from the rest of the gang, they have finally become husband and wife last week.

You weren’t feeling it that night though, for one reason to another. You decided to come because Hanbyul has been your best friend as far as you can remember, and bailing the night out is definitely not an option for you. You raised your G&T as the other follows with the same drinks.

“To a happy marriage!” Soyou continues.

“To a happy marriage!” the rest follows.

You drink the liquid on your glass, regretting that you actually participated on the cheers when it is your third glass of G&T, after two shots of tequila and a glass of wine. You drink with your eyes wide open when you locked gaze with a man just across your table that happens to sip a drink that coincidentally at the same time with you. You are tipsy, that you are aware, as you tried to make a guess on what drink he’s been holding. From the color, it is probably a whiskey highball, but you decided not to attempt on making any more guesses as your vision went blur and you started to talk nonsense, saying how much you love the couple.

You are able to hold your drink, but Soyou, who is self-proclaimed the event organizer for the night determined that the night is still young as she suddenly brought another bottle of gin. Your drinking resume has been quite clean, and this night is definitely not that night where you want to ruin it.

“Where are you going?” Hanbyul asked you, as you briskly tried to leave the place without spoiling the mood. Everybody is queuing as they wait for their turn to pour their serving of gin.

“Cigarette break, I felt quite tipsy already. I’ll come back when I sobered up.”

“You definitely not going back home sober, my dear friend.” She retaliates. 

You laughed, “More like I can’t, Hanbyul. I know by the time I came back you’re going to fill my glass to the brim.”

“But another gulp of alcohol would force me to vomit everything out. So I’ll pause for a bit. I’ll be back soon.”

You brought your phone and your pack cigarette. You walked towards the balcony, and you regret your choice of clothing immediately. It was one of the nicest bars in Seoul, where it is located on a rooftop at one of the high-rises in the middle of the city. You can practically see the skyline of the city from here, and for that reason, Soyou booked the party here because she said there’s no way we’re celebrating this big of a celebration at some mediocre bar. Semi-formal attire is needed if you want to enter the bar, so you decided to wear a black halter top that leaves a one-third part of your back exposed, paired them with white cigarette trousers and a pair of black mules. The wind at this height is really harsh, but you really need a fresh breeze anyway. 

You tucked your phone on one of the pockets of your trousers, slip the white stick in-between your lips as you franticly tried to find your lighter that is nowhere to be found. You must’ve left them in your bag and now you have to walk all the way back to your table.

“Looking for a lighter?”

The owner of the voice standing right next to you, with a lighter on his hand. His voice was deep and velvety, like a rich and smooth hot chocolate. 

“Oh!” You flinched because you didn’t realize a figure was there next to you.

“Actually, yes. Thanks.” You took the lighter out of his hand, as you flick it and revealed the color of amber.

He chuckled, revealing dimples on both of his cheeks, enough to make your heart flutter. He dressed up very neatly, a high profile, you must say, so him having a set of dimples that are so adorable is definitely unexpected. “No problem.”

He took back the lighter as you returned it to him, while he took his own cigarette out of his jacket and light up the white stick and puffed out smokes out of his lips.

Fuck, that’s hot. You thought to yourself.

“Sorry?” He said while taking the stick out of his mouth with his index and middle fingers.

Realized you probably blurted the words out instead of keeping it inside your brain, you inhaled your cigs, making a few seconds of silence. “Oh, nothing.” You lied, as you don’t want to come off as a flirty woman that flirts with anyone. Though you know he would probably hear of those words millions time already. He might not be the hottest person in the world, but he is most definitely the most attractive man you’ve ever encountered. 

“I swear I thought I heard you said ‘Fuck, that’s hot’. Am I hearing things?” He repeated your words. As he saw your ears turned bright red, he knows he’s not just hearing things. He lets out a devilish smirk. “Is that for me?”

Seeing there’s no way you could escape his teasing, you just admit the truth, “There’s no one else nearby right?” as you take another sip from your cigs.

His eyes widened with your directness. He pushes the smoke away before letting his words out of his mouth. “For the record,” He said while inhaling another sip, “You’re just as hot.”

