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thefanficmonster · 4 years ago

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It’s Only Fair

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Minor Spoilers for RE8: Village

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: It’s all fun and games while Corpse is simping over Lady Dimitrescu, seeing as how Y/N herself isn’t immune to that woman’s charms. However, things get ‘serious’ when Corpse has to deal with his girlfriend making heart eyes at the hammer wielding final lord - Heisenberg.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for this incredible request - it hit close to home, not gonna lie hehe. Thank you so much for the opportunity you gave me with this request, I had a ton of fun turning it into a fic and I hope you have at least half as much fun reading it! Love, Vy ❤

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but doesn’t Heisenberg remind you of Lucas from the seventh game? I don’t know, all this speakers communication is giving me flashbacks I’m not too fond of. That guy traumatized me.“ Y/N shudders in her seat from where she’s observing Corpse’s gameplay while keeping tabs on the speeding chat, answering as many of the comments as she can.

“No idea. Never played the game.“ Corpse wheezes out, feeling the pressure’s on and working up a little bit of a sweat seeing as how this is the last lord he’ll have to battle before probably having to square up with Mother Miranda. The fact he’s running low on ammo has been stressing him out but luckily he has Y/N there to comfort him every time. She doesn’t even need to use words to do so or even ask him what’s wrong - just placing her hand on his knee allows him to feel relaxed and as though everything will be alright even though it probably won’t be if he doesn’t collect some money, ammo or supplies for making ammo soon.

“Wooow, fake fan, huh?“ Y/N pokes his side teasingly, “No, nevermind, I know exactly why you chose to play this, skipping all the previous ones in the process.“ She prods on, continuing to mess with Corpse who gives her a side-smile after having held on a still face for such a long time, features frozen in his focused and on-edge state.

He rolls his eyes, deciding to play her game, “Oh yeah? Why do you think that is?”

She scoffs, “Maybe cause thee other games don’t have 9ft tall vampire ladies? I don’t know, I’m just shooting in the dark here.” She delivers another poke to his side, giggling devilishly as she does so.

Corpse quickly takes hold of her hand, murmuring: “Maybe...” under his breath before bringing it to his lips and giving her knuckles a kiss.

Y/N wiggles her hand free from his grasp, mock-offended by his words, “Knew it! I freaking- Whoa, hello there, sir.” She cuts herself off as the game enters into a scripted cutscene, showing off the final lord in all his glory. “Who is you?”

“Y/N, Heisenberg. Heisenberg, Y/N.” Corpse laughs, “I forgot you missed the episode where he was first introduced.”

“Damn do I regret that now.“ She whispers, eyes glued to the game instead of the screen of her laptop where she’s been fetching comments flying by. No one can blame the girl, she’s got a justified reason to be distracted. “Wish we met sooner, Mr. Heisenberg.“

Corpse finds his jaw on the floor in an instant as his head snaps to face his girlfriend, “Excuse me, what’s that supposed to mean?!”

Y/N frowns, narrowing her eyes at her boyfriend as she finally brings herself to tear her eyes off the screen where now the game has been paused. “What? You now get to complain? After I didn’t say shit about you drooling all over Lady Dimitrescu? It’s only fair I get my own simp-worthy subject, don’t you think?”

Corpse rolls his eyes, “This deal doesn’t seem like it’ll benefit you much - I get a hot, classy and rich vampire lady and you get...” he motions at the screen, his face twisting in a displeased expression, “...him.”

“Oh trust me, I’ll be perfectly benefited, don’t ya worry.“ She shoots him a wink, cackling quietly yet evilly at the shock-disappointment het comment is met with on her boyfriend’s part. “What?“ She asks though laughter, “He’s hella hot!“

“Ok, that’s it.“ Corpse gets up, pushing the desk chair Y/N’s sitting in forward, rolling it on its wheels towards the door, “You’ll be in exile until this chapter’s done with. I can’t have you simping all over the place, it’s bad for business. I mean, if you fall for guys who look like him, God knows what people will think I look like.“

“Well, you do need a shower but...“ Y/N comments through a fit of giggles, kicking her legs as to get up and off the chair but by the time she’s able to react, he’s already rolled her out in the hallway and shut the door of the recording room behind himself as though she can’t just open it and walk back in. Which is exactly what she does, much to his dismay - but she only pokes her head inside, “You’re right, it’s bad for your image, so I’ll clarify.“ She clears her throat, raising her voice as for it to be picked up by Corpse’s mic from across the room, “The two men in question don’t look at all alike, folks! Heisenberg is way hotter than Corpse!“

“OUT!“ Corpse shouts, sounding as threatening as he can while laughing his ass off alongside Y/N who has followed his ‘order‘ and stepped out in the hallway where her laughter can still be heard. “Guess the longer I don’t shower, the hotter I’ll appear to Y/N. Remind me to buy myself a cape as well. Wonder how much factories cost around the West Coast...“

“COPYCAT!“ Comes Y/N’s shout from outside the door, causing Corpse to break out in another fit of laughter.

Never did Corpse think he’d be trying to cop the ranks of a video game villain but here he is, actually googling the price of cape coats and he’s never felt more bemused with himself - ok, that may or may not be a lie considering he’s really digging the coats he finds for sale online.

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onceupon · 3 years ago

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London Boy - Part 3: I like girls that dance

summary: It’s your first night out and your first real introduction to Westheath. Rafe is quick to find his way on your radar.

pairing: Rafe x reader (slowburn)

warnings: swearing, drinking

word count: 4.6k

a/n: the way I’m imagining Jack Harlow as I write Liam 😩✋also, im pulling these chapter titles out of my ass - but actually tho, go listen to Girls That Dance by Masego

Part 1 Part 2

Despite your doubts, you put on the sheer top and the black mini skirt Millie and Olivia had insisted you wear. Your favorite pregame playlist plays as you do your makeup in the mirror. You move as quickly as you can, in desperate need of a shot to calm your nerves before your flat fills with people. You’re also nervous about seeing Rafe after that encounter in the kitchen you just had.

As you run your fingers through your hair and put on your earrings, all you can see is his stupid (and annoyingly attractive) face, staring down at you with that dumb backwards cap, telling you that you guys should watch Game of Thrones together. Every time your mind starts to think if that means something, you quickly shut down the thought. Of course it doesn’t mean anything. Just because a boy wants to watch a show with you does not automatically mean he wants you or that this was going to turn into some kind of Netflix and chill situation. Or was this gonna be a Netflix and chill situation? I mean it was Rafe Cameron after all, the boy certainly had a reputation. But then again, hadn’t he just showed you that he’s different from what you had expected? Oh god this was all too much to think about right now, you needed a shot. Stat.

“Y/N!” Olivia shouts, swinging the door to your room open right on cue. “Oh. My. God. You look so hot!” she exclaims. “Here, this is for you,” she extends a shot glass toward you with a devilish grin.

“Oh god what is it,” you grimace. Shots always seemed like a better idea in theory than in practice.

“Try it and find out,” she smirks. You sigh and send the liquid to the back of your throat, immediately cringing at the sting of raspberry vodka, Olivia bringing a cup of cranberry juice to your mouth to chase.

“Don’t worry love, a few more and you won’t even taste it. Now come on,” she laughs, dragging you with her to the kitchen. The rest of your flatmates are already there, Millie bopping along to the music, giggling at whatever Topper is saying, Rafe standing close by sipping his drink.

“Y/n you hottie!” Millie cheers, looking up as you make your way into the kitchen. You pray to god your cheeks aren’t turning pink. You don’t dare turn your head, but you know Rafe is staring at you. If you looked at him now you’d be crimson for sure.

“Alright everybodyyy,” Olivia begins, pouring the same raspberry vodka into the five shot glasses she has lined up on the table. You can’t help but laugh at her infectious energy, this girl is nothing if not the life of the party.

“Cheers to our first night out as flat mates! Wooo!!!” she exclaims, as everyone grabs a shot glass from the table, Rafe instinctively passing you one, hands briefly touching during the exchange and again as you all clink your glasses. You down the contents, unsure if the heat forming in your chest is from the vodka or the feeling of Rafe’s passing touch.

Pretty soon people start to arrive, Olivia and Millie making sure to introduce everyone. The flat becomes a blur of bodies drinking, dancing, and mingling about, and somehow, despite it all, Rafe Cameron is the person you find yourself standing with. There was something magnetic about him that you couldn’t quite understand, but it kept drawing you near.

“What are you drinking tonight Cameron,” you nod at the cup in his hand.

“Jack and coke. Of course,” he scoffs with subtle sarcasm, which you instantly pick up on.

“Not straight whiskey? Wow. That’s not very Figure 8 of you,” you admonish playfully.

“Straight whiskey? L/n who do you think I am?” he twists his face in mock disbelief. “But I’m game to do a shot if you are,” he adds.

“Hmm that does-“ you begin, but you’re quickly cutoff.

“Y/n, babe, if I had known you’d be here I would’ve came sooner,” Liam greets you with a kiss on the cheek and a cheeky smile.

“Now how on earth do you two know each other,” Millie asks, walking in line with the boy.

“Umm,” you chuckle nervously. You could not have possibly felt more awkward at the conversation unfolding in front of you, Rafe standing by as witness to it all. “He’s that boy I went to the bar with the other night,” you explain sheepishly.

“That was Liam!? Chrissake. Well I apologize on his behalf for anything he said or did.”

“Hey I’ll have you know I’m a proper gentleman!” he defends, throwing you a wink as Millie rolls her eyes. Just at that moment, another group of people walk in through the door, conveniently coming to Rafe’s rescue.

“Rafe!” a girl calls and he clears his throat excusing himself, Millie following suit to greet the latest batch of guests. You watch as he leans in for a hug with the girl who’s just called his name. She’s twirling her hair and batting her eyes, confident, flirty, gorgeous - just his type. A sick feeling pools in your stomach, you don’t even realize you’re staring.

“Lily Colts, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Liam informs you as he takes the now empty spot next to you.

“Oh, um no, I was just uh-“

“It’s okay Y/n, I get it. So flatmate huh” he laughs, unbothered.

“No no it’s not like that at all I uh-”

“Alright. Y/n,” he says, jumping up to sit on the counter behind him, cracking open the can in his hand. “You know I think you’re hot and you know I like messing with you-”

“Actually I know neither of those things,” you reply indignantly.

“Yes you do, you’re not dim,” he bulldozes right on, “I can read people pretty well, and there was a vibe there.”

“A vibe?”

“Yeah. Between you and what’s-his-face. You should’ve seen the way he tensed up when I came up to you,” he snickers in amusement.

“Shut up. His name is Rafe, by the way, and there was no ‘vibe.’ Also why are you even telling me this?” you ask, growing frustrated with the cocky brunette.

“Y/n please,” he scoffs. “I told you I can read people, so let me read you. You’re out here in London right, far away from home, keen for a fresh start. You’ve never been one for meaningless flings, but fuck it, if everyone else can do it, why not you? Or so you try to convince yourself, but you know that’s not you. See, you crave that emotional connection, and when you find even a hint of it, you’re a goner. Which is why you’d never actually hook up with me and it’s why you’re staring at that boy from home even though you swear you don’t care, but you do - you feel something there.”

You’re dumbfounded by his ability to know things about you that even you yourself can’t recognize. “I liked it better when you were just flirting with me,” you grumble.

“No worries darling, I’ll definitely still do that. I’ll even dance on you in the club if you ask nicely, might make pretty boy over there jealous,” he motions with his eyes toward Rafe, at which you give his shoulder a shove.

“You’re an idiot you know, Millie was right on the money with that,” you quip, as the two of you head over to her, Liv, and the boys.

“Please, Millie wishes she could be right on something else,” he says as you shoot him a glare, trying your best to suppress a laugh. Liam was starting to become a pain in your ass, too smart for his own good, but at least he was a funny one.

—

Your first night clubbing was going great. The place was packed, the music was good, and you were having a blast dancing with Liv, Millie, and their friends. You couldn’t help looking around the club though, eyes scanning for Rafe in the crowd. He’d been hanging out all night with Topper and some of the guys from their new soccer team. You longed to be near him somehow, to interact with him again. All your conversations with him earlier today had left you with an excited buzz - you didn’t know what it was about this version of Rafe Cameron in London, but you were actually enjoying his company.

