23rd floor

{PART 3} I Won’t Stop You // Jeon Jungkook, Vampire!AU

Originally posted by jengkook

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, Fantasy, Angst, Smut

Summary; Thinking that you’re about to be fired, you start panicking about how you’ll survive with no job. Jungkook still can’t answer the many questions he has about you - and he questions himself in turn.

{Part 1} {Part 2} {Part 3} {Part 4}

I update this series every Tuesday evening, 9pm-10pm (UK Time)

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“Ugh you!”| One - Shot

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook & Reader 

Genre: Fluff and Humor

Warning: Contains Swear words

Word Count: 481

Description: You and Jungkook are coworkers at a computer business. You go into an elevator and see Jungkook walking up to the elevator. As you press the ‘CLOSE DOOR’ button, Jungkook see it. What happens afterwards?

{A/N: If you guys want a part two, maybe I could make a part two for this? I don’t know give me your feedback! :) I’ll see what I can do!}

Originally posted by jeonify

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{Part 2} Memorable Tattoo // Im Jaebum AU! (M)

Originally posted by jaebeom-s

Pairing: Jaebum x Reader

Genre: Smut, fluff

A/N: This is the 2nd, final part to Memorable Tattoo Part 1 which I suggest you read before you read this, if you haven’t already c: Thank you!

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Meet Cute

Author: SaffreeLove

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Warnings: swearing, mention of thigh riding

Word Count: 906

Tagging @emilyevanston who is super awesome and gave me a great confidence boost that led to me actually publishing this and not leaving it on my drive for another few months.


You loved your local Comic Con. Four full days of letting your geek flag fly. Sitting in a huge conference hall with a thousand other fans dying over a new movie trailer or cast interviews.
Since you were a huge geek for Marvel and in particular the Winter Soldier, you were naturally rocking your Winter Soldier gear.

After an awesome day of panels and people watching you head back to your hotel. While waiting for the elevator to ascend from the lower lobby, you started checking your phone for tumblr and Instagram updates.

When the door opened, you stepped into the elevator, glancing up as you did. Somehow, your feet kept moving even though your breathing had come to a stuttering halt. With a small gasp, your head snapped forward to face the now closing doors. You stood there for about 20 seconds with the elevator not moving.

“Um, what floor did you need?”

Unable to speak in anything but squeaks, you leaned forward with a shaky hand to push the button for the 23rd floor. You could feel your heart attempting to beat its way out of your chest while a small tear threatened to leak out of the corner of your eye.

Sebastian Stan was standing in the elevator with you. Right there. Breathing the same air. And…….there was no way you were going to speak to him. This was something you had always promised yourself. This was his off time. He wasn’t working in this elevator. At a panel? Sure. At the meeting and greet? Of course. At the photo ops? Natch. But here on an elevator, when he’s likely heading back to his room after a long day of fan interactions? No fucking way. You were just going to have to hold on to your principles and cry later in your room about the amazing way he smelled. Oh shit, he really smelled good.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Yup, that’s it. Your mind couldn’t take it. It had cracked. You’re now hallucinating Seb talking to you.

“Hey, look. I’m pretty sure you know who I am. How about a picture? Or I could sign something? Would that make you feel better?”

Oh, and now you’ve died. That was the only explanation. Great. Your parents were going to be devastated. Your head turned slightly toward him. His whole body was angled at you with a look of sincere concern on his face. Holy shit. He had actually been talking to you. That hadn’t been your overactive imagination constructing some elaborate hallucination.

Finally coming to your senses, you shook your head and whispered, “No,” while your inner bitch cursed yourself out in three languages.

“Really? You sure? Cause I’m pretty sure that’s a Winter Soldier hoodie you’re wearing and I am, in fact, said Winter Soldier.”

Blushing, you shake your head again, take a steadying breath, and fully turn to look at him.

“You’re off the clock. I would never ask for that while you’re just going about trying to live your life. You are probably tired as shit after today and just want to fall into your hotel room. Not get accosted by overexcited fans.”

“Wow. I’ve never had anyone reject me quite like that before,” he said. Being so freaked out, you completely missed his smirk indicating he was teasing.

“What?!” you practically shouted. “Oh no, please don’t think I’m rejecting you! Believe me, I wouldn’t kick you outta bed for eating crackers. I mean, you’re you. You’re goofy and dorky and hot as fucking sin with those abs and chest and shoulders and thighs that are perfect for riding and face that just begs for kisses.”

You freeze when you realize what word vomit had just gushed out of your mouth. Even more heat flooded your face and neck.