You felt your face is like on fire. Not sure because of the alcohol that starts to kick in or because a very handsome man just told you that you’re hot. Before you guys could continue to converse, your phone starts to vibrate and you saw your best friend name on the screen.

“Hello?”

“[Y/N]? Where are you?”

“I told you I’m smoking outside. I’ll be there in a minute, I’m halfway done.” As you saw the light is already midway from the cigarette you’re holding.

“Ok, later can you please help me bring Soyou’s bag downstair? She’s so drunk right now and passed out at the toilet. Mingyu and Seojun helped me carried her down, I think Seojun will have to drive her back. The rest are still upstairs, but they’ve been jugging down that fucking bottle of gin like crazy and I think you are the soberest person. At least you picked up my phone.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Hanbyul, I’m this tipsy and I’m the soberest? You better not hire Soyou for the next event you’re going to hold.”

“I know right? There’s no need to rush, finish up your cig. We’re already inside Seojun’s car anyway.”

After saying your goodbye, you took another sip of your cig as the person next to you starts to open up another conversation with you.

“Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, except my friend just passed out.”

“Do you need any help?” He said, genuinely concerned.

You smiled at him, “I’m good, I just need to bring her bag downstairs to the car. Also, didn’t you come here with your friends?”

“So you were watching me?” He smirked again.

“Well, you hit me first, sir.” you scoffed.

He pushed his cigarette butt to the nearby ashtray, “So I wasn’t wrong when I felt we locked gaze inside. Come on, let me help you out.” as he used his eye gesture to tell you to finish up your cigarette.

You’re a bit iffy with this man. Why would a stranger help you out anyway? You didn’t realize you knotted your brows together.

“I just can’t leave a woman alone, it would leave a bad taste on my mouth. Also, it seems like the rest of your gang are having the best time of their life to give you a helping hand.”

You took a peek inside and confirmed that what he said was true. Soojung and Yerim are already flirting with don’t-know-whos, while Junhoe making sure the table is still occupied while he continues to drink. You couldn’t help but sigh at the sight. 

“Let’s go.” He nods his head at the direction of your table, making sure you followed him.

He told you he would wait in front of the elevator, as you go back to your table to take Soyou’s bag. You told Junhoe briefly what Hanbyul said to you and he just nods in agreement.

His eyes sparkled as he saw you walk, approaching him. That gaze sends a shiver to your spines. 

“All good?”

“Yea, they’re having a blast when their friend is practically blacked out.” You said in a sarcastic tone. Both of you are laughing with your remarks.

Then you saw the buttons are not lighting up, meaning he hasn’t pushed it to make the elevator come and pick you guys up. Maybe he was a bit tipsy too, so he forgot? You thought to yourself while spreads your arms out to push the button. He stopped you before you could.

“Are you having a blast, too?” He asked while holding your hand, and you swore to high heaven it is as seems like he has watched you since the beginning, how you didn’t feel like partying tonight, how off you were during that party.

“It’s my best friend’s wedding celebration, how could I not?” You said, but your tone was contradicting with the sentence. Realizing there’s no point lying to a – technically a stranger you just met, you actually feel liberated to just tell him the truth. “I just don’t feel like partying tonight, but I can’t skip this or else she would kill me.”

“Do you want to have a good time?” He said, straight to your eyes. By then you know exactly what he meant. You weren’t sure, you never did this before. You are always very careful with your previous relationships, making sure you know who the person you’re dating and their background and you’re not the type of person who would freefall without knowing you have a safety net underneath. But somehow, probably the alcohol really pushed a side that even you don’t know, makes you want to taste him back. You give him a nod of approval. He smirked, but you are sure his gaze is able to gobble you up.

“I’m going to press the button and when the elevator comes and it doesn’t feel right, you can push me away.”