You try to push him out of your mind and just enjoy the moment. It’s not like there was anything between you and Rafe, you had just barely began to form a semblance of a potential friendship today, let’s not get carried away. Besides, you live with the boy, accidentally running into him wasn’t going to be much of a challenge.

“Anyone want anything from the bar?” you shout over the music to your friends.

“Vodka soda with lime please!” Olivia shouts back and you nod, turning to make your way to the counter a few feet away. You place your order and mindlessly tap your fingers on the bar as a figure appears beside you.

“Hey, Y/n right? Flatmates with Olivia, Mills, and the boys?” the girl asks, and you turn, now face to face with Lily.

“Uh yeah, hey,” you feign a smile back.

“I’m Lily, nice to meet you,” she smiles genuinely. “I’m friends with all the Westheath bozos you’ve probably been meeting tonight,” she laughs, “Callum and Henry over there are my best mates. They’re on the football team with Rafe and Topper, we were showing them around earlier. My god you guys have been hoarding some cute ones over there in America.”

You chuckle, “glad that Kildare’s presence can at least be of some benefit.”

“So, girl to girl here, what can you tell me about Rafe Cameron? He’s such a hottie isn’t he? Would love to get a taste of that,” she smirks, licking her lips.

“Umm I don’t really have much to tell,” you say, unsure of how to navigate this conversation. You could tell her what you thought you knew of Outer Banks Rafe - he’s a rich, party-boy player. But after today, that no longer felt right. You didn’t want to say or presume anything about him at all actually, it felt wrong to talk about him like that. God, what the hell was wrong with you? You spend a few hours with the boy and you already have a soft spot for him? You needed to get a grip. “Our families know each other but we don’t really hang out at home. He’s uh- he’s cool though,” you decide as a sufficient response.

“Any girl friend?” she asks, sliding cash over to the bartender as she orders a shot.

“Rafe’s not really the ‘girlfriend-type’,” you answer, bartender sliding you the drinks you ordered and Lily her’s.

“Well then cheers to that,” she grins, clinking her shot glass to your drink before she downs it, waving a quick goodbye. You watch as she makes her way back to Rafe and their group, adorning a flirty smile. You feel sick to your stomach. You wanted to hate her, you did. But you couldn’t. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. She was just confident, outgoing, and not afraid to go after what she wanted. There was nothing for you to be angry about, who was stopping you from doing the same?

But in the back of your mind you decided you could never go after Rafe like that. He would never be interested in you in that way, you were sure of it. You had a hard time believing your friends when they hyped you up, so you definitely weren’t going to believe for a single second that a boy you thought was cool could possibly look at you in the same way. Besides, the mere idea of being rejected by Rafe Cameron, and then having to continue living with him and eventually go back to the Outer Banks for everyone to find out you had been rejected by the kook prince, was so mortifying that the very thought made you want to crawl into a hole. So you promise yourself, right then and there, that you won’t let yourself get hurt like that. You could hang out with Rafe, get to know him, become friends even, but under no circumstances could you be caught wearing your heart on your sleeve. You couldn’t disarm yourself like that and give him the upper hand. You needed to look out for yourself first and foremost, preserving the little bit of control you still had over your life.

You walk back over to your friends, slipping Liv her drink as her and Jake dance together. Your new friends are all tipsy and in a world of their own, getting lost in the music and their movements.

“Dance with me,” you turn to Liam who’s right beside you.

“I said if you ask nicely,” he admonishes sarcastically, to which you roll your eyes.

“I’m not gonna beg Liam. You wanna dance or not?”

“Sheesh, Lily Colts got your panties in a twist like that?”

“Not. At. All.” You confidently stare into his eyes, sipping your drink. It’s no use, Liam knows you all too well by now, and you curse yourself for the way in which this boy is able to see right through all the walls you put up. You may think these walls are made of brick, but to Liam they’re glass.

He just laughs at you, shaking his head in amusement. He grabs your free hand and pulls you closer to him, your bodies now pressed together. He takes your hand and rests it on the back of his neck, his finding their way to your hips. He plants his leg in between yours and soon you guys are lost in the rhythm. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying every second. He spins you around and you lightly grind your ass against him.

“Damn Y/n, I didn’t know you move like that,” he jokes, as you face forward again. He leans in, his hand on the small of your back, and you feel his breath right against your ear, “he’s looking by the way.” Your breath hitches, but you know better than to turn around. Liam is already one step ahead of you, instinctively twirling you again so you can quickly catch a glimpse of Rafe’s eyes on yours without it being obvious. “Told you he’d be jealous,” he smirks down at you triumphantly.

“Shut up,” you reply, the slightest smile tugging at your lips as your sweaty bodies continue to move to the music.

—-

“Aw flatmate bonding you guysss,” Olivia gushes, as you all sit together at a booth. She had forced you all out of your beds this morning to get breakfast together. Despite being hungover and groggy, you all reluctantly agreed. “Mimosas anyone?” she jokes.

“If I so much as smell any alcohol I think I’ll vomit,” Topper groans.

“Aw, what’s the matter, can’t handle your liquor Tops?” Millie asks, quirking her head to the side.

“Ha. Ha. Very funny. Could ask you the same question. My room is right next to the bathroom, don’t think I didn’t hear your retching last night,” he snaps back, to which Millie turns bright red and soon you’re all hunched over in laughter.

“I think a mimosa would make me yak right now too, to be fair. Coffees all around!” Olivia asserts.

You’re seated across from Rafe as you both scan your menus, your eyes immediately fixing in on the pancakes. The waiter comes by to take all your orders and you can’t help but blush a little when Rafe orders pancakes and you have to follow with a “same for me.” Such a silly, meaningless thing, I mean everyone likes pancakes. But being the only one to have the same exact order as Rafe leaves you feeling embarrassed, for no good reason all the same. You all begin to scarf down your food as soon as it arrives, thankful to have something to soak up the alcohol in your stomachs, as you share stories and laugh about last night’s drunken antics.

“So how is it that we’re all flatmates and yet I only have Topper’s contact. Come on, add ‘em in,” Rafe says, sliding his unlocked phone to the middle of the table.

“Wait I want snapchats too. Oooh! And instagram!” Olivia pipes, whipping out her phone as well.

“I expect no booty calls Cameron. This is strictly business,” Millie jokes, typing in her and Olivia’s numbers before passing his phone to you.

“Am I allowed a booty call?” Topper smirks, extending his phone as well.

“I wouldn’t push your luck Thornton,” she smirks back and he pouts in response. You finish typing your name and number into Rafe’s phone and hand it back to him, skin briefly making contact once again. Even though you had known Rafe all your life, somehow you two never had a reason to exchange numbers, only following each other on Instagram which he never posted on anyways.

“Alright everyone, pull up your snapchat codes, I wanna make a group,” Olivia says and everyone obliges, arms crossing every which way as you all add each other. “What should we name our group chat? Ooo can we do a ship name of our schools - like Kilheath or Westare?”

“I like Kilheath,” Topper chimes in.

“Yeah I bet you do you psychopath. Sounds like the name of a bad horror movie,” Rafe laughs.

“Oooo there’s five of us, we could be the Spice Girls,” Millie beams.

“No.” Topper immediately shuts her down.

“What about ‘American Boys and Spice Girls.’ You know, like the Kanye West song,” you add.

“Ehh, we’re getting closer, but not quite there,” Rafe teases you and you playfully kick him under the table. “I’m hearing a lot of opinions and not a lot of contributions,” you cross your arms and raise your brows.

“Hey hey hey, I’m a critic, not a chef L/n,” he lifts his hands in surrender.

“Ooo I got it! We can call it the ‘Royal fam,’ like the royal family,” Olivia suggests, finally getting approval from the whole group. Breakfast is soon over and you all return to your rooms, eager to nap away the remainder of your hangovers. You lay in your bed and stare at the newly formed snapchat group on your phone. Royal Fam 🇬🇧🇺🇸 appears on top and you scroll down, looking at Rafe’s username and bitmoji on your screen. You laugh at the fact that even his bitmoji wears a backwards cap. It was weird, having him in your phone like this. You had known this boy your whole life, but you two had always operated in separate spheres. And here he was, in your Snapchat, a glimpse into the life of Rafe, of which you only ever got a birds eye view of back home. It almost felt like you were trespassing somewhere you didn’t belong, having access to him like this. You sigh and lock your phone. Rafe Cameron really isn’t all that bad.

—

The next few days fly by fast as you become acclimated to Westheath. You and the rest of the Kildare kids attend an orientation with Westheath’s exchange advisor, spending the whole time with your little trio: you, Rafe, and Topper. When you had first arrived abroad, you were deadset on forging your own path in London and steering clear of everyone else from OBX. But hanging out with Rafe and Topper made you all but forget. It was fun and easy hanging out with them, in fact, counterintuitively, they were helping you forget all about the Outer Banks, just as you had hoped to do. Your conversations centered around your interests, your new lives, on random jokes and made up bits. It was almost as if there was a mutual unspoken agreement between you, them also trying to escape and forget their lives in OBX.

Pretty soon classes began, and you were learning a new schedule and adapting to British schooling. Your evenings were spent singing and dancing in the kitchen as you, Liv, and Millie simultaneously cooked your dinners, getting pints at the pub around the corner with your Westheath friends, and playing card games at the kitchen table with Rafe and Topper, the smack talk between you three flowing strong. There’d be short moments where you’d find yourself alone with Rafe - he’d explain to you whatever Premier League team was playing that day, you’d show him how the coffee machine works, and the occasional passing comments of “so when are we finally starting Game of Thrones, Cameron?” “I’m ready whenever you are, L/n.”

—

It was a Wednesday night, and you were curled up in your fluffy gray blanket watching Gilmore Girls in bed. You found the show comforting and familiar, the small town of Stars Hallow reminding you of what you wished your life in the Outer Banks could be like. Instead it was more like the cold and pretentious atmosphere of Chilton and the older Gilmores’ Hartford life. Your phone buzzes, and you pick it up lazily to check, suddenly freezing at the notification on your screen.

Snapchat: Rafe Cameron

You had opened a few snapchats from the boy over the past few days, but they were always random ones he would send to the group chat. This one was just for you. You gulp and put your phone down, not wanting to open it too fast. A few minutes go by and you realize you haven’t paid an ounce of attention to the show on your screen, even though you’re staring right at it. Fuck it. You open your phone and tap on the unread snap.

When are we watching Game of Thrones L/n the snapchat says, a picture of his laptop on his bed and the HBO Max home page open, the series featured in the corner of the screen.

You snap back a picture of your blanket and the laptop playing Gilmore Girls in front of you: ready whenever you are Cameron.

Almost immediately you get a response back.

Rafe Cameron: wait are you home rn? His message is accompanied by a random picture of his room, a view you let your eyes linger on until the message expires. Another peak into Rafe Cameron’s world.

Y/n: Yep! You send a blurry selfie of you wrapped in your blanket.

Rafe Cameron: be over in 5

You leave that last message on open and your heart starts to race. Just breathe Y/n, breathe, you keep telling yourself. It doesn’t have to be a big deal if you don’t make it out to be. It’s just a show. Just a show. And besides, you guys are friends now, right? You sit up in your bed and grab your pillow, shifting over to sit horizontally on your mattress. That seems more casual to you, more ‘just a couple friends watching a show together at a comfortable distance’ and less ‘sitting right on top of each other Netflix and chill’. You gulp down some water to ease your dry throat when you hear a gentle knock.

“Come in!” you call out, and now Rafe Cameron is in your room, eyes absorbing all the details that are so you. The posters on one wall, film camera photos on another. The string lights which wrap around your room and give it a warm glow. The plants, the subtle scent of vanilla. The bag you always carried with you, hanging off the side of your chair. He almost felt like he was intruding, like he was getting an intimate glimpse of something that was for your eyes only.

“Whats up,” he says, holding his laptop and closing the door behind him.

“Ready to finally start the show,” you laugh, “it’s about damn time.”

“Hey, I’ve been ready, it’s you who’s been taking your sweet time.”

“Is that so?” you ask sarcastically and a smile forms on his face.