“Ohmigod. I can’t believe I went there. I actually took it that direction. That’s not what you meant. Oh shit. Look, I’m just gonna be over here in the corner sinking into a shame spiral. Feel free to fully ignore me until we get to your floor, or any floor, if you need to escape the incredibly uncomfortable situation I’ve just created.”

Turning to the corner, you lightly thunk your head against the elevator wall. How could you have done this? The one person you had sworn to never make uncomfortable, you just accidentally insulted and then rambled about riding his thigh. Your chest ached when you realized that you were going to have to abandon your plan of going to his photo op tomorrow. No way could you show up there now. He obviously hates you and will be telling security to watch out for the crazy Winter Soldier fan.

Suddenly, you notice that Seb is laughing. You turn your head to look at him. He has the biggest grin on his face and maybe a touch of interest in his eyes.

“Are you doing anything right now? If not, wanna join me for some dinner?”

“What?”

“Dinner. You hungry?”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, how about it?”

“But, I’m a fan. Shouldn’t you be worried about, I don’t know stalkers or something like that?”

“Well, judging from that little rant about me being off the clock I’d say you are probably that safest fan I could possibly be with, ever. So, dinner?”

“Umm, yes? How is that even a question?”

With that, the elevator doors opened you stepped out together.


Part 2

office au

requested by anon. i realized after writing this that you asked for them pranking other floors, not each other. oops! if you want another au, just let me know. :)

D.Store, Inc., 23rd Floor Directory

Park Jin-woo  —  Project Manager, ext. 315
Kim Myung-jun  —  Communications Specialist, ext. 305
Lee Dong-min  —  Compliance Manager, ext. 330
Moon Bin  —  Applications Specialist, ext. 126
Park Min-hyuk  —  Procurement Services Coordinator, ext. 225
Oh no, San-ya! —  Intern, ext. 321

JinJin works on the 23rd floor of D.Store, Inc.’s main office in Gangnam. His job title is officially Project Manager, but his actual job is just to take project details from the Boss and make sure everything gets done right. It’s more about delegating than managing. His “office” is just a slightly larger cubicle next to a window, but it’s not like he has a door or walls or anything else to keep the others from rearranging the keys on his keyboard or redecorating his desk with dozens of pictures of Seongwoo from Accounting. Though Moonbin blames JinJin for starting the infamous 23rd floor prank war, JinJin denies being the instigator.

MJ spends as much time in the break room as he does at his desk, but he somehow manages to always get his work done on time (JinJin suspects MJ is somehow bribing the intern, a.k.a., Sanha, to do the work, but he has no proof). In addition to being known around the office as the King of Ugly Ties, MJ also claims responsibility for the fire alarm that saved them all from last month’s Meeting with the Bosses, which nobody likes to sit through. Only Rocky knows the fire alarm was a complete accident—neither of them expected the copier to start smoking.

Despite looking like the most straight-laced, by-the-book employee ever, Eunwoo spends almost as much time in the break room as MJ. While MJ is usually talking to people, Eunwoo is listening. If there are secrets to be had in the D.Store, Inc.’s main office, Eunwoo is the one to know them. He doesn’t spread any of the gossip, but he does use what he knows to his advantage—like the time he convinced JinJin to let him into the mail room and help rearrange all of Rocky’s alphabetized boxes or the time he convinced the Rocky to misspell Sanha’s name on the office directory.

In addition to Moonbin’s actual job, he’s also the de facto IT guy for the 23rd floor. It’s not that he knows that much; it’s just that he’s good friends with Suyeon from IT and can get requests through faster. Moonbin rarely meets the office dress code, but JinJin lets it slide because he knows that Moonbin keeps a tie in his drawer and loafers under his desk, just in case the Boss comes down. Moonbin is the only one on the 23rd floor to successfully pull a prank on MJ (who is slyer than he looks). Even MJ had to give Moonbin props for distracting him long enough to turn everything—everything—in his cubicle upside-down.

Rocky’s home on the 23rd floor is the mail room. Even though MJ always calls him “The Mail Guy,” Rocky’s also in charge of managing all sorts of special orders and contracts for projects. He’s never without his headphones and typically can be heard singing under his breath while pushing the mail cart around and dropping off packages. He inadvertently started the prank war by accidentally delivering Moonbin’s case of energy drinks to JinJin’s office. JinJin assumed it was a comment on his slowness and retaliated, and Rocky was too amused at the sight of Moonbin walking around the office barefoot to take responsibility for his initial mistake. He’s still the only one who knows the truth about how things started.