He pressed the button and as if he doesn’t want to lose any more second, he pulls you closer to him and kissed you. It was gentle at first, but as the numbers go higher, he got more and more passionate with his kiss. You pulled him closer, as you put both of your hand on his cheek, welcoming every inch of his lips. He knows you want more, and you can feel his tongue starts to slither inside your own, exploring it with all his might. You embraced it, and every time you did you left a small soft moan, enough to make him want you even more. He lowers his hands that were originally on your hips, squeezing your ass, making you moan louder. Not that you care that much, the music was loud enough to cover your moans. There was no one in front of the elevator, it was the peak of the night and all of the attention was to the DJ inside.

You didn’t want to be the only one who feels good, and you started to touch him too. After destroying his well-styled hair, you move your hands down to his pecs, and you can tell he keeps himself fit, as it was rock-solid. As you move your hands lower, you can hear him hissed in pleasure, but refuses to let go of your lips. He wants to consume you and drained every essence of you. Delighted that he feel what you’ve felt, you pressed him closer, pulling the belt on his trousers, ready for more.

Ding!

The sound of the elevator coming separated you. It was an abrupt way to end a kiss and both of you can’t help to giggle. You sound so cute to him, and he gently stroke your head, cleaning up the mess he made to your hair.

“That was awesome.” He said, eyes stare at you lovingly.

“I share the sentiment.” You said as you fix his hair too while waiting for the elevator to open. Once you start walking inside of the elevator, he follows you while chuckling.

“You know, I never learn your name. Mine is Jaehyun, by the way.”

“Don’t you think we messed up the step?” You sneer. “It’s [Y/N].”

Both of you are now inside, and as he about to press the button to the parking lot, he looked at you and you know exactly what he had intended.

“One more time.”

[euphoniumpets]

Nothing is left to say | (3/?)

Prompt: ‘’Everybody is afraid of something, and she will become their fear who they cannot control.’’

Authors Note: Another chapter is out!! Send in an ask of what you think of this series so far! Dylan Sprouse is Elijah Jenkins. also, so sorry for the late update, school as been kicking my butt and this will be a slow burn for diego x reader! 

Warnings: may come up some disturbing scenes in the future chapters such as child abuse, manipulation etc.

Tag list:  @losers-club6 @frantasmic   @guineverebeckilicious  @emma-is-a-nerd  @white-wolf-buckaroo  @irenne-stans​

As you walked towards the yard, cold was greeting you as you shivered a little as the rain poured slightly on top on the black umbrella in your hand. As you letting out a sigh you heard Allison’s soft voice behind you.

‘‘Hey, you’re alright?’‘ Turning your head towards her with a smile. ‘‘As long as I can be,’‘ You replied softly as she nods in understanding. Luther followed shortly after as Allison walked past by you with the urn pressed protectivly into his chest.

‘‘Are we ready to start?’‘ He questioned as you stood in a circle. ‘‘Did something happen?’‘ You heard your mom’s voice as you turned your gaze towards her. A sympathetic expression filled your face when you saw the robotic woman watches you all in confusion.

‘‘Dad died...remember?’‘ Allison asked her slowly. 

‘‘Oh...yes, of course,’‘ You noticed the strange voice from her when she replied. ‘’Is mom okay?’’ You asked them softly with concern. ‘‘Yeah, yeah, she’s fine, she just needs to you know, recharge,’‘ You heard Diego reply as you looked at him uncomfortably.

‘‘Oh,’‘

‘‘Whenever you’re ready, dear boy,’‘ Pogo replied after a long silence. Luther took a deep breath before he begun his speech. You watched him when he pulled off the top of the designed urn.

He flipped the vase over as you watched in disgust when your father’s ashes falling out on the ground. 

‘‘Probably would have been better with some wind...’’ You heard Luther mumble. 

‘‘Does anybody wish to speak?’‘ Pogo asked everyone as he tried to cover the situation. He noticed that nobody wanted to speak as he cleared his throat.

‘‘Very well, In all regards, Sir Reginald Hargreeves made what I am today. For that alone, I shall forever be in his debt. He was my master, and my friend, and I shall miss him very much,’’   

During Pogo’s speech, you couldn’t help but wander back towards Diego’s sentence. 

Did he really did that to you? So that you wouldn’t feel lost or empty. He was really then a horrible father figure. 