“What are you doing over there? Who sits like that on their bed?” he asks, now coming over and taking a seat on your mattress facing vertically, propping your other pillow behind his back. “Can’t even stretch out your legs or anything,” he continues, patting the spot on the bed next to him, signaling for you to come over.

“I don’t know, I think it’s comfy,” you lie as you crawl over to him, your first line of defense already shot down.

“Weirdo,” he chuckles to which you nudge him in the side with your elbow. “If Topper’s wrong about this I’m gonna give him so much shit,” he says.

“Topper does have a lot of questionable opinions,” you laugh, “but I have a good feeling about this one.

—

One episode turned into two turned into three, you and Rafe instantly hooked. The nerves you had felt earlier at sitting so close next to this boy in your bed had all but dissipated, you quickly acclimating to the space he took up next to you. Even though by now all your previous misconceptions about Rafe had disappeared, replaced with the boy you had come to know over the past week, there was a small part of you that was still waiting to see if he’d try to pull something on you, like the Rafe you imagined back home surely would. Of course he didn’t, watching and discussing the show with you, making you feel as comfortable as if you two had been friends for years. You almost felt bad for having had doubted him in the first place.

When the third episode ended and you two got into a long post-episode discussion, you hardly noticed when the conversation began to digress. You both started to sink lower and lower down into your pillows, until you were both laying on your backs, staring at the ceiling and lost in exchanges of words and thoughts. The conversation was different this time, more candid and open, as if the shadow of the night was inviting you to divulge thoughts you wouldn’t have shared in the day. He spoke of his strained relationship with his father and you shared the silly drama that had caused a riff between you and your former friends back home. He showed you pictures of his dog and you showed him the video you had been working on all summer long in OBX, not having anyone to hang out with before you left for London. He talked about how he felt so disconnected from almost everyone on that island, and you nodded, understanding all too well. The conversation continued to ebb and flow, the occasional funny video or meme pulling you two into fits of laughter before seamlessly delving into another vulnerable train of thought. You both had your Spotify accounts open now, taking turns sharing your favorite songs. You put on a playlist you had made over the summer, full of songs that made you feel at peace.

“This puts you at ease huh,” he says.

You turn your head to look at him, “how could you tell?”

“I don’t know. I guess just the way your whole body relaxed the second you pressed play,” he replies.

“Yeah,” you say turning your head back toward the ceiling. “I know it sounds cheesy, but I feel like these songs are speaking to my soul or something,” you whisper.

“Yeah I get that… I have those too,” he whispers back. Neither of you realize it’s already 5 am and neither of you notice as your eyes both get heavy and sleep washes over you, playlist in the background like a lullaby. And at some point during your deep sleep, Rafe’s arm has found itself unconsciously wrapped around you.

---

Part 4

a/n: lemme know what you think!(:

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #obx #rafe outer banks #outer banks #rafe cameron x you

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cassandraclare · 4 years ago

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I'm sorry to hear that your hard work was leaked but I was curious about what happened. I hope the person faced consequences because that was a very selfish thing to do leaking your work like that :(

I haven’t taken action against the person who leaked the book. I know who they are, since they uploaded the page I signed for them, and I was able to match that against my records.

I haven’t refrained from taking action because I feel sympathy for them. I don’t. It’s beyond shitty behavior to receive an early, signed book as a gift, and to then leak the entire book online. It’s a shit thing to do to the authors and an equally shit thing to do to other fans. However, I don’t want to put myself (and Wes) through the exhausting, grim and expensive process of legal repercussions. It doesn’t mean what this person did isn’t horrible, and it doesn’t mean they haven’t cost the entire fandom any chance of there ever being an early contest giveaway like that again. They did. There never will be. There will be no ARCs of Chain of Iron, either, and you can thank them for that, too.

Part of what makes piracy such an issue for authors goes far beyond the individual assholes who upload and distribute and translate stolen books. It’s that the whole system is set up to make it incredibly difficult for us to do anything about it. Publishers do little to nothing to prevent piracy, and authors shoulder the entire burden of searching out and reporting illegal copies of their books. And even then, we’re dependent on whether or not the reported website feels like complying with copyright laws or not. Twitter is incredibly slow to respond, Tumblr is about fifty-fifty on bothering at all. They’re legally required to take action, but they also know that the effort of doing something about it if they do not falls on exhausted, overburdened artists who often can’t afford to follow up with a lawyer’s letter.

And like, I get being broke and wanting to read books; there were a lot of books I had to pass up reading when I was broke (I will be forever grateful to the library system of New York and Brooklyn, which is how I read books at all from about 2001-2004.) I was broke enough that I slept on a bare mattress because I couldn’t afford sheets, but I’m pretty sure if I broke into Bed, Bath and Beyond and stole a bunch of fitted percale bedding I wouldn’t have encountered much sympathy if I got caught.

I talked about this on Twitter before, and I’ll say it again here though I know it will make very little difference: pirating books doesn’t just hurt the author of those books. It hurts everyone at the publishing company, where the margin of profit is razor-thin (and yes, publishers should do more to protect themselves against piracy; I agree there); it hurts bookstores, especially indie bookstores (I remember doing an event at a store that told me, sadly, that they were likely going to have to close because people “came into the store, looked at the books, took notes, then went home and pirated them.”) It hurts libraries, who rely on circulation for funding, and the shutting down of libraries hurts people who actually can’t afford books.

Now, I know is no way to talk people out of piracy; the internet has normalized it, and besides, people will generally do the cheaper, easier thing — you can’t talk people into not doing something they want to do by telling them it’s wrong, in my experience. They’ll find ways to justify it, whether it be that they can’t afford the book or it isn’t yet available in their language or that they find the author “problematic” and this is the way they’ve chosen to punish them.

The reason I put “problematic” in quotes is because yes, of course you can read and enjoy work that has problematic elements. Pretty much everything has some element that’s going to be found problematic by someone — which is exactly why deciding that it’s morally excusable to steal from people you think are creating flawed work is more than problematic. Holding creators accountable for their work means critiquing that work, not stealing it.

I listen to a lot of political podcasts, and some of them review work by extreme right-wing politicians etc. who have written books that the podcasters find morally despicable but wish to, or need to, review and discuss. Since they don’t wish to give money to the authors, they buy second-hand copies or take the book out of the library. They certainly don’t steal, translate and distribute copies of the books because they genuinely do not like them and do not want more people reading them. That’s what it looks like when you have an actual moral problem with a book or author.

However, running multiple fan accounts for a book series, naming your internet identity after characters from that book series, and talking endlessly about “your favorite parts” and how this is “your favorite book” entirely invalidates any argument that you’re doing this because you think the books are bad, evil, etc. If you claim a book is actively homophobic or racist but are so desperate to read it that you’ll steal it, so excited about it that you’ll share that stolen copy, so obsessed that you’ll illegally translate a whole book and provide that stolen translation to as many people as possible, and so dedicated to the fandom that you’ll name yourself after the characters in the books and write poetry about them, I have to tell you: the last thing that looks like is that you actually find the books problematic, regardless of what you say to the contrary. It looks like you like them but don’t want to pay for them, because in fact, that’s the case. (Either that or it looks like you’re really into racist, homophobic books, and making sure as many people read them as possible, which is your problem.)

One of the issues I have with piracy is that it teaches you to hate creators. You have to hate them, because you’re doing a fucking awful thing to them and you have to justify it. This results in lying about creators — about their process, their translations, their research — as if somehow, even if they were bad researchers, that would justify widespread theft. (It doesn’t.) Those who steal books wind up in a headspace where they are obsessed with the content of the books, and entirely unwilling to accept the reality that those books were created by a real person that they’re really harming. It encourages the mentality that I didn’t create Jem or Magnus or Will or Cordelia: they came from some kind of sparkly outerspace planet and I was just lucky enough to get to write down their adventures. It invalidates the hard work creators put into what they create, and in fact, erases their very existence. The internet attitude toward creators is already incredibly toxic (especially if they’re women, LGBT+ and/or BIPOC) and the feeling of entitlement to free content, and vicious hatred toward those who aren’t providing it (even though a lot of creators, me included, provide a great deal of free content) contributes to that. Genuinely, if you’re stealing someone’s work, the least you could do is not also be an asshole about them. (Or pretend you’re Robin Hood. He stole from the rich who had taken property and goods from the poor, and returned that stolen wealth. He didn’t steal from artists and independent bookstores and use that stealing to benefit himself and his friends. The idea is actually kind of funny.)

I understand there is a pressure to be up to date on the books that are being released so as to participate in fandom, and I do get that. Unfortunately, piracy has real consequences that stretch beyond just hurting me and Wes. Because LGBT+ books are pirated at such an incredible rate, and we’ve definitely seen that with TEC, I am left wondering if there will ever be an actual Spanish translation of TEC, or whether the publisher will decide not to bother because it’s already been so thoroughly pirated in Spanish. I have to wonder if there will even be a third book of TEC at all, or whether publishers will feel it isn’t worth doing. And I have to wonder why the people who create this situation so often have usernames that include Jem or Magnus or Alec or Cordelia or Julian or Tessa. What an incredible misunderstanding of those characters, to imagine a world in which Will Herondale or Magnus Bane or James Carstairs would approve of stealing books and harming writers. And why name yourself after a character who absolutely couldn’t stand you? I don’t know. I don’t get it, any more than I get hating someone who provided you with something you claim is your favorite book.

That was a much longer answer than you were probably expecting or hoping for, and I know I’ll get yelled at quite thoroughly for writing it. Writers always do, when we engage with the issue of piracy. I know most of you reading this acquire your books honestly; most of you are not like this at all. But like most things on the internet, a small amount of people really do have the power to make things pretty rotten for everyone else.

#brother-sixpackariah-carstairs #piracy #tda #tlh #tec

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echoghost1 · 3 years ago

Text

Ectober Day 25: Headstone

Summary: Danny had gone to the cemetery with his friends. He didn't leave with them.

Word count: 1,149

TW: Major Character Death

Danny shoved his hands a little deeper into his jacket pockets as he followed his friends. Sam had a photo project for her art class and she roped Tucker and him into helping her with some of the shots.

Not that either of them really needed that much convincing. Danny liked spending time with his friends, he never really cared what they were doing.

As for Tucker? Well, he didn’t like to be left out.

So there they were, on a chilly fall afternoon walking into a graveyard.

“Hey, you don’t think we should be worried about ghosts in here, do you?” Tucker asked while Sam had marched on ahead to scout her first photo.

“I doubt it,” Danny said confidently, “this is just where people get buried. It’s the places where people have a big attachment too that get haunted.”

“I guess that makes sense. People don’t actually like graveyards.”

Of course, that’s exactly when Sam cheered, “This place is so cool! I love it here!”

“I stand corrected.” Tucker dead-panned.

“Yeah, but she’s still alive so I think we’re safe.”

“You say that now, but if some goth ghost shows up, I’m blaming you.”

“Why would that be my fault?”

“Because you lulled me into a false sense of security.”

“Okay, Tucker.” Danny laughed, “whatever you say.”

“Hey guys, come here and make some shadows for me!” Sam called as she waved the boys over.

Danny and Tucker spent the next half-hour being directed by Sam as she had them stand or sit in different poses so she could get just the right shadows to fall in her shot or whatever else she needed them to do to get the aesthetic just right.

After a while, Danny started to get a little bored. Or maybe he was just tired? Either way, he didn’t really want to just stand around while Sam was taking pictures.

“Hey if you don’t need me, do you mind if I just go sit over there?” Danny asked as he pointed to a large tree a few feet away.

“Oh yeah sure. I think I got all the shots I need for the assignment but I want to use up this roll while we’re here.”

Tucker decided to go with Sam which gave Danny the perfect excuse to just relax.

He sat at the base of the old oak tree and stared up at the bare branches above him. Most of the trees still had their fall leaves, but this one was completely bare. Its dark branches reached up into the sky like a dark skeleton.

Danny wasn’t sure where that spooky thought came from. Maybe Sam had been rubbing off on him more than he realized.

He closed his eyes and just listened to the wind. It was soft enough that the cold didn’t bite as it would in winter but strong enough to rustle a few nearby leaves.

It really was a nice place.

Before he knew it, he had drifted off to sleep.

================================================

The camera clicked one final time as it reached the end of the roll. Sam stood up and couldn’t wait to get to the darkroom and see how her photos had turned out.