Sanha is the sole intern on D.Store, Inc.’s 23rd floor, though it’s generally understood that he only supports JinJin’s team. As an intern, he does a little bit of everything—or rather, he does whatever he is asked to do. Most of the time, this involves helping JinJin with filing or helping MJ format his reports. (And he has promised JinJin multiple times it’s just formatting, not actually writing them). Sometimes it also involves picking up snacks at the convenience store for Moonbin. And every once in awhile it involves waiting for everyone else to leave for the night and removing parts from Eunwoo’s chair so that it never stays at the right height.

alternateastro | an astro au blog | requests: closed* 

Little Big Secret pt. 3

Masterpost
<– Part 2 | Part 4 –>

Genre: Fluff/Angst (more angst in this part omg)
Warnings: Angst, bashing SM (sorrynotsorry), probably wrong representation of photography industry don’t bash me. 
Pairing: Reader x Yixing/Lay
Wordcount: 2278
A/N: This series is closing in on an end, I’m sorry @oh-beyond for leaving you hanging like this before you leave. Let me know what you think :3

Message me if you want to be on the tag list.


Your pov

*Previously*

“I’m hanging, up this is crazy.” Minseok said.
“No please, don’t. She’s not lying.” Jongdae said, and then he halted, everything was silence. Waiting, thinking, realising.

*Now*

You were silent on the other end of the line, and all the others were too. Eyes on the clock, you counted the seconds, and it took them two whole minutes and a little to reply.
“What?” Someone asked.
“She’s not lying.” Jongdae said again. “Yixing has a girlfriend.”
“You’re joking.”  Someone else said.
Jongdae’s voice was loud and clear now, as if he’d gotten closer to the phone. “I’m not. Her name is y/n, they’ve been dating for a long time.”
“We’re talking about Yixing here, he wouldn’t go against management like that.” “Of course he wouldn’t.” “Jongdae this isn’t funny.” “Minseok just hang up.”
“No, just give me the damn phone.” Jongdae said, and there was a clattering sound on the other end. You didn’t know what to say. Was it a chair. There was lots of rustling, and voice became louder but less audible. Your chest felt tight, and tears were brimming your eyes. You didn’t call them to make them fight. But loud voice on the other hand told you that they already were. More rustling, more shouting, more tears running down your cheeks.
One voice broke the noise. “Hello?” the voice on the other hand was lispy. You didn’t recognise it. “Are you still here?”
“Y-yeah.” You stuttered. “Who is this?”

Originally posted by eunhasmom

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8

“Have some fire. Be unstoppable. Be a force of nature. Be better that anyone here and don’t give a damn about what anyone thinks. There are no teams here. No buddies. You’re on your own. Be on your own.” – Grey’s Anatomy.
INSP

Masks

RWBY Superhero AU Whiterose


The city of Vale.

A glimmering city of beautiful vistas, well known for its sprawling parks and greenery. While not the technological mecca of it’s sister city, Atlas; it’s not without its modern splendors. More than a few highrises dotted the skyline of Vale.

One thing Vale had that Atlas didn’t; and as far as they were concerned Vale could keep, was Cinder.

A villainous woman with the power to summon pitch black monsters with white masks and glowing red eyes known as Grimm. She was far from the only villain to plague Vale, but was indeed the most prolific. The violent faunus gang known as the White Fang and their leader, Adam Taurus certainly tried to give her a run for her money.

Luckily for Vale, they had something else no one else had. Heroes.

Glass shattered, drowning out the screaming of panicking people as a pair of Beowolf grimm crashed through the windows of the 23rd floor of Schnee Energy.

Board members tripped over themselves and each other as they backpedaled away from the looming beasts.

Chairwoman Weiss Schnee jumped to her feet in surprise, turning to face the approaching beasts, surprise morphing into a sneer.

“Cinder,” She growled under her breath as the lithe woman sauntered into the room, flanked by the Grimm.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen.” Cinder smirked, glowing amber eyes casually looking over the rooms other occupants before stopping at Weiss. “Miss Schnee.”

“What do you want?” Weiss glared defiantly at the criminal, even as a single bead of sweat rolled down the back of her neck and her muscles tensed.

Cinder deigned not to answer, instead merely snapped her fingers and one of the beasts lumbered forward, and snatched up the metal case sitting on Weiss’s desk.

“Just needed to pick something up.” Cinder smirked.

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Love You Till the End of Time

Summary: Female Reader is a secret sniper, shadowing the FAHC. What happens when they start dating Ryan without either of them knowing the others secret lives? Also reader and the Fake AH Crew are immortal.

Warnings: sex, talk of murder/actual murder (no gore), swearing.. 