‘‘He leaves behind a complicated legacy-’‘

‘‘He was a monster,’‘ Diego interrupted Pogo as everybody looked towards him. You still looked towards your father’s ashes with no emotion as Klaus left out a chuckle.

‘‘He was a bad person and a worse father, the world’s better off without him,’‘ Diego continued.

‘‘Diego,’‘ Allison warned him.

‘‘My name is number two!’‘ He snapped towards her. ‘‘You know why? Because our father couldn’t be bothered to give us actual names. He had mom to do it,’‘ He sneered as Grace lifted her head up towards her name. 

You watched her confused gaze as a sweet sickeningly smile graces over her red lips. ‘’Would anyone like something to eat?’’

‘‘No, it’s alright mom, you don’t have to do that,’‘ Vanya replied softly.

‘‘Look, you wanna pay your respects? Go ahead, but at least be honest about the kind of man he was,’‘ 

‘‘You should be stop talking now,’‘ Luther demanded as he clenched his fists. 

‘‘You know, you of all people should be on my side here, number one,’‘ Diego replied as he turned his gaze towards him. 

‘‘I am warning you,’‘

‘‘After everything he did to you?’‘ Diego questioned him as he took a dangerous step closer to him. You pursed your lips as you watched them nervously. You knew Diego’s temper. And something bad could happen if someone didn’t stop him. 

‘‘He had to ship you a million miles away-’‘

‘‘Diego, stop talking-’‘

‘‘- That’s how much he couldn’t stand the sight of you!’‘ Diego responded as he pointed towards him. In a blink of an eye the two humans were on each others throats.

 ‘‘Boys, stop this at once!’‘ Pogo’s tired pleas as you felt the tug on your sweater, you turned around confused when you saw Klaus holwind slightly on you and Five, dragging you two like an overprotective mother.

You rolled your eyes as you swatted his hand away.

‘‘Come on, big boy,’‘ Diego taunted him.

‘‘Stop it!’‘ You heard Vanya’s cries. 

‘‘Hit him! Hit him!’‘ Klaus yells through his cigarette in his mouth. You rolled your eyes as you nudged him by the welbow, giving him a warning as you looked back towards Diego. 

‘‘We don’t have time for this,’‘ Five groans as he stood up and left. Diego rolls out of the way as he avoideed Luther’s swings as it landed directly towards Ben’s statue. 

‘‘And there goes Ben’s statue,’‘ Allison commented as she sighed before she went back inside. 

‘‘Diego, no!’‘ You turned your head when you saw Diego holding a knife. Before everyone else could react, he threw the blade towards Luther as it cut his skin and everybody falls silent. 

You watched Luther walks away with his hand clutch onto his arm. ‘’You never know when to stop, do you?’’ You heard Vanya question him. 

‘‘You got enough material for your sequel, yet?’‘ He chuckled bitterly. 

‘‘He was my father too...’‘ Vanya replied softly as she left. You stood outside with the umbrella in your hand as the only thing you could heard was the pouring rain. 

You looked towards him with a dissapointed expression on your head before you shook it and followed after Vanya. Diego soon followed shortly as Klaus was the only one left. 

-

You heard a slight knock on your door as you turned around as you saw Vanya. ‘’Hey, you’re ready?’’ She asked you as you nodded. 

‘‘Yeah,’‘ You followed after her before you took a final look on your childhood room before walking downstairs. You saw Pogo approaching the two of you. 

‘‘Hey, we were just leaving,’‘ She replied as Pogo looked between of you. 

‘‘You’re leaving so soon?’‘ He questioned you as you smiled. 

‘‘Yeah, I only got one day off from work tomorrow’s shift,’‘ You responded him as you watched Pogo give you two a sympathetic smile. 

‘‘Of course, I understand,’‘ With that, you two said your goodbyes and left the mansion. 