One of the benefits of having too much money was that she didn’t have to wait to use the darkroom at the school, she had her own at home.

“Alright let’s go see what Danny’s up to.” She said as she slipped the camera back into its carrying case.

“Well, I vote we go get something nice and warm to eat,” Tucker suggested.

“I have to say, that is one of your better ideas.” Sam teased as the pair walked back to the tree they had left Danny at.

“Thanks Sam,” he replied sarcastically.

The cemetery wasn’t too big so it didn’t take long for them to find Danny. Who had somehow been able to fall asleep?

“I didn’t realize he was that tired,” Sam said wondering if maybe she just hadn’t noticed because she had been so excited to come here today.

“Yeah me neither.”

Could they both have been that oblivious? Usually, Danny was the one missing obvious hints.

“Hey sleeping beauty, wake up,” Sam said as she lightly kicked his shoe with her boot.

His head tipped to the side from the movement, but he didn’t wake up.

That was odd, he was usually such a light sleeper.

Tucker knelt down beside him and touched his shoulder, “Hey man, wake up.”

Danny didn’t react.

“Danny?” Sam knelt down too, “come on, get up. It’s time to go.”

“Sam.”

She looked to Tucker but he wasn’t looking at her. He was just staring at Danny.

“He’s not breathing.”

“What?”

That couldn’t be right. He had to be breathing. He had to!

She placed her hand just under his nose and waited. Surely he was just so relaxed it only looked like he wasn’t breathing.

She didn’t feel anything.

“Danny!” she gripped his shoulders and started shaking him, “Danny wake up! Wake up right now! This isn’t funny!”

He was completely limp in her arms.

Why wasn’t he waking up?

What was wrong?

He was fine earlier!

“Sam stop it! You’re gonna hurt him!” Tucker pulled her back and she watched in anguish as Danny’s body just slumped over.

Completely lifeless.

What went wrong?

For once Tucker was the level-headed one and he called Jazz. Sam could hardly focus on what he was saying even though he was right next to her. His voice just turned to static in her brain.

All she could do was stare and wonder what in the world had gone wrong. How had her day shifted so drastically?

It didn’t take long for Jazz to get there, which would have been rather surprising seeing as both the Fenton home and the library were on the other side of town, but Sam didn’t have it in her to be surprised.

Also, Jazz did learn how to drive from her dad, who was infamous for taking the speed limit as more of a speed suggestion.

Jazz directed her and Tucker to help lay Danny down so he would be more comfortable. Sam had a horrible feeling that wasn’t going to matter.

Jazz took her compact out of her purse and held it under Danny’s nose. Using a mirror to check for breath was a good idea.

Too bad it didn’t matter.

There was nothing to fog up the glass.

Jazz checked his pulse next.

She held his wrist and counted silently for longer than necessary.

She tried his other wrist as if that might give her a different answer.

It didn’t.

She rested her ear on his chest and waited.

Then Jazz sat back on her heels and took a shaky breath before taking out her cellphone.

Sam’s mind went back to static after Jazz dialed those three simple numbers.

#Danny Phantom #ectoberweek2021 #Ectoberhaunt 2021 #Tricks vs Treats #Ectoberhaunt Trick (Danny Phantom)#Day 25 Headstone #tw character death #graveyard #cemetery #oops my hand slipped and I killed the boy again #but of the three times I've done it this is the nicest way to go

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blackmissfrizzle · 4 years ago

Text

Just Right (3)

Part 2

Characters: Angel Reyes x black!plussized!reader

Chapter Summary: Someone throws a wrench in the plans.

Chapter Warning: Footbal AU. Don’t hate me please 😬 angst, implied smut, and some very petty behavior.

If you want to read more here’s my masterlist and you want to be notified when I post here’s my taglist

Divider credit: @firefly-graphics

The next morning, you had a pep in your step. Angel left you in bed with breakfast and a note saying he went on a run.

Coming downstairs you heard Angel’s voice, you assumed he was on the phone and not talking to the devil herself.

“Adelita, this is a surprise.” Angel backed away from her when he heard your voice.

“Y/N,” she smiled and pulled you into a hug. Backing away she twirled your hair around your finger. “I see the drought is over. Who’s the lucky guy?” If Adelita wasn’t so damn conceited she would’ve smelled Angel on you. But of course, you wouldn’t be able to bag a guy like Angel.

Angel cleared his throat and stepped in between the two of you, grabbing onto Adelita’s hips. “Uhh, let’s leave Y/N alone. I’m sure she’s not the kiss and tell type.”

“Not around you.” She joked, patting Angel’s chest. “Once we’re done talking me and you can have some girl talk like old times. Just you’ll be the one sharing stories this time.”

The nerve. This is the second time in your life that you wanted to knock Adelita out. “Yeah sure.” You gave her a tight smile over your shoulder and went back to your room.

While walking you could hear the hushed whispers and the sounds of lips kissing. As soon as you knew you were out of sight you ran to your room and immediately started packing.

“What are you doing?” Right after Adelita left, Angel ran to you. “What does it look like Angel?”

Tugging your pants out of your hands, Angel stopped you. “You don’t have to leave.”

“And what?!” You screamed in his face. “Stay here with you and Adelita?!”

He tried to hug you, but you pushed him away. “You really must be crazy. How are you just gonna take her back?”

“She was my fiancée, she deserves the benefit of the doubt.” Angel explained like it was a one size fits all reason.

“Oh, the same fiancée that dumped you once your future was unsure.” You scrunched your face up. “The same fiancée that told you it was over through a letter? The same fiancée that was all over social media hanging out and partying while you were in rehab? The same fiancée that so happens to ‘coincidentally’ come back into your life after you just made the biggest comeback ever?” You brushed past him went out the door. “Yeah, you can miss me with that bullshit.”

Angel trailed behind you, hoping he could amend things with you. “Y/N, I’m sorry.”

Whipping around you shoved him. “Yeah, you are. You know honestly, I don’t feel bad for myself as much as I do for you. I pray to God that he never makes me as pathetic as you. Have a nice life, Angel Reyes.”

Opening the front door revealed a sympathetic Mr. Felipe and an angry EZ. They both tried to stop you, but you kissed each man goodbye promising to keep in touch.

EZ waited until he saw you drive away to attack his brother. “What the fuck did you do?” Angel blocked some of his brother’s punches, but EZ managed to get some in.

Felipe was able to pull his youngest off his eldest. “EZ that’s enough!”

“Nah, Pop! You saw her. She practically ran out in tears.”

“It’s none of your damn business, Ezekiel!” Angel tried to walk away from them, but Felipe stopped him. “Explain yourself, son.”

“Adelita.” Both his father and brother groaned at that name. Now they knew why you ran out like that.

EZ didn’t have time for whatever excuse that his brother had. “You two deserve each other. And I hope when you come to your senses it’s too late.” He slammed the door on the way out, too disgusted with Angel to stay.

A few moments later Felipe followed his son out. “Pop,” Angel cried out, hoping to gain some sort of sympathy. “Not right now, Angel.” He stopped at the door and looked back at his son. “Unlike your brother I hope it won’t be too late for you to come to your senses. When you stick your head out of your ass, you and Y/N are perfect for each other.”

Once he was alone, Angel sat on the staircase wondering if he made the right decision.

Losing Angel just wasn’t about your heart breaking, but also losing your best friend. Those months spent with him was probably the best time of your life. The only thing that got you through the days were work and Rio.

At first, he assured you that he could just be your friend but someway somehow, he wormed his way into something more. You told him that you didn’t want him as some rebound, but he cockily said, “Ain’t no way I’m a rebound.” So, you stayed and started dating him.

You were reading a book when Rio came and laid his head in your lap. “Mamaaaa,” he sung kissing the little bit of your exposed fupa. “What do you want?” He was only this adorable when he wanted something like that extra cookie that would mess up his diet. “Nothing extra. Just go to dinner with me.”

“That’s it?” You closed your book and set it down to look at him curiously. “Yeah, I got a dress picked out, hairstylist and makeup artist on the way.”

“Wait, what kind of dinner is this?” Dinners with Rio never required all the hoopla. “The league always hosts a dinner for all the teams in the semifinals.”

“I know, I know, I know,” Rio trampled over your words, not letting you get a word in. “I know that dumbass is gonna be there, but I think it would be the perfect place to show him what he’s missing out on.”

If you went this would be the first time you saw Angel and you weren’t sure if you were ready for that. Last time he made you look like a fool. “I don’t know Rio.”

Sitting up, Rio picked you up and sat you down in your lap. “But mama,” he attacked your neck with his lips, adding a little bite every now and then. “I’ll be bored without you. And who am I gonna shove in a closet and fuck her like a dirty girl?”

“You’ll be fine without me for a couple of hours.”

“Alright, time for the big guns.” Rio led you to his bedroom with a covered mannequin in the center. Unveiling the mannequin, he revealed the most beautiful dress. You would be crazy to not wear that dress.

“Ok, I’ll go!” Rio pulled you by your hips against him. “Good, I thought I would have to use my other negotiation methods.”

“Nah, I still need convincing.” Rio backed you into the bed and pulled off your shorts. “Okay, but you got 15 minutes to cum two times before the stylist gets here.”

Angel was doing his best at trying to keep his cool. Adelita was making her way through all the owners, sponsors, and players ‘networking’ to gain traction for her cause. It wasn’t that he didn’t support, actually he was very supportive of it, but this night was in celebration of him and the other players. And he couldn’t ask her to quit it without looking like a complete douchebag.

“Are you two seriously making bets?” Angel wasn’t paying that much attention to Coco and Gilly until they said Adelita’s name. They were betting on when she would corner their team owner, Miguel Galindo. “How else are we gonna pass the time? Ain’t like there’s scintillating conversation.” Coco collected money from Riz and put it in his breast pocket.

“Pendejo,” Angel ordered another drink and while waiting for it he heard Coco whistle. Turning around to see what made Coco speechless, Angel was glad that he already set his old glass on the bar top, because he would’ve dropped it. There you were in the most beautiful dress looking like a goddess, but his mood soured when he saw that it was Rio escorting you.

Bishop walked up beside him and smacked him in the back of the head. “Fucking dumbass. Now she’s with that asshole.” Angel opened his mouth to say something, but Bishop held up his hand. “I don’t wanna hear it. And you better leaver her alone, she looks happy.” His coach pointed his chin towards you and Rio kissing. Angel slammed back his drink and ordered another one. This was about to be a long night.

“I’m gonna go say hi to Bishop and the guys.” Rio looked for your friends and saw that Angel was right there next to them. “You sure? You want me to go with you?” It warmed your heart that Rio was so protective over you. It was unfamiliar territory for you. Usually, you were the one protecting others. “No, you stay here with your team, I’ll be okay.” Rio quirked his eyebrow, questioning you. He was trying to break you out of the habit of you masking your feelings, pretending you’re fine when you’re really not. “Rio, I promise. I’ll be good.” You patted his chest and started to walk away, but then he caught Angel staring at the two of you real hard and he couldn’t help but give him a show.

Spinning you around into his arms, Rio smashed his lips against yours. His still taste a little bit of yourself from when he wanted to make you his meal. Rio’s hands drifted to your ass and you did little to stop him. Ending the kiss, he tugged your bottom lip slowly releasing it and ending your connection. “Go say hi to your friends.” He whispered in your ear, fixing some of your lipstick that got under your lips.

Angel wanted to knock Rio the clean the fuck out. Who the fuck did he think he was practically dry humping you in public like that? “You better keep your mouth shut. You lost your privileges to be mad.” Coach Hank warned Angel as he saw you approach the group.

“Hey guys!” You were genuinely happy to see all of them. Since, you cut off contact with Angel you haven’t talked to any of them at all.

They all lined up to hug you, almost fighting each other to be the first one. But Angel waited his turn. He had a lot more to say than just hi.

It was a bit awkward at first. Neither one of you made the first move. Eventually, you threw yourself in his arms and you were almost a goner. You did not know that hugging him would bring back all those feelings you tried to bury deep down.

“You look beautiful.” He kept a hand around your wrist, his thumb stroking the inside of it. “Thank you.”

His eyes kept dipping to your dress. There were some cut out pieces revealing more skin than he cared for. “Where’s the rest of your dress?”