Author’s note: I’ve had this written for a while, I just had to get around to posting it, and figuring how to get the thing that says, ‘keep reading’ because this is a long one. Also Jack is trans in this, and Ray is only in this slightly. Also 10pts. if you catch my Geoff IRL joke, and 14overated pts. if you catch the RVB joke.. :) 

Chapters: 7 - Completed.  

Chapter 1

You were on the roof of a building, staking out the Fake AH. You weren’t there to make any hits, you were just there to cover them. Whether they knew it or not didn’t matter. You were currently following BM Vagabond through your scope, just watching him make a deal with a guy he was talking to. You were too far away from them to get spotted, but your scope had a long enough zoom to be able to see them fine.

You were always intrigued by The Mad King, BM Vagabond, The Mad Mercenary. You’d never seen him without his mask, but you imagined he was handsome. Which if he did take his mask off it would throw people for a loop. Talk on the street was that he wore it to protect his face and shield a scar or some other thing that made his face almost grotesque. But you thought he was handsome, even with the mask on.

By day you were an artist, painting the macabre. It’s a wonder no one ever questioned you. By night you were a sniper. Also side note was that fact that you were immortal, or else you wouldn’t be doing this right now. You would be trying to lead the simplest of lives, but you couldn’t die and it helped when you lived in Los Santos. You listened to your ear piece, having hacked into their frequency. It meant you could hear them but they couldn’t hear you. You silently watched the Vagabond, walk back and forth with the guy. You could see the guy getting impatient and you knew he wasn’t gonna go for it.

You aimed you scope at his head, ready to take him out. You didn’t pull the trigger though, instead you clipped on your red laser beam, and waited for the crew to say something. It was just the Mad King in the room with the guy but you knew Geoff and Jack were somewhere around there, as well as Michael. You still didn’t know Vagabond’s first name, you just knew him by his many street names but you’d always been intrigued with him and the crew.

You figured since you couldn’t see Gavino, he was probably running security and on comms. You slowly exhaled a breath as you heard Vagabond’s voice through your ear piece, “Listen here, you’re gonna take this deal or you’re going down.” He said, his voice icy. You couldn’t hear what the other guy said but then you watched him pull out his gun. He pointed it at the Mad King and you almost felt bad for him. There’s no way he’s gonna live to carry out his action.

You heard Geoff on the ear piece, “You need us to come in?” When you didn’t hear him respond you figured it was a no, as he was currently in a staring match with the guy who held him a gun point. You moved your scope up above Mad King, to see Geoff in the windowed room with his gun drawn, waiting.

You moved back down to focus on the man in front of Mad King when you heard him say, “You really don’t want to do this.” You smirked, that’s what you were waiting for. The guy in front of Mad King tilted his head and cocked his gun. You flicked on your red beam and aimed it at his gun and traveled it slowly down his hand and stopped at his heart. The guy started shaking and looking all around but the Vagabond didn’t move at all. “Damn he’s got a good poker face.” You muttered. The guy dropped his grip on the gun and Vagabond stepped in, taking it from him. He pistol whipped the guy out cold and you shut off your beam. You saw Vagabond turn towards where he thought it came from and he spoke clearly through his ear piece. “Geoff, did you?” “No man, it’s not us.” “Well whoever they are, we should send them a gift basket.” You heard Geoff laugh at this, “Yeah, we should.”

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Fantasies- Ch.1 - Preparation

TITLE OF STORY: Fantasies
CHAPTER NUMBER/TITLE/ONE SHOT: Chapter One
AUTHOR: loveCorrah
WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: The man, himself!
GENRE: romance, smut, angst
FIC SUMMARY: Ava Blaire makes her money by fulfilling men’s fantasies, and she’s damn good at it. One morning, she gets a suspicious call from a mystery woman, that asks for help in making her boyfriend’s ultimate fantasy come true. When she meets the couple, she is more than a little surprised to see who it actually is, and gets swept up into a world that she wasn’t quite prepared for.
RATING: Mature/Explicit
WARNINGS/TRIGGERS/AUTHORS NOTES: Highly explicit story, that will include all types of sex. It revolves around a call-girl, so be prepared for that!
FEEDBACK/COMMENTS: Please, please understand something, you guys, this fic is just for fun! I have nothing against Taylor Swift, it’s just the subject I wanted to write about… I thought it would be a neat base for a story. I don’t really give a shit about who Tom’s with, so don’t get offended by what you may read about their relationship in this story! I have a feeling she won’t be a part of it for very long…  ;-) Also, if you like it, please share!