-

you were glad that you left the childhood mansion that you used to live in. but you weren’t happy over how that you needed to work in a twenty-four hour shift in the hospital. you had enough of family drama and here you were, in your work place and ate a late dinner before you did your last assignment before going home. 

you didn’t had many friends or wasn’t friendly with most of your co-workers. you were too shy sometimes and wasn’t  outspoken. you liked being alone. Letting out a satisfaction sigh, you started to change your clothes and pack your belongings.

‘‘Hey, heading out already?’‘ Lilly asked when you walked through the counter. ‘‘Yeah, thank god, we see each other soon, yeah?’‘ you replied before you walked out of the hospital. 

-

you fiddeled with the keys when you opened the door with your shared apartment with vanya. when you walked inside, you heard vanya’s voice talking with someone. it tooka few minutes that she wasn’t alone. ‘’vanya?’’ you wondered when you opened the door wide. 

vanya turned around and you widened your eyes when you saw five. ‘’five? what are you doing here?’’ vanya glanced towards five with a nervous expression. ‘’close the door y/n, you probably needs to hear this too,’’ 

‘‘he climbed through the window,’‘ vanya answered your question. 

as you obeyed, you placed your bag on the floor and sat on the couch next to vanya. you were confused of what was going on.

‘‘not important,’‘ he quickly replied. ‘‘i’ve decided that you two are the only ones i trust,’‘ with furrowed brows you quickly asked him; ‘‘why us?’‘ 

‘‘because you two are ordinary,’‘ he retorted back simply. 

blinking, you noticed the blood that was coming from five. ‘’vanya, can you take the aid kit?’’ she nodded quickly before she left the room. 

‘‘you can tell us what’s on your mind while i take care of your wound, ok?’‘ you replied as you smiled gratefully towards vanya. you took the first aid kit as you helped five roll up his sleeve. 

he winces in pain and your eyes widened towards the wound. vanya let out a breath uncomfortable towards the sight. you asked for the disinfectant as you softly gentle wipe away the wound, cleaning off the drying blood as best as you can. 

‘‘when i jumped in the future - do you know what i found?’‘ he began to tell as you and vanya met his eyes.

‘‘what?’‘ vanya questioned him.

‘‘nothing,’‘ turning up, you looked at five with a concerned expression.

‘‘as far as i could tell, i was the last person left alive,’‘

‘‘i never figured what killed the human race but i did find something else... the date when it happens,’‘ 

‘‘the world ends in eight days and i have no idea how to stop it,’‘ 

[queenjunoking]

The Stalker Pt 2

CW: Stalking, Voyeurism

“It just feels like someone is watching me sometimes.” Melody sighed and leaned against the counter.

“I mean, we all kind of feel like that sometimes. You live alone so it makes sense you’re a bit more on guard, right?” Emily asked as she finished making a cup of coffee. She looked at the name again before placing it on the edge of the counter. “Alan? Your coffee is ready.”

The conversation paused for a moment while the man walked up to get his coffee and left the shop. The day had been usually slow. Normally the morning was busy with people coming in for their drinks or sitting around tapping away at their computers while they had their cups refilled for a few hours.

“I guess.” Melody picked up a cup of hot chocolate she made for herself and took a sip. “I just feel like things were moved in my apartment the other day.”

“You showed me the pictures Mel, I’m sorry but I couldn’t see any difference.” Emily shrugged and tried to give Melody a sympathetic smile. She wasn’t quite sure what to say at this point. Melody was positive someone had been in her apartment the other day but despite looking around the place with her, she didn’t notice anything out of place. Emily was about to say something when the bell by the door rang out.

Melody answered automatically, it was starting to become a concerning Pavlov response.“Welcome to the Bean Brew Bar, how can I help you?”

A small woman approached the bar. She had short black hair and blue eyes. She was wearing jean shorts, a plain white t-shirt and a newsboy hat. She was carrying a camera bag with her, probably a tourist taking in the sights. It was a common sight for Melody, the coffee shop was near the lake so they got a lot of sightseers.

Scout looked around the place. She had come in here before on a day that Melody had off. Luckily her coworker hadn’t been working that day either, it just made today easier. She hated being recognized, it’s why she was constantly changing her appearance.

“Can I ask what you’re drinking?” Scout asked, tilting her head a bit.