Snatching your wrist away, you crossed your arms over your chest to keep yourself from slapping the shit out of Angel. “Rio doesn’t seem to mind.”

Angel invaded your space and glared down at you. “Do I look like Rio?”

“Do I look like Adelita?”

Angel bit the inside of his cheek. He knew he had no reason to question you. You weren’t his, but damn it he wanted you to be.

“This was a mistake coming over here. Go back and talk to your fiancée.”

“She’s not my fiancée.”

Skrtt, you stopped your retreat. “Say what?”

“I said she’s not my fiancée.” Angel wasn’t able to explain further. Adelita finally came and graced you with her presence. She didn’t pay any attention to Angel. All her attention was on you. Adelita was actually pulling you away to talk to one of the other coaches about joining their staff.

This was almost as torturous as talking to Angel. Adelita barely let you get a word in. She was acting like she was your damn agent. Luckily, Rio came and saved the day.

“Where are we going?” You whispered as he pulled you into the hallway. “Don’t worry about it.” He jiggled each door until he found an unlocked door and pushed you through.

“Rio no,” you weakly protested clutching onto his tux. “What? You don’t wanna give daddy a little something something?” He pouted, knowing it was your weakness.

“Okay, but it has to be fast.” Rio kissed you some more knowing how turned you got by simply making out.

Due to your combined breaths getting heavier neither one of you heard the turning of the doorknob. It wasn’t until the light from the hallway shone on you and Rio, exposing your dirty deed.

“Oh shit, my bad dawg!” Angel lifted his head from Adelita’s neck and apologized to the other couple. He didn’t mean it all. Angel saw Rio lead you to the hallway and by the mischievous look he had on his face, he knew his opponent was up to no good.

The little smirk on Angel’s face told you that none of it was an accident. “It’s okay, I wasn’t feeling well anyway. I think we should go home.” You smirked back at Angel. He wasn’t the only one that can play games.

“C’mon Angel, they need to get home.” Adelita winked at you and led an unwilling Angel back to the party.

You were almost out until you got stopped by Mr. Galindo. He was the only team owner you hadn’t talked to that night.

With Miguel Galindo trying to convince you to join his staff and Adelita standing next to you patiently waiting for her chance, Angel and Rio were left alone with each other.

“I don’t know what you’re doing, but stay the fuck away from Y/N. You’re no good for her.” Angel had to refrain from snatching up Rio as he laughed. “You got jokes man.” Rio stepped closer to him, they were basically nose to nose. “At least when I make her cry it’s from my dick and not from being a dickwad.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you kept watch on Rio and Angel. Those two couldn’t be alone without trying to fight in the first 30 seconds.

The scene before you was getting to be too much, but you couldn’t do anything without being disrespectful towards Miguel. Thankfully, Coco and Gilly were watching them too and were able to pull Angel away.

Somehow Miguel talked you into staying for the entire dinner. And because the universe loved you so much you and Rio were assigned to the same table as Angel and Adelita.

After Adelita formally introduced herself to him. And you didn’t know if it was the alcohol or not, but it seemed that she was flirting with Rio. Not that you had anything to worry about. Rio wasn’t entertaining her at all.

“She take my money when I’m in need. Yeah, she’s a trifling’ friend indeed.” As soon as you recognized the notes, you tried to stomp Rio’s foot, but he was too quick.

“Huh, what was that?” Adelita didn’t quite catch what Rio was saying. “Oh nothing, I just got a song stuck in my head. Now I ain’t saying she a gold digger. But she ain’t messing’ with no broke bro.”

Angel had to admit to himself that was funny, but ain’t no way he’ll let Rio know that.

“Stop it!” You whispered in Rio’s ear. Even if Adelita was oblivious to him making fun of her, everyone else surrounding them wasn’t. “Now you know you always tell me that but we both know you don’t mean it hear or at home.” Heat crept up your face and all you could do was hide your face in the crook of Rio’s neck. Rio slightly turned to kiss your forehead while fingering the bracelet he got you.

Once the glint of the bracelet caught Adelita’s eye she snatched your wrist from Rio. You didn’t mind though because you and Rio were off in your own little world. Not even the harsh stare from Angel could tear your eyes away from Angel.

“Ouch! What the fuck, Angel?” Adelita rubbed at her ankle. “My bad.” He frowned as Rio smirked at him knowing full well he was the intended target.

As the night went on, Rio’s and Angel’s antics went up. You don’t know what you did, but you had two petty kings arguing over you. And at times it was funny but also stressful.

The little innuendos concerning you flew over Adelita’s head but everyone else was getting them. They were getting so vicious that Coco and Gilly started another bet on who would swing first.

The event was concluding when things got downright ugly. Angel once again voiced his concerns of Rio dating you. Rio had enough and went for the low blow. “You’re just mad because I already took your girl and I’m about to take your city and your ring.”

Coco and Gilly’s bet was long forgotten as Angel went for Rio. “Don’t be mad, Reyes. I’m just spitting facts. If I’m wanna keep it hunnid, if I threw the right amount of cash, I could have your other girl too.”

“RIO!” You scolded him trying to pull him away. Thank god, Adelita was nowhere near to hear that little bit.

“Nah, babe fuck that.” Rio shrugged you off of him and stood toe to toe to Angel. “You ain’t on top no more big dawg. Get use to it.”

Angel just shook his head and turned around like a wounded animal. “Coco, give Gilly his money.”

“What?” Coco asks too late because Angel threw the first punch at Rio. And once they started fighting it was hard to get them to stop. Even Gilly couldn’t hold Angel. It wasn’t until you did something that they stopped.

Bishop tried to stop you once he noticed what you were attempting to do, but you slipped right past him. The boys were in between blows giving you the perfect opportunity to step in the middle of them. As soon as you became an obstacle each man lowered their fist.

Angel actually started to cower some when he saw your face. This was like your training face but a thousand times worse. Rio never saw you this pissed and he was beginning to get scared to breath the wrong way. Either way both men knew to shut the hell up.

Facing Angel first, you shoved him in the chest. “Angel Ignacio Reyes, I know you were raised better than this.”

“I’m sorry.” Angel mumbled, his eyes downcasted.

“And you!” You faced Rio, pointing a finger in his face. “I’ll deal with you when we get home.”

“Next time leave your petty bullshit for the football field.” You told the both of them before heading out without even waiting for Rio.

Damn, you knew you should’ve stayed your behind at home.

Tagging: @tashawar @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @starrynite7114 @sambucky8 @mygirlrenee @richonne4life @readsalot73 @chaneajoyyy @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @jassydwill11 @otomefromtheheart @miss-nori85 @xsweetdellzx @cocogodess15 @ljstraightnochaser @my-rosegold-soul @angrythingstarlight @brattyfics @lovebennycolon @langiinspirations @chibsytelford @trulysuccubus @spookys-girl @sesamepancakes @literaturefeen @brownsugarcoffy @thesandbeneathmytoes @fvckthisbxtchup @theartisticqueen @vsfavs @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @angelreyesgirl @woahitslucyylu @marvelmaree @blessedboo

#black!reader #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x black!reader #angel reyes x plussized!reader #angel reyes x black!plussized!reader #Mayans mc #frizzlefic #frizzlesfic #frizzlewrites #angel reyes

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simplive · 4 years ago

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you will become a memory.

manhunt au! dream team, badboyhalo. general hunter mini headcanons

caution. death, insane sapnap per usual, maybe hints of yandere

DREAM.

─ “to hunt or be hunted.”

to be the hunter when he is usually the hunted is uncommon, but it is welcomed all the same ─ dream will revel in your fear from start, to finish as long as he possibly can. confident enough in his abilities to let you roam about in the world for a lengthy period of time because the direction of this compass will always point to where you resided. he’s not even worried when you reach the nether. whatever pace you decide to go about, will he respectively follow a suit, choosing to be calm and calculating. you don’t hear him ever speak from the ear piece, only the sounds of his shoes crushing the leaves below him as he gains closer, and closer towards your way. letting the impending dread crawl in.

he’ll let you have that sense of security, before tearing it all away.

to strike fear in others... it is what he does best.

sometimes you can get him to have conversation, just not for long. no larger than five minutes because he always returns to the same withdrawn, quiet self everyone knows him by. maybe smart, funny comments here and there to fill in the initial silence, but they are all disregarded by the fact that dream is coming to kill you regardless. there’s nothing he wants to change about that, you both signed yourself for this situation... he’s simply going to honor what it takes to be a professional, merciless hunter. an unofficial title he silently wears like an emblem. so you were doomed from the very start the moment it’s been heard who’d be tracking you down exactly.

out of everyone, they send out him, making you wonder as if the whole world wanted you to perish.

death is to be expected. you can still be good friends and still die at his hands. you’ll let him, won’t you? it’s destiny, your destiny, and everyone knows nobody can escape it once their future has been set, written in stone. what is there to have hope for? a painless death, maybe, depends on how dream feels that exact moment ─ their pain is what makes up a part of the amusement in the chase. although, it’s not like he’s going to drag it out unlike a close friend of his. do not fret, you’ll go down in history as the first prey he’s bothered to open up to... isn’t that good enough?

so why does his heart still pang at the thought?

no no, these are just mindless feelings, barely skin-deep. they’ll go away within seconds if he pays them no attention, just getting his objectives over with and moving onto the next victim. he’s doing this all for survival, and who knows... you’d do the exact same if you too wanted to live. this is a dog-eat-dog world, you either kill someone, or get killed. in fact, because you’re inflicting these unknown emotions on him gives dream more motivation to follow through with these objectives.

he’ll have you until your last breath.

GEORGE.

─ “love me until you die.”

george wants you to be comfortable and scared at the same time, he doesn’t want you to think of him as only a monster like the others. see? there’s still a bit of mercy in him to let you slide at times, shaking it off as a ‘silly little mistake’ of his, but it’s all planned. always has been. he doesn’t like to say this much, but, he pities your situation. the game cannot end until one completes the objectives... and by the looks of it, you’re nowhere as close to the finish line. be free to ask for tips or pointers whenever, he’s generous to share what he thinks will benefit you. it’s up to you whether you trust him or not, there is no offense to be taken, he’d have a hard time believing in your situation.

you can try to talk him out of this for a chance, but a job is a job, someone has to get this done.

and who knows what’ll happen to him if he doesn’t follow through.

your moments together were only meant to be full on bittersweet. you hate that he still tries to be nice against all, as if your life wasn’t placed in his hands to begin with. it would’ve been so much easier to despise george if he’d been vile, heartless, cruel even... but he isn’t. he’s kind, too kind, and you’re starting to think that maybe this was just your unescapable fate. something that transpired during your blurred life was apparently unacceptable for you to live on, it’s starting to finally make sense. no one can elude destiny as much as they pray. of course, when given a chance to slip from death, you’d take it without hesitation... but if all doesn’t go well, then that’s alright too.

everything should be okay if george is here, with you.

will you tell him these sentimental views, especially when you’re lying carelessly on the verge of death? absolutely not. he’d start to feel bad, and that’s the last thing you’d want from him. he’s only doing his job like anyone else, this is somewhat normal despite a few circumstances. you’ll keep reminding yourself anytime despair tries to reach out to you, pulling away from its tantalizing vicinity. don’t go back on this choice, don’t let the sadness take you.

don’t let him regret.

with your head perched comfortably onto his lap, blood spilling at your lips as you try to confess multiple things all at once, then failing miserably. they come out as a garbled mess of sounds unsurprisingly, rather faint to the ears, but there’s enough affection to get through him. you’ll squeeze his hand weakly in hopes of delivering a message, certainly woozy and content nonetheless. he smiles, smiles sadly at the result of his success, but this is what george had desired the whole time.

a chance to spill out his true feelings for you.

SAPNAP.