____________________________________

                           Chapter One

Most romantic stories don’t start out with a call-girl. I mean, other than Pretty Woman, can you name one? A real life one? Me either. This story, however, does start out with a call-girl— me… and it is romantic. I would have never thought that my world would be turned upside down like it was just a few short months ago… and it’s all due to a gentleman. A gentleman and a call-girl… who would have believed it? What… you don’t believe it, either? I’ll tell you my story, our story, up until now… and I truly hope that it will end with a ‘happily ever after.’ I guess we’ll see together, won’t we? 

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Unscripted. [1 of 5]

» Min Yoongi.
» 1 » 2 » 3 » 4 » 5

» Nobody even asked for this but I couldn’t help myself I’m sorry (not really)… I can’t deal with my Yoongi feels. I know I have requests I need to write but when a random burst of inspiration happens, it happens.                                                  

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Mayday Part 3: Easy Rider

You’ve been at the tower three weeks, training and learning to harness your power. Depressed and frustrated, Bucky finds you and sneaks you out for the night.

Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Mental illness, swearing, fluff, eventual violence and some smut. Rated R.

Three weeks later

I was trying to focus, I really was. I had been doing everything Bruce had told me to do. Deep breathing, altering my thought patterns, anger management. I’d been relegated to the same floor of the Avenger’s tower the whole time. Whatever I did on that floor apparently didn’t effect the rest of the building- it was lined almost completely with rubber, forming a barrier. However, I’d caused a couple of brown-outs on floor 23 (my floor) and gone through enough light bulbs to sell out a CVS. I’d also accidentally destroyed my TV. And Bucky’s arm a second time when he’d come to check on my during a particularly bad manic episode.

This particular day, I’d spent the morning in therapy with Bruce, working on harnessing my powers. The afternoon was spent sparring. Tony decided I needed to learn how NOT to get my ass kicked, and so he’d enlisted the whole team to take turns kicking my ass. So far I’d learned a few take down moves from Natasha, though I was never going to be able to to do that thigh choke-hold she was so fond of. After falling on the floor twelve times, she gave up and taught me basic punches instead. Steve had taught me blocking the next day. I felt like I held my own pretty well, considering I was up against a man who could back flip off of airplanes. Sam taught me the most- he was the most normal of all of them, and in his head still had a firm grasp on what an average human could or could not do. I was dreading going up against Thor- what the fuck a God could accidentally do to me freaked me out. Bruce refused, stating that he couldn’t get that amped up or he’d Hulk Smash everything, and Tony had been busy the last few weeks working on a new Iron Man suit. It was Mach 106 or something. Everyone had lost count.

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#10: The Elevator

The rain reached its peak right after I left. It started as a slight drizzle during work, and gradually worsened along the way- the rain drops were practically hitting against the glass windows of the fried chicken joint I was working at. I remembered we had a particularly obese lady waddle into the joint, dripping all over the floor.

‘What the hell, huh, Scott? Any fatter and we’ll have to put her on a diet,’ my co-worker, McDoogle, had commented sarcastically. ‘If there’s anyone who needed to fatten up, it’ll be you, mate. You go any thinner and I’ll have to flash out my magnifier to find you.’

As the night went on, I had prayed for the rain to stop, but God clearly wasn’t listening, because by the time we had closed up, it had become a full-fledged storm out there, and the only thing I had for protection was a dusty black jacket that McDoogle had found in the lost-and-found box. I quickly zipped it on, and went on my way.

I managed to squeeze onto the last bus with the rest of the commuters, mostly well-dressed businessmen with proper coats and gloves, the lucky bastards. Some shot me confused looks as I plopped down onto a seat near the back, and I wouldn’t have blamed them- I stuck out like a sore thumb, a scraggly-haired teenager dressed in nothing but a black jacket and torn jeans, soaked from head to toe. They had probably thought I was a druggie or something, the way I was hunched over in my seat, shivering from the cold.

The crowd of gawking onlookers thankfully thinned as we went on our way, and by the time I had finally reached my stop, there were only three other passengers. I quickly got off, and sighed. I had hoped for the rain to stop, but no chance. If anything, the storm had worsened along the bus ride. Just my luck, I muttered darkly, beginning my long trek back to my dingy apartment. I lived in a small room on the 23rd floor, right at the top of an old, slightly dilapidated building. It wasn’t ideal, having to live about thirty minutes away from the nearest bus-stop, but my meagre salary prevented me from having anything better.

The lobby of the block eloquently reflected the pathetic state of the building- the paint weathered and peeling off in spots, cobwebs hanging off the corners, and the only source of light was a flickering light bulb dangling from a lone wire. I shuddered as I ducked into the lobby, and it wasn’t from the cold- the long, shifting shadows given off by the bulb had always given me the creeps. Luckily, there was an elevator already waiting in the lobby, and I gratefully hurried in and hit the number ‘23’ button, sighing in relief as the elevator vibrated to life and creaked upwards.