It caught Melody off guard. She had forgotten that she was still holding it. “Oh. It’s a spiced hot chocolate blend. It’s not something we normally offer, it’s something I put together myself. But if you want to try it I can just charge you the normal hot chocolate price for it.”

“Sure, that sounds great.” Scout looked into the case showing off the various baked goods. “Do you have a recommendation for something to snack on?”

“I like a lot of things here, but I like the cinnamon apple muffins personally. Before I worked here I used to come in here for one almost every morning.” Melody smiled at Scout. There wasn’t anything really strange about the woman’s requests, but something about her seemed a bit off.

Melody decided to just push away those feelings for the moment and just finish the order. “Can I get a name?” She asked like there were other people in the coffee shop that her order could get confused with.

“Sandra.” Scout said as she left the counter, leaving a few bills behind to cover the cost of her breakfast. She always tried to choose common names, it helped her stick out less. People remembered strange names and Scout did everything she could to not stick out.

Melody watched her go sit at a table in the corner and pull out a small tablet. On one hand someone was finally in the shop, but somehow just having one person here felt weirder than having no one here.

“Have you considered that maybe your landlord just entered without permission? There are a lot of crappy ones in this city that don’t follow the law unfortunately.” Melody resisted the urge to sigh. Emily was just trying to be helpful, but the suggestions just kind of made her feel worse.

“I don’t exactly have the best relationship with Shirley, but I doubt she’s coming into my-” Melody was cut off again by the bell by the door. “Welcome to the Bean Bre- oh, Brad. What do you want?”

The air in the coffee shop changed as a man walked in. Short blond hair, white pressed shirt, and khakis. All three women looked at him as he walked in.

“Hey, Melody. I couldn’t help but notice that you hadn’t called me yet. Not ever a text.” He leaned over the counter and smiled at Melody. Melody took a few steps back to put some space between them.

“Yeah, that was on purpose. I also didn’t tell you where I worked.” Melody tried to stare him down, but it was like staring at a wall. He was either too oblivious to notice the chill in the room or too much of an asshole to care.

“Ah, yeah. A friend of mine came here the other day. Told me someone worked here that looked like you. I’m glad they were right, I was afraid you might have lost my number or something.” His smile turned into a look of annoyance. “I tried the one you gave me but it seems to be out of service.”

“What do you want, Brad?” The change in tone unnerved Melody. There really wasn’t anyone to help out right now, it was just her and Emily working today.

“I feel like we got off on the wrong foot.”

“Brad, you yelled at a waitress.”

“Look, babe. If she didn’t want to be yelled at, maybe she should have been faster.” Brad stood up straight and crossed his arms, looking down at Melody.

“S-sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Emily tried to butt in, but Brad just tried to brush her off.

“Look, glasses.” Brad said, motioning at her face. “I’m a paying customer. It might be a struggle to find a place to sit right now but I think I’ll take a cup of whatever coffee you recommend and I’ll just sit around awhile. I have nothing better to do. I can just sit here all day and chat with Melody.”

He reached for his wallet in his back pocket, but didn’t find it. He quickly pat himself down, checking his other pockets and not finding it.

“So you aren’t a paying customer then.” Scout asked, interrupting the conversation. She surprised all three of them, last they took notice with her she was at a table in the corner. Now she was taking a bite out of the muffin that had been left on the counter. Brad was about to say something, but Scout interrupted him before he could speak. “Gotta be careful when you lose a wallet. People will steal your cards and such. Identity theft is a big problem these days.”

Brad scowled at her, but turned to leave. “I’ll be back later when I find my wallet. I’m sure it's around here somewhere.”

The bell by the door jingled as he left, leaving the three alone. The shop was quiet as Melody went back to preparing Scout’s drink.

“He seems like a prize.” Scout said, breaking the silence. Melody looked upset while Emily seemed anxious.

“A date set up by friends gone wrong.” Melody finally answered as she placed the drink in front of Scout. “Not particularly good friends if they thought that guy was any good.”