─ “look at me in the eyes.”

perhaps the most happiest one of the bunch to end someone’s life for the fun of it, quickly that is. he doesn’t want to waste time chasing after you endlessly all over the world, takes too much energy and patience... sapnap prefers to have you right in front of him so he can get right into action. there’s no point in running, everyone knows this. you do too, but such fact could never stop you from trying anyways ─ why not take advantage of that ten percent chance survival rate than do nothing at all? even he somewhat agrees with this new knowledge. there’s no fun in having a compliant little mouse. despite the obvious frustration of tracking you down, he knows it’ll be worth it in the finale when seeing you beg.

always, always looking forward to new targets. everyone is unique: their reactions, their struggles, every part of them. it’s good to have a taste of something refreshing and new. for being the type of person he was, having the same type of people to play with is completely boring, hunting would’ve became a tedious chore at that point. sapnap is ecstatic to hear about you. not much information was disclosed about you, there must be something intriguing then for the lack of story.

he hopes you won’t disappoint him.

sometimes he’ll let his ‘guard down’, sometimes. it’s only to get you motivated again because hopelessness will begin to bore him exceedingly. “don’t give up completely, little [name],” sapnap coos sickeningly, “maybe you’ll have a chance if you actually try for once. should i be nice like george, and give you another head start?” his encouragement, if you could even call it that are down right patronizing, doesn’t try to hide any malicious undertones because he’s confident his words will affect you just the way he wanted.

the fun can’t go on forever. he wants you to suffer for everything you’d put him through. sapnap did not waste three full days trying to corner you, shedding sweat, effort, and time in doing so for you to try and come up with some other excuse for him not to kill you. no, you’re misunderstanding, that’s not what he’s here for. money? no. fame? absolutely not. if it wasn’t any obvious,

he’s here to feed on your fear.

BAD.

─ “forgive me.”

like george, does manhunts because he has to, and it is quite absurd. bad has a huge problem with others having a foul mouth, but happens to not have any qualms raising a blade at someone’s throat. what kind of morals were those? he too questions these actions like any sane person would, however, does not do anything to change his ways because... it’s not in his power. what good would it do to suddenly just switch mindsets all of a sudden, superiors will start to question him and everyone he’d grown to love would suspect. to quit then would be breaking the code, and that’ll be like breaking someone’s trust. bad shouldn’t do it, he’s always reminding himself.

he shouldn’t...

and still, he’s probably the only one who has the hearts to let you go.

for first impressions, bad certainly doesn’t strike you as a hunter. he takes the time to introduce him properly, salutations and a heartfelt apology. you ask, why apologize so suddenly, we just met. he can’t do anything other than sigh, letting the silence answer your question. well, you’re currently the first one on his list, the first to die at that. he’s just here for warnings, letting you gain a huge head start...

calls you muffin as another form of affection. strikes to be strange at first, but you slowly get used to the nickname as you do him, able to enjoy the situation because it’s starting to feel like a nice game of a fusion of hide and seek, and good ol’ tag. he hasn’t been able to physically hurt you once, or at least is trying to make it seem like a mistake ─ missing opportunities, or forgetting to. whatever the case may be, you’re not complaining one bit. in fact, you too haven’t tried to raise a blade at him either.

why would you even?

your kindness is limitless, and it proves when bad cannot fathom hurting you under any circumstances. most of his victims were very aggressive, always cussing at him no matter the context, maybe that’s why guilt hasn’t officially hit him until now. the you who still manages to laugh despite everything, thank you for letting him see the horrors of his actions. “will... i’ll be able to see you again?” you murmur, unsure if you should turn your back on him and leave.

“... maybe some day! for now, you should go. be careful though, some might recognize your face as well.”

he never tells you that his life would be of no more, and he lets you go, the oblivious one, with a bittersweet smile.

#dream team #dream team x reader #dteam #dteam x reader #dream #dream x reader #georgenotfound #georgenotfound x reader #george x reader #sapnap #sapnap x reader #badboyhalo #badboyhalo x reader #manhunt au #[ everyone is chillin n #then theres bad ]

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dontmindifidontt · 3 years ago

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EARLY MORNINGS AND OVERTIME | Chapter 3: Nanami's POV

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Reader (fem, first person pov) Word count: 1873 Fic Summary: A smutty fic in which Nanami Kento brightens up the mundane, flour-dusted life a college dropout working in a bakery. Chapter Summary: That Day from Nanami's pov. Warnings: None yet.

Read on AO3. Masterlist. Please feel free to ask me to correct anything in the above info, this is my first fic and I want to be sure I’m following all fic-posting etiquette. Ty!

11 am. That day.

Phone calls with angry clients. Emails with angry clients. More calls. More clients. Still angry. Pacing back and forth in the cramped office kitchen waiting for the coffee to brew. More emails. Another call, this time with a not so happy investor. Checking the clock. Still waiting for that coffee. Still only sticking around in this job for the money.

I lean back in my chair and drum my fingers atop my nearly bare desk, resting my chin in the palm of my other hand. If I quit now, I begin to muse, I'd have saved up enough to last me a few years before needing to find work elsewhere. No, I wouldn't want to return at all. I need to wait longer so I can be out for good. Though I don't know how much longer I can take...

Check the clock again, it's 11:50am. The slightest twinge of excitement escapes through the deafening exhaustion in my brain: it's almost lunch. I figure I'll grant myself the short break to think it over and come back to my desk with a clear mind.

I rise and sling the grey jacket of my suit back on, pushing my chair in and quickly making way for the elevator. It's Friday and my usual spot for lunch has stopped selling my go-to, so I ought to try somewhere new. Perhaps it wouldn't kill me to buy from an actual bakery, it's not like I can't afford to stray from my usual convenience store.

The walk isn't far, but I take the time to consider my options, consider my future. All I want is to live life on my own time, without distraction from work or other people's problems. Everywhere I look, all I see are problems. Money problems, loneliness, or even worse, all the problems cursed energy brings. I try to shut it out and stick to myself. I tell myself that's not my job anymore.

I spot the bakery ahead and the negative thoughts begin to clear from my mind. To put it plainly: food makes me happy, it's one of the simplest pleasures I enjoy. I can't help but at least briefly forget the problems of the world when I'm about to take a bite out of a favorite meal.

I pull the door open and step inside, briskly walking to the register eager to begin my lunch. Impatient, I clear my throat to signal I'm ready to pay - only to be met with a reminder of why I was so desperate to clear my head in the first place. Tilting my head to get a better view, I see it clear as day: a fly head curse wrapped around the woman at the register's wrist. In an effort to ignore it, I avert my eyes, only to meet hers.

She's a few years younger than me, though I immediately recognize the familiar look captured in her eyes. The look of someone who's tired, overworked, and waiting on the clock to crawl forward. There's something else in her eyes, though, almost a bit of wonder. Is that aimed at me?

"Just the sandwich, please," I say while taking out my wallet, trying not to stare. There's no denying she has a pretty face, a beauty that appears effortless or natural, even when overtired from what I imagine was a long week of work. How one person can manage to look so charming even when carrying around the weight of a fly head I have no idea.

I notice she looks to the side before she speaks again, as if she has to look away to concentrate on what she's going to say next. She asks if I'd like a receipt and I decline, still watching over her pretty features and beginning to feel badly she has to work with that extra weight on her wrist. I'm usually better at ignoring this... there's just something about her expression. I can almost feel a sense of silent, shared exhaustion between us. I'm sure she works just as hard as I do, and she does it with a curse hanging off her body, and yet here she is smiling up at me when I'm just a customer who makes her day even busier.

I can barely make it to noon on a Friday without threatening to quit.

I turn to walk away only to hear her voice call out behind me, "come again please." With that request, something clicks. I pause as I reach the door. I tell myself these next words are based not only off of my attraction to her, but also out of a want to help someone whose work actually means something. It wouldn't cause me any harm to remove that fly head... in fact, I'm sure helping her live a more comfortable life would end up positively benefitting a lot of other people in return. Her work brings sorry people like me even a fleeting moment of joy. "Thank you. I will," is all I say.

The rest of the afternoon I couldn't shake the thought of returning to the bakery. Not returning next week when I'd order another lunch, or even Monday morning when it would open again. I had to return today. But how do I just reappear to secretly exorcise a weak cursed spirit? I'd look ridiculous to the non-sorcerer eye. There needs to be another reason for my return. I could use the situation to my advantage and ask her out to dinner... It's a pretty selfish solution, I'll admit, but the excitement and nerves building up in my stomach at just the thought were confirmation enough. She had a certain glow about her despite the clear exhaustion of her work, I can only imagine how she'd clean up for a proper date.

It's decided then, I'll offer to give my help over dinner.

6 pm. That day.

I arrive at the door at 6pm as promised, with her appearing only a few seconds later. My prediction was correct - having changed from her flour-dusted work attire to a much less casual ensemble made her beauty bloom. Seeing her round the corner in a perfectly fitted dress and heels I had to hide a smile, she must have matched her attire to fit the occasion of my own.

After introducing ourselves I turn to lead the way, excited to share my favorite steakhouse with my date. I answer her question about where we're headed by stating I'd assume that she'd prefer to spend dinner somewhere totally different from a bakery.

"What's the opposite of baked goods? A sushi bar?" I catch her eye as she asked this question, and I see a gleam of excitement and joy that hadn't yet presented itself in the short time I'd known her. She looked so eager and somehow already grateful... I wanted this happiness to last. Sushi it was then.

"Now you've guessed right. It's just around the corner here," I answer while internally sighing in relief for knowing a sushi bar nearby. It's one I used to frequent in the evenings before work began to keep me at the office too late on a regular basis.

As suspected, the hostess recognizes me straight away and we're seated in my former usual spot. Sitting face to face with my date now, I can't help but stare.

She has her hair pulled back, accentuating her cheekbones and putting each beautiful feature of her face on full display. Full lips, long curled lashes, and an ability to stare at me with eyes that will me to hold eye contact without breaking.

"So, how exactly do you plan to heal the ache in my wrist, Not Dr. Nanami?"

I guess she wastes no time in getting to the point. I don't blame her, considering I'm still a stranger and all... I chuckle at the thought of how selfish this entire idea was of me once again. Taking advantage of a curse as an excuse to share a meal with someone this beautiful? I have to laugh.

I reply to her question with the the truth: that I'll distract her while I swat this weak curse away and heal the soreness. Though I wasn't expecting to do this so soon... I need to think fast on how to create a proper distraction.

In the brief time I've known her I have noticed her tendency to look away while deep in thought. I'm counting on my observation to hold true when I blurt out, "Why don't you tell me three things about yourself, and when you're done I'll do the same."

At first she's taken aback, but just as I suspected she instinctively turns her head to the side while deep in thought, searching for a response to my proposition. Now's my chance.

I raise my right hand just a few inches above the table, keeping it low enough not to catch any attention. With fingers aimed at the pesky green fly head I flick my wrist with a snap, sending it flying and disintegrating in thin air.

She doesn't get the chance to finish even the second item about herself before feeling a difference. I smile and ease up in my seat. She looks so pretty with that hint of amusement in her eye. I feel myself hungry for more... more of her expressive eyes staring up at me, pleasured and thankful.

It hasn't even been an hour and I'm enjoying her company more than I expected. Did I hear her say she likes to cook earlier? I want to keep hearing more about her...

"So you never finished," I offer as a means to continue the conversation.

As she shares more about herself I find myself relaxing more each second, soaking up just how comfortable I feel in this moment. I'm not worried about the problems of those around me, I'm not worried about watching the clock or wishing time would pass - for the first time in a long time I'm actually wishing for the opposite.

"So you stay out of people's business, and yet here you are providing unsolicited help to me along with asking me to describe details about myself over dinner?" she asks. I barely let out an audible laugh at the way she worded this - a fair question no doubt.

"Both of those things are correct, yes," was all I let up in my response. I could never tell her the true explanation behind this date, the way I used a weak cursed spirit to my advantage. I'd sound beyond unbelievable and absurd.

We continued to play slightly coy and stare back at one another, enjoying the solitude of each other's company. By the time our meals were finished and the check arrived it felt as if the day I experienced this morning and evening I'm experiencing right now were a part of two entirely different years. Can meeting just one person make such a difference?

I closed server's book with the signed check inside and stood to pull out her chair. "Shall we?" I ask while lifting my forearm for her to hold on to as she stood. "How about I walk you home?"

.........

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Thank you for reading! Please inbox me to be tagged or to say hi :)

#jjk nanami #Kento Nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #nanami fluff #nanami x reader #slow burn #jjk smut #nanami pov #nanami jjk #there will be smut I promise #protective nanami #kento nanami #fanfic

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everafterkeiji · 4 years ago

Text

Song: Paper Rings by Taylor Swift

Summary: Hanamaki finally seals your fate by proposing to you- with a crappy ring that is.