As I settled in for the minute long ride up, it suddenly shuddered to a halt and the doors groaned open. A guy, clad in a maroon hoodie, strode in, his wet sneakers and umbrella forming a large puddle where he stood. He pressed the number ‘17’, before turning to nod at me in greeting. I nodded back, and glanced up to the cracked screen in the elevator- a bright green ‘2’ shone out from it.

‘Crazy storm out there, ain’t it?’ He commented.

‘Sure is.’ I replied.

The journey up continued in silence, when the elevator stopped with a soft ‘ding’. I blinked in surprise at the noise- I’d never heard the elevator ‘ding’ before. The landlord must have finally gotten off his lazy, fat ass and fixed something. The doors creaked open, and the maroon guy left.

It took ages for the doors to finally close, and even longer for the elevator to start moving again. I leaned back onto the grimy wall and made a mental note to call the landlord about improving the elevator.

I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew I was half slumped over the rusty railing in the elevator, with drool dripping off the side of my mouth. I quickly straightened up and checked the screen- the number ‘17’ shone out from it, which couldn’t have been correct, because the guy got off at ‘17’ and I clearly remembered the elevator moving off before I’d dozed off. Speaking of dozing off, how long was I out? It couldn’t have been very long- the trip from ‘17’ to ‘23’ would have taken half a minute, at most. I peered out of the grimy windows of the elevator- there was nothing out there of interest, only the occasional metal railings flashing past the window.

I stepped back, and glanced up again. Still ’17’. I forced myself not to panic. There had to be a legitimate explanation for this. I found myself pacing around in the elevator to work off the panic.

I paced. I looked up to the screen. ‘17’.

I paced. I looked up to the screen. ‘17’.

I paced. I looked up to the screen. ‘17’.

With no watch and no phone to tell the time, all I had was the number of rounds I’d walked in the elevator.

Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four.

‘17’.

Fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine.

‘17’.

I was losing it. I could feel the grimy, disgusting walls of the elevator close in, bit by bit, as I continued to pace.

‘17’.

’17.’

‘17.’

I was finishing off my ninety-eighth round when the elevator shuddered to a stop. YES! I hurried over to the doors and stared out the windows.

No. There was nothing but black. 

This isn’t my floor. This isn’t any floor.

I had enough.

‘FUC-‘ I began, when everything happened at once.

The elevator jerked roughly to its side, sending me sprawling onto the floor. The lights flickered twice, before going off with a loud buzz. I was thrown into darkness and before I could get up, the elevator jerked again. It was like the mechanical version of a seizure, only worse. I was flung in all directions across the floor, my body bumping against all four walls as I slid around, uncontrolled.

And then it all stopped.

The lights flickered on and I found myself lying in a heap in the left corner of the elevator, my head pressed up into the corner. Disorientated, I got to my feet. I couldn’t even figure out what I was feeling at the moment. Confusion? Fear? Panic? Pain?

Before I could decide, the doors slid open.

The guy, the same maroon guy, stepped in. Maroon hoodie, wet sneakers, dripping umbrella. The same maroon guy.

I looked up. A green ‘2’ glowed out brightly from the screen.

What the hell?

I looked back down, followed the motion of his finger as he pressed the number ‘17’ button.

‘Crazy storm out there, ain’t it?’

What the hell??

I looked up. The guy was staring at me.

‘What?’ I croaked.

‘Crazy storm. Almost blew my damn umbrella away.’ He chuckled, before squinting at me. ‘You okay?’

I finally found my voice. ‘You came in here just now.’ I replied, my gaze darting from his face, to his maroon hoodie, to his wet sneakers, to his dripping umbrella. This was no mistake. It’s the same exact guy.

I’m losing my mind.

‘What, here? I just got here, man.’ He smiled nervously and stepped back.

I could see him slowly tightening his grip on the handle of his umbrella.

I’m freaking him out.

The very thought made me want to laugh. Me? Freak him out? Hell, I was the one stuck in this goddamn elevator. I should be pissing my pants.

I stepped towards him, my gaze alternating between him and the glowing screen.

‘Woah. Dude. Don’t be weird.’ He wasn’t smiling anymore. He tightened his grip on his umbrella.

The elevator ‘dinged’ and the door behind me opened. I didn’t move. My eyes were fixed on him.

He edged around me. I could see sweat trickling down his face.