Scout took a sip of the hot chocolate, it was surprisingly good. She pulled Brad’s wallet out of her camera bag and removed five twenty dollar bills, stuffing them into the tip jar.

“This is good, any chance I can get the recipe?”

{&}

Scout left the coffee shop after Melody wrote down the ingredients on the back of her receipt. Melody also made her promise to turn in the “lost” wallet to the police. It didn’t stop her from accepting the money from it of course. All and all it had been a successful outing, even if it had been short.

Alice was a fickle person and if Scout wanted to stay in her good graces she had to get her more interesting things that another person couldn’t get her. She managed to get the recipe for a hot chocolate blend that Melody made herself, as well as knowledge of the muffin that Melody liked enough to visit the coffee shop for on a consistent basis before she was hired.

Little was too much for her clients, though getting close to a target like that was always risky. Melody knew what she looked like now, so she’d be changing up her look tonight. Hair dye, a slightly different style and probably some contacts. Scout had never been recognized when she didn’t want to be, but she wasn’t going to risk Melody noticing her around. After dropping such a large tip that she had gotten from pickpocketing that douchebag, Melody would probably remember her.

She’d send the recipe and muffin information to Alice’s butler tonight. Hopefully it would tide Alice over since she wasn’t going to be taking pictures of Melody tonight. No, there was something much more pressing now. Unfortunately that thing was Brad.

She had recorded the confrontation between Brad and Melody on her tablet up until she knew she had to step between them. Brad staying in the shop for the rest of the day would have screwed up everyone’s plans.

She also knew Alice would be unhappy that someone was acting like that towards Melody.

She followed him as he retraced his steps, desperately looking for his lost wallet. I sat at a table outside another cafe and sipped on a lemonade as I watched him yell into his phone for a while. I expected him to have his own car to drive, but it seemed that he got a ride share here. There was a lot of talk about having the driver arrested for stealing his wallet and calling the company of the app to have him fired and such. Empty threats of course, he didn’t seem like the type who would have the patience to sit around on hold as they waited to talk to someone about what they claimed happened.

Scout riffled through the wallet, looking for anything interesting. The cards and driver’s license would probably be enough to get into his accounts. She took a picture of his license and sent it off to an information broker she was close with. She usually preferred to do this herself, but she had a lot to do today. The small fee she paid to the broker would probably be dwarfed by what Alice would pay for his file.

The hike that she spent the rest of the day on was as exhausting as it was annoying. She followed him to a restaurant where he met up with some of his friends. Making them pay for his meal of course. Though she wasn’t sure if he would have paid for it even if he had his wallet.

After hanging out there for far too long they split up, promising to meet for drinks later tonight. He took the long walk home and stayed inside for a few hours. Home was always one of the most important things to know. I got a message from the information broker saying that he lived in the penthouse. Unsurprisingly it was his father that paid for it.

The time he spent inside just gave Scout time to make some laps around the building. There was an underground parking lot and two main entrances to the building. It didn’t have spectacular surveillance, but living in the penthouse caused problems.

It wasn’t worth trying to break into his apartment. There was something better she could do instead. She waited across the street, nursing a cup of coffee at some high end coffee shop until it was almost time for him to leave to meet his friends. She left a generous tip before she went back across the street and waited by the crosswalk.

He had planned on meeting up with his friends at some college bar, he would have to go this way to get there. After ten minutes of awkwardly waiting by the crosswalk he emerged from his apartment building.

Just like she planned, he was walking towards her. She made sure to stay a few steps away as he approached the crowd that was waiting for the lights to change. She circled around him and spied his phone peeking out of his pocket on the right.

She followed along with the crowd for another two blocks before she went for it. He stopped to cross a street and she carefully plucked the phone out of his pocket. She just kept walking across the street, heading away from him.

Soon she’d have everything she’d need. The broker would have his life story, the phone would have his schedules and Alice would be paying her a fortune for all of this information.

If Brad wasn’t such a douchebag she’d almost feel bad that he alone would probably be paying for her new house. Though, he’d probably be very sorry for how he lived his life very soon.

He’d be lucky if he made it home tonight.