Pairings: Takahiro Hanamaki x fem! reader

Word count: 6.9k

Genre: absolute fluff and crack, curse words

A/N: not me screaming when i had this idea, I've never felt more single in my life- brb bawling my eyes out- also let's pretend their in the same classes✋

Well, fate isn't something to be entirely trusted upon and neither should Hanamaki.

"Aw, shit."

He cusses when you bump into him, considering his incredibly tall figure, you were caught off guard on who you even crashed into. A small clink sound lands on the floor as you immediately face the boy who was looking at the ground, quite weirdly searching his pockets.

"Sorry- wait you're Hanamaki right?" You asked him, familiar with his hair color. You've seen him play countless of times due to the support of the school for each of their games yet you've never been this close with him. With his state, you immediately question what's got him so frantic.

He eyes the pen that was dead on the floor and he pouts before crouching down to reach it before he dusts off the dirt on it. He opens the cap of it before mindlessly writing on his hand and frowning even more when the ink didn't held its usual consistency- every stroke of a word had it loosing its pigment.

"Man, 'Kawas gonna kill me." He sighs before putting his hands and pen in his pocket as he looks at you surprised. How can he dismiss that he'd bump into you? He immediately bows in a way to apologize to you, completely forgetting that you were the one to hit him.

You knew he was pertaining to the well known setter but you were solely confused in what he was so worried about. Looking at the pen in his pocket, you saw how the ink was full but there were black spillage in the inside. You raise your eyebrow in confusion.

Did he just drop a new pen?

"I'm sorry I dropped your pen- I can let you borrow mine." You propose to him as he takes the pen in his hands admiring it like a wound in someone's arm. Seeing how you were scrambling in your bag to reach for your pencil case, his eyes sparkled at how it contained numerous pens, highlighters and mechanical pencils.

"Looking at the murder you caused, I'm simply asking for more than one pen then."

You tilt your head in curiosity but instead you opened your pencil case as he digs his hand in there picking three pens making you want to scoff at how he picked the gel pens that were your favorite. He looked at each one, writing on his palm if everything was working. He raises an eyebrow at you making you question if this was a fever dream because of how random it was- he acted like he was in a stationary section and it benefitted him that this particular section was free.

He then takes your hand causing you to internally yelp at his actions. Your eyes trail to what he was writing, you noticed it was his name instead. You look up at him as he smiled. Once he finishes writing, he extends his hand out while with the other hand held a pen ready for you to take.

"What's your name?" He asks processing on your features and asking himself why he's seen you dozens of times yet he's yet to get your name.

"Y/N." You say as he gestures for his hand as if telling you to write it. Somewhat following your instincts, you write your name on his hand. After it, he peeks the spelling of it and then casually shakes your hand as introduction.

"See you around, Y/N! You saved my ass with those pens so I guess I owe you one."

"Those are expensive."

"Now hold on there-"

That was how you met and the universe couldn't even joke about how they put you two together.

Now here you two are, invested in a stare off as Matsukawas sleepy eyes often switch his gaze between you and his best friend.

"Makki, it's in a week."

"I specifically remember it's the week after that."

"You two are hopeless." Issei comments making you laugh as Makki pouts at how you agreed with him. Nevertheless, Matsukawa leans his head on his arm ready to fall asleep at any moment. You return to arranging your notes while Makki twirls a pen in his hands while glancing at you once in a while.

Truth be told, it seems that fate still worked its way to the both of you. Ever since your-rather unique- encounter, a friendship was bound to happen. He surely made an impression on you and how could you miss to not be around him? Soon enough, you were also introduced to his teammates and you disliked how it strengthened your bond with him. There was comfort in his presence and to see him fool around with his teammates always radiated an amazing energy between you and him.

You also wanted to thank Oikawa for being somewhat the reason your conversation led to where you are now.

"What'd the pen do to make you this- scared?" You asked as he puts both hands behind his head, leaning on the seat.

"It's a scary pen when it belongs to Oikawa." You turn to him confused as you rest your chin on the palm of your hand, ears perking up at how interesting it was.

"You're telling me you don't own a single pen and you always borrow Oikawas?" He scoffs with a smile before looking at you.

"Of course I bring pens, it's just better if it was from him." You let out a loud laugh, finding it hard to believe this was the sole reason Oikawa would commit murder on him. Hanamaki smiles at the sound of your laugh before shaking his head, at awe at the situation.

It was a coincidence how Oikawa always found a way to strike a nerve to Hanamaki when you visit them in the gym. He knew that beyond his teammates calm composure was a boy who undoubtedly likes you. Ever since Hanamaki returned the pen to him, he knew it wasn't his and in his mind, he asked himself who could've lent him a pen, more so that he had three brand new ones.

So when he sees you tagging beside him, he's taken his first lead to figure the two of you out. After a few more observations, he's convinced that you two were just blind to the feelings that were lingering around.

He's told Iwaizumi about it but all he got was a lecture on how he should let Hanamaki take it easy with asking you out. Which he also argued since it was taking too long, making Iwaizumi land him a smack to the head.

He had his boundaries, maybe not for himself, but for his friends he was more than willing to wait for this relationship to come together.

"So- a date? That's cool right? I mean arcades and shit."

"Makki, you're a loser."

"Arcades are awesome shut up."

"Yeah, for sure. Like Y/N is interested in 'arcades and shit'." Mattsun chuckles as Hanamaki lets out another pout as he sinks in his bed.

"I mean- we've gone on hang outs, she likes them anyway!" He argues making Mattsun shake his head with an amused smirk on his lips.

"So you're telling me you've actually had dates with her then?" Issei asks as Hanamaki shrugs making the other boy groan at the lack of response. Hanamaki raises his head, pursing his lips at the actual thought.

You have actually gone on multiple dates with him. If you could even call it that. To Makki, he thought they were just subtle friendly things but he realizes how he's actually grown some fondness in each place.

"Y/N no I'm telling you- if I were the mastermind, we'd be successful." He argues before taking a sip from his drink. You rolled your eyes as you let your mind ran through the scenarios of having a heist with him and the boys.

You two just finished a heist movie and now you had to endure Makkis fantasies of how it would go down if the characters were him and the rest of the volleyball team. He was so invested in it that you actually had an entire plot and characterization for each teammate.

He argued that he'd be the best mastermind to ever conjure a plan for a heist. A stealthy ninja is what he says he mimics. You tried to argue that Iwaizumi would be good at it, since you noticed how responsible and at control he was but it had Hanamaki listing his reasons.

"No one would ever notice me! Because you know what- their attention would be on Oikawa! Then boom, get in the getaway car with a shit ton of money and thanks to who? Me of course." You let out a laugh making him stop his occupied thoughts to take a look at you. He adores the sound of it too much, especially since he was the usual cause of it. He sees the way you were wiping your eyes with the scenarios he'd told you.

Then your laughter slowly fades when you started to eat again as Makki admires you and how you've effortlessly got his mind to set more dates just to see you this happy.

You look up from your previous position, looking at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Wait, where am I in the heist then?"

He looks at you, almost blurting out the initial idea he had for you in this specific role.

Honestly, I'd spend the money on you. Take you anywhere you wanted to go, Y/N.

That was what he wanted to say but his mouth translated it to a different saying.

"You could die-"

"Makki!" You shouted playfully, ruffling his hair. He laughs but unknowingly, his hand lands on top of yours when you sat back down.

"Excuse you, I can be a good distraction and assistance for action." You commented making him scoff.

"Yeah like you'd be able to hold a gun for a second."

"Please, I had Oikawa beg me to delete a photo of him."

"Okay maybe you are powerful."

You laughed once again, not even feeling how right it was for you to be holding hands like this. It felt comforting yet it brought your heart to speed up like it was in a marathon. You wondered if Makki felt the same, or was this another act of friendliness?

"I wouldn't want you to get hurt though." He whispers, making you smile and blush at the same time. As if it was another point on the score board for how many times he's had your heart go on a frenzy.

"Well, that's what the great mastermind is for right? To keep us safe and succeed?" You say, making him give a gentle squeeze to your hand, as you glanced down on them enjoying the way it looked.

As if I'm gonna let anyone lay a hand on you, Y/N. You're safe with me always.

After a few sly times where he'd hold your hand while you crossed the street or even tugging on your jacket when passing through a huge crowd so he doesn't lose you, he's realized he would absolutely drop the stars for you. He doesn't know whether he should feel terrified because of how he could put your friendship at risk but then he feels- almost relieved that the first person he could ever love is you.

It shouldn't even be difficult to ask you to hang out. You'd usually respond a second after he asks you, it's not even that big of a deal.

Now it's different.

He's finally gotten a clutch on his feelings and he thinks about his next moves. He often just let things happen, loving the way the moments just flowed naturally and perfect in some way but now he's choosing his words since he didn't plan on confessing in such a dorky way- especially when he just says it out loud without proper practice.

"Why don't you ask Oikawa for help then?" Issei suggests making the boy shake his head at the thought already.

"Do you know how much blackmail that idea comes with? He'll never live it down." Hanamaki says as he scrolled through his phone, almost frowning at the thought of humiliation coming from their captain.

"C'mon! He knows a lot of shit about flirting and dates! Maybe even help you in confessing, idiot."

He thinks about that deeply. Each member of the team would have completely diverse answers. As of the mean time, the only proper suggestions he'd get is from Iwaizumi, Oikawa and Mattsun. Though Mattsun has given him plenty of advices, he knew Oikawa was at the top for someone's idea of romance. The man has fangirls, he's obviously heard and experienced many hopeless romantic scenes in his life.

Iwaizumi would've actually been a lot of help knowing the guy is very good at maintaining control and responsibility. He'd give the proper date ideas, the mood to set. He looked like the perfect blueprint for Hanamaki to copy. He also believed that Iwaizumi would think nothing of these advices so it's a win-win if you ask him.

"Right, okay. I got this."

"Why me though?" Iwaizumi asks as Hanamaki spikes another ball.

"Look Iwa- I genuinely trust your judgment more. I just need help." Iwaizumi chuckles before collecting another ball.

"Fine fine. Just meet me after practice."

Hanamaki cheers when he hears him, even smiling now that he can figure out a way to show you how much he likes you.

Sure, he's doing it unintentionally sometimes. Tiny signs that should show you how he is absolutely in love with you. He'd show this in various ways as well. It comes as an instinct in some way. He'd hit you with a "let's have lunch" and you'd gladly accept. Mattsun has pointed out that Makki has already made a move on you countless of times but it had Makki questioning the depths of being friendly and going through courting you.

You haven't even made things official yet these so-called dates had your classmates wondering how your relationship started, even if it hasn't. Makki would always lean his head on your shoulder during lunch, to rest his brain from the lessons. For you, it's nothing. Makki has always been like this after you got comfortable with each other. This affectionate side of him even had Mattsun wonder why on Earth would he ask for help when he clearly doesn't need it.

The three of you are now seated in a lecture, boredom crossing your minds but Mattsun's mind was rattled by Hanamaki. After their conversation about asking help from Oikawa, he thought that Makki would actually go through the plan. Looking back on his motives with you, he just doesn't see a reason why he needs assistance from the setter. He can handle this all on his own, so scribbling down on a piece of paper, he throws it to Hanamaki who awakens by the action.

Hanamaki yawns as he opens the crumpled paper, his eyes widening and cheeks heating at the group of words.

'You can literally just confess to her now, even without shittykawa.'

He glares at Mattsun while the other boy shrugs with an expression that says "seriously, it's not that deep." He huffs before grabbing a pen and replying to his previous statement, then throwing it again.

'Try confessing to the girl you like during a lecture, Sherlock.'

Mattsun chuckles as Makki crosses his arms in front of his chest. His eyes land on you, who is fixated on the lecture. He smiles softly at the idea of a date with you, but this faint moment was ruined when Mattsun directly throws the ball of paper to Hanamakis face, earning a chuckle from some of his classmates.

He opens with eyebrows furrowed, annoyed at the shot.

'Not now dumbass, after classes. Just go up to her and say you like her, it's that easy dude.'