‘Don’t come back in here. Whatever you’re doing, you better stop. You better stop.’ I whispered, following behind him, step by step, until I reached the door.

I stayed rooted in the spot, even after the doors closed, my gaze piercing through the window on the door. I wanted to make sure that he left. And he did, scurrying backwards down the corridor.

That’s right. Don’t ever come back.

I glanced up to the screen as soon as the elevator started moving again.

’17.’

’17.’

’18.’

I let out a huge sigh of relief.

Finally.

I continued to stare at the screen, feeling less and less tense as the number continued up as normal.

’19.’ ’20.’ ’21.’ ’22.’

’23.’

I wanted to cry, that’s how relieved I was.

I stepped out through the doors as soon as they opened.

The next thing I knew, I was flying backwards into the elevator, hitting my head, hard onto the wall.

‘Holy shit! Sorry dude, I didn’t see you there.’

That voice.

That fucking voice.

I looked up slowly. From the dripping umbrella, to the wet sneakers, to the maroon hoodie, to the face, to the bright ‘2’ glowing from the screen above.

He did it again.

‘You okay?’ He asked, bending down.

I told you to stay away, you fucker.

‘Hey. You hit your head or something? Shit, I’m sorry.’ He continued.

I’ll make you sorry. You wanna mess with me? I’ll make you sorry.

‘Woah, dude. Quit staring man- don’t be weird.’

I remembered the next few seconds in flashes. I remember lunging at him, snarling and growling. I remember tackling him to the ground. I remember wrestling his umbrella away from him. I remember bringing the umbrella up high. I remember his face, staring up at me in fear and shock, as I brought down the sharp tip of his umbrella down onto his chest.

Once, twice. In, out.

His yelling, gradually reduced to a moan, and then a gurgle.

One, twice. In, out.

His thrashing and fighting, gradually reducing to weak grappling, before he fell limp.

Once, twice. In, out.

His eyes, at first wide open in terror, slowly closing, before it shut.

I continued stabbing long after he stopped breathing.

I had to make sure.

I had to make sure that he didn’t come back.

I won’t have him fucking around with me again.

I heard the doors open behind me. I didn’t know how long it was after I killed the maroon guy. With no watch and no phone, how could I have known?

There was movement behind me.

‘Shit.’ A voice rang out.

It didn’t sound like maroon guy. I smiled.

‘I found him, I found him. Fuck, it’s a mess in here. Level 17, hurry up!’

I removed my gaze from the bloody, misshapen mess infront of me and turned.

‘Don’t move!’

It was a policeman. He had his gun out and pointing right at me.

‘I said don’t move!’

Don’t worry. Nobody was going to mess with anyone. I took care of that. I smiled at him in reassurance.

More and more policemen appeared behind him. One of them prised away the bloody, broken umbrella away, one of them cuffed my hands, and three of them dragged me down the stairs. They didn’t have to be so rough, I wasn’t going to hurt anyone.

When we emerged out of the lobby, I realised it had stopped raining.

An old, balding man in a suit walked up to me, his hand clutching a phone.

‘This him, doc?’ A policemen asked in a gruff voice.

Doctor?

The old man nodded before speaking into the phone. ‘McDoogle here, we found him.’ He tucked the phone back into his pocket before turning back to me. ‘You really gave us quite a scare, Scott, running away like that during kitchen duty.’

McDoogle? Kitchen duty?

And then it all hit me.

Kitchen duty.

The obese lunch lady complaining that I had to eat more, or she would have to ‘flash out her magnifier to find me.’

Stealing the black jacket from the front desk. Putting it on to hide the white uniform below.

The front door letting out a soft ‘ding’ as I slipped through.

Taking the bus back home.

My ward room number.

23-17.

I blinked and turned to McDoogle, my doctor from the mental institute.

And then I fainted.

alone in amsterdam | part one

part two / part three

calum + reader

word count: 960

writing masterlist | request/ask/feedback

summary: you surprise calum while he’s on tour but he’s not very happy to see you

>>>


I could barely contain my excitement as I stepped out of the cab in front of Calum’s hotel. 

I was in Amsterdam to surprise him on tour. I’d saved up for months, juggling as many jobs as I could that summer to pay for my flight there.

I missed him like crazy, and he seemed like he missed me too, despite the fact that he hadn’t texted or called me much since he left. I pinned it on the fact that he hadn’t been feeling well, and decided not to call or text him either in fear of revealing the surprise to him accidentally.

I checked my phone for his hotel information that Luke had given me. Taking a deep breath to calm the butterflies in my stomach, I wheeled my suitcase up to the 23rd floor. 

I walked down the hall, searching for his hotel room. The boys had ensured that he stayed in his hotel room until the show.

When I found the door, I stood in front of it and knocked twice, covering the peephole with my hand in case he decided to look through it before opening the door.

I could hear some shuffling behind it before the door swung open and revealed my boyfriend, scruffy and tired and looking right at me.

“Hi..” I said, grinning. 

“(Y/N)?” His forehead creased in confusion and shock.

When he didn’t say anything else, I took matters into my own hands. I threw myself onto him, hugging him tight. 

He groaned in pain, pushing me off and gripping the side of his head. 

“Oh! Sorry..” I told him. His forehead creased again, but this time, he looked more irritated than confused.

This worried me a little, but I was too happy to be seeing him again that I brushed it off as fatigue.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, still standing in the doorway. I was still outside of his room, but I didn’t want to rush him, seeing as he already looked very ill.

“I wanted to surprise you. I saved up and everything and flew here! ..Surprise..” I said, faltering slightly at the end when I saw he wasn’t very excited to see me.

“Are you okay? The boys told me you weren’t feeling very well..” I said, reaching out to touch his forehead.

He moved out of my reach, which made my heart hurt a little. I couldn’t figure out why he was being so hostile. 

“And yet you still came?” He asked, his voice dripping with annoyance.

“Well, I.. I thought..” I was at a loss for words. This was not how I pictured our reunion to be like. The one in my head involved a lot more kissing.

“You thought you would just come here without telling me?” 

“That’s the whole point of a surprise, Cal. I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“You can’t just spring this on me, (Y/N), you need to ask me first.” He said.

“Cal, it’s not like I’m telling you I’m pregnant or anything, I just wanted to see you because I missed you. Don’t you miss me?” I asked him.

He didn’t answer my question. He simply shook his head. “Go home, (Y/N). This tour was supposed to be so I could spend some time with the boys and do what I love. I didn’t need you to come here and ruin it.” He said bitterly.

I felt tears welling up in my eyes as I processed his words. He didn’t say the exact words, but I knew he meant that this tour was for him to get away from me. Suddenly the lack of texts and calls made sense to me. I took a step back in shock.

Looking up at him, he showed zero signs of remorse for saying all that to me. The eyes I once loved were now filled with annoyance. For me. I’d become one of those girls who pined after the rockstars who would never give them the time of day. 

“If you wanted to get away from me so bad, then why didn’t you just tell me? Break it off before you left for tour?” I cried out, wiping the tears furiously with the back of my hands. “Why would you let me believe that you still wanted to be with me all these months? I planned and I worked so hard to get this flight here just to find out that you want me to go straight home?” I let out a humourless chuckle.

“God, I am so stupid. I actually had this whole scenario planned out in my head too. I would knock on the door, you would open it, see me and lift me in your arms and we’d just.. be happy that we were together again..” I slapped my cheeks angrily. The tears just would not stop flowing and I hated crying so hard in front of him and just having him stand there, watching me break down and not do anything about it.

“Fuck you, Calum.” I said when he didn’t say anything. He just stood there quietly as I cried my eyes out.

Gripping the handle of my suitcase, I yanked it up and turned to walk away. A part of me wanted him to run after me, but the other part of me knew that it was over. 

As I stepped into the lift, watching the doors close, I glanced down at the promise ring he’d given me on our one year anniversary. It shone slightly with a dull gleam. Like our relationship, it had lost its spark. I was just too caught up and in love with him to notice that he’d lost interest a while ago.


>>>

a/n: another imagine! as you might have already noticed, the ideas that come to my head are mostly angst and I really enjoy writing them. This idea has been in my head for the longest time, as has the Ashton imagine I’ve drafted - which will not be up that soon bc I’m still working on it.

Headhunt (1/?)

more hazard, now with kris. 

hazard

It’s best to just do what you’re told and stay quiet.



It’s not every day you get fired.

It’s also not every day you get hired at one of the top corporations in the country. Granted, you’re a secretary again, but it pays far better than your last job. Your previous company went bankrupt, leaving you jobless, but within the week there was an opening that you qualified for. You didn’t even have to go in for an interview, just sent them your resume and within 24 hours they called to tell you that you got the job.

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I Love You and I Like You - Chapter One

Chapter One 
A/N: Okay, so ever since I saw Civil War I have fallen in love with the new Peter Parker, so I decided to start a new chapter story. Yes, sadly, Return to Me is being put on the back burner. It’s not over, but I can’t find inspiration and no one really likes it anyways. I hope you all like this, please let me know what you think. Head sup: In this story the read is 20 and Peter is 16.
Word Count: 2,280
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Next Chapter

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