Hanamaki turns to him mocking his words while Mattsun rolls his eyes as Makki writes again. As he was about to throw the paper in Mattsuns direction, a student raised their hand hitting the paper and it suddenly landed on the floor beside you instead. The boys had their eyes widen as you saw the paper.

In a flash, Hanamaki picks up the piece of paper before you could grab a hold of it and you let out a gasp when he suddenly appeared in front of you. You blinked at him as he slowly walked away, wide eyed, to avoid conflict with the teacher.

You and Mattsun share a look together as you looked away, utterly speechless at what just happened. When you looked away, Mattsun hides his laughter by stuffing his face in his arm as Makkis cheeks never grew out of its red shade.

Meanwhile, Mattsun finally held a memory that he can never forget.

"It's not a big deal. You guys have been friends for so long. I don't think Y/N would mind." Iwaizumi comments making Hanamaki silent.

Can you really feel the same way?

A year of knowing you- should that be enough to fall in this deep? Is there even a requirement before someone can confess? Because in a span of time knowing you, there wasn't a moment where he regretted anything. He could thank the universe for one stupid pen, maybe even Oikawa. Everything that led to where you are now, he's never been more contented in his life.

During movies, your favorite spot was to lean your head on his shoulder. To just sling your arm around his waist on the way home, holding his hand while walking through crowds, it just fits. No matter where you were, what you were doing with him, it seemed like there wasn't an extra space in the puzzle pieces, it all connected.

But you two couldn't figure it out for yourselves.

"Well, does every confession need some sort of grand gesture?" He asks Iwaizumi. The ace bites his lips before kicking a rock on the path he was walking on.

"I don't really know. What does Y/N like anyway?"

"Hopefully me." Hanamaki jokes, but he deeply wanted it to be real. He figures if all of this asking for help was going to guarantee him something good, better yet, a yes from your lips. But first, he had to answer Iwaizumis question.

"She likes simple things- you know how she likes it when I like hold her stuff and all? She also likes those weird food thingys at one date-or hang out we had- you know that scent that reminds you of a romance movie-"

"Makki, you know her this well and you're nervous for nothing. I'm sure that she'll love whatever you do- you're friends for a reason." Iwaizumi says making Hanamaki sigh, hearing those words again.

"Exactly! That's the problem. Fuck- I can't even act like I don't like her. Am I being too obvious or friendly? I don't know where the line ends or starts. I shouldn't get nervous cause it's her- she doesn't care what I do- she's happy with whatever but I just want it to be.. perfect." He rants and ends it with a tired sigh. God, he was getting frustrated. At this point his feelings were overwhelming him, he just needed an outlet for it.

He can't just act like the sight of your smile doesn't make him smile as well, or even just seeing your sleepy state when you walk into class. If his heart didn't flutter whenever you were around, maybe by then you couldn't call it admiration but he just fell and there wasn't a way to stop him.

He didn't wanna stop either.

"Mattsun." You say as Mattsun lets out another laugh as you roll your eyes. It was after practice and since Takahiro couldn't walk you home because he told you he had to talk to Iwaizumi about something, Issei was the one to walk you home.

"This is gold." He states making you shove him a bit. He smiles when he sees you pout. This is where he decides. He could literally say how Hanamaki was asking him for advices like you are right now, but a side of him just wants to see what Makki could do. It was all too funny for him, even if hated how oblivious you two were.

If Hanamaki was falling for you with each day, you did the same. It was inescapable. You met him during second year and the fact that he had you tugging on your heart strings, it was something you can't ignore.

"What exactly are you doing?"

"I'm studying, 'Hiro. What's up?" You asked him as he raised an eyebrow at you. You stopped writing to look at him fully.

"We're at a mall." He states like you didn't know. It was bizarre to go to a mall cafe and your purpose was to study when you were with the spontaneous Hanamaki. That's on you for getting distracted on your strict teachers subject.

"Yes, Makki. I know that." He lets out a pft then takes the notebook of yours, closing it. Even putting on the caps of your pens and placing them back in your pen pouch. He also grabs your bag and placing all of those items inside.

You didn't stop him though. You've had enough with 'studying either way'. You'd die if saw how you weren't even taking notes, you were actually writing about how beautiful his eyes were. You were just purely lucky that he didn't care what you were writing because he thought it was about school.

"Happy now?" You asked him as he nods with a childish grin.

"Super. Let's go, cutie." Your eyes widened with his statement so you turn your head away to sling the backpack on your shoulder but he stops you before you could.

He removes his hoodie and hands it to you, making you stare at him.

"What for?"

"It's hot- well duh it's cold, Y/N. C'mon I wanna go to cinema. " He says nonchalantly as you take the hoodie and wear it. What causes you to stop midway was when he pulled down your blouse to prevent it from rising up when you wore his jacket. After placing your arms in, you blushed at minimal gesture.

It made Hanamaki let out a cough, when he did it like a reflex, not even thinking about it.

"Cutie huh?" You teased making him roll his eyes, though he was thankful that you broke the silence.

"Yeah no shut it."

There were many more memories that could list out why you liked him but maybe they just held the same reason.

"Leave him a note then if you can't say it in person." Mattsun suggests, even though he wishes he could've said something else. He doesn't know if that was a good suggestion or not. This could ruin whatever Makki was planning on doing. He should ask him about his plan later on so he can tell you what not to do in order for his best friend to succeed.

You reached the front of your house as you gave Issei a hug, to thank him. He pats your hair as your pull away from him.

"Hey, you've got this. It's you and Makki." He says smiling, assuring you. You nod at him as you sent a wave, him doing the same then walking away.

When you entered your room, your phone rang. Seeing Makkis name light up your room had you answering it in a heartbeat.

"Makki, what's up?"

"Hey, I just called to say I'm sorry I couldn't walk you home today. " He says running his fingers through his hair. He did want to walk with you but he trusted Mattsun. He couldn't waste the time Iwaizumi gave him for advice.

"It's fine, 'Hiro. Mattsun and I are fine." He smiles at what you said, while you left your phone on the nightstand you decided to change out of your uniform. While Makki decides on what to say next.

"Hey Y/N?" He calls for you, once you were done dressing up, you took the phone lying down on your bed.

"Yeah?"

"Wanna go out, for real this time?"

"I'm gonna go sleep." He says, biting his tongue, despising how he couldn't say it. He hears you yawn on the other end of the line.

"That's a lie but night Makki Makki!" You said chuckling as his ears turned red at the nickname. He shakes his head with a smile.

"Goodnight, dumbie."

"Hey! I called you a decent nickname."

"Wow okay then. Goodnight, princess."

Hold up, he said what?

I said that?

He quickly ends the call before you could let out a comment on what he just said. A wave of panic rushes to him not knowing your reaction. You covered your face with the pillows the surrounded you, letting out a frustrated scream.

Fuck.

The morning comes and Hanamakis heart was racing like he going to attend a deadly match but in reality he was just going to confess. He's set all the things that he needed for today, mostly the materials but he himself wasn't nearly as ready.

He's going to wear a uniform. How the fuck do you make that look presentable and polished? Should he wear a new hoodie for you to wear afterwards? Just- how?

He's been staring at himself for too long then he hears his parents call for him saying that Mattsukawa was at his front porch. He sighs before grabbing his bag and heading out of his room.

"So you ready?" Issei asks as Hanamaki shrugs. He wanted it to end right away but then again he wants things to slow down while he sees your reaction when does it.

"Fuck no. Iwaizumi helped me with a few things, he said something about gifts so I searched for some." Mattsukawa nods, as he thinks about what you were up to. Can it actually happen now? The two idiots would finally have the guts to confess on the same day?

"Honestly, this will be very entertaining. What time?"

"I was thinking kind of like after school." He says making Mattsukawa agree with him. It benefits the both of you. Never in a rush to admit, it could also give Makki some time to accomplish some of his plans.

"Do you think it'll go ok?" Hanamaki asks, almost nervous for his answer. Mattsukawa only smiles, knowing the possible ending.

"Yeah."

Betrayer. Oikawa thinks.

He lets out a pout of annoyance and when he spots you, he immediately walks over to you before Hanamaki could.

"Morning Oikawa! Have you seen-"

"Y/N-chan! I'll walk you to class today!" He says sweetly making you question in what was going on. He sees you peer your head over his shoulder, looking for Hanamaki which made him scoot a bit so your vision was blocked. Realizing that Hanamaki probably hasn't arrived yet, you shrugged.

"Okay, Tooru."

As Oikawa slings his arm around your shoulder, he could feel Takahiros stare as he walked with you. Even Iwaizumi had to double take on what he just saw.

"What's with him?" Hanamaki asks, feeling a slight burn in his heart when he sees you laughing with the pretty setter.

"I don't know, maybe he's just bugging her." Iwaizumi comments, making Makki roll his eyes. Mattsun takes notice of his behavior and lets out a chuckle.

"Aww, seriously. It's Oikawa! He's not going to steal your girl." Hanamaki blushes at his words and the boys eye his reaction, making them laugh at the change. Makki rolls his eyes before letting out a sigh, an act as if to reassure himself that things would go according to plan.

When Makki enters the room and meets your eyes, you already flash him a smile gesturing for him to seat with them. Oikawa sends a glare in his way making Mattsun lazily raise an eyebrow to the setter. Oikawa turns his attention to you once again, his chin on his palm as he stares at you.

"You're so pretty Y/N-chan! Wouldn't want that to go to waste do we?" Your ears couldn't really believe what you just heard. A sea of gasps echoed through the room when the compliment left Oikawas mouth. Murmurs of how luck you were started to spread and Makki was stood frozen.

"Flirting with my best friend isn't cute, shittykawa." Hanamaki comments, a distinct tone in his voice that didn't sound all too jokingly. The word best friend rings in your head as you actually felt a strike to your heart with his words.

How can you confess like this when you're down to rejection?

You felt like Hanamaki gave you a wake up call. Is this really the farthest you could go? Just friends? You let out a sigh, suddenly throwing away your previous plans of admitting your feelings for him. You gripped the pen in your hand as you tried not to be controlled by the pain.

Mattsukawa sees how your hand was trembling, replaying what Makki said, he nudges the boy next to him who was busy giving a cold shoulder to Oikawa. Mattsukawa prays that Hanamaki realizes what he just said.

Hanamaki feels the harsh nudge of his best friend making him look your way, a downcast evident in your features. Before he could ask you what's got you upset, the teacher walks in making Oikawa and Iwaizumi leave. Oikawa passes by Hanamaki making the tension even more noticeable.

Mattsukawa grips Hanamakis arm, to stop his mouth from sending a snarky comment and to hold him back from a glare. Hanamaki sits in his usual place as he ponders on what's gotten you this down. Was it Oikawa? What did he tell you? Could it be something that included him?

He sincerely hopes it doesn't involve him or else his hearts going to keep aching with jealousy.

What the fuck?

That was the only question that lingered in Hanamakis head.

Throughout the day, he figured that he'd be able to avoid you without you knowing what he was doing but instead, he found himself getting distracted in the fact that you sat with Oikawa between breaks. He couldn't even focus where to put the gifts in, he's totally forgotten about his locker and the possibility of you finding about it makes him panic.

He just hated how he feels the envy consume him. It took him a while to not give in to it. He had to continue, if he didn't- he would cower away. He wasn't going to waste another chance because of Oikawa, he can promise you that.

"You think Oikawa knew something? Maybe he's actually stalling you." Mattsukawa suggests, to remind Hanamaki that he was sure the setter isn't a barrier to his plans.

"He said something to her- I just know it. She's distant with me." He says tiredly, Iwaizumi leans on his arm to whisper to Hanamaki.

"Maybe he figured out you were going to confess." Iwaizumi says shrugging, Hanamaki shakes his head.

Are you turning him down then if this was real?

A way to softly push him away and tell him that your friendship mattered more?

If this was the case, he's leading his heart to a trap.

And it went like this until Makki had to confront Oikawa, sick of the change in you. It was practice time so he had the setter to himself. He knew you were waiting for him so he decided to take matters into his own hands.

He just wanted to be yours already.

"Oikawa, what did you tell her?" He asks quietly. Even if his heart held its beat because of jealousy, he's sure that the boy he was talking to had no interest in you the same way he has. Oikawa has never shown you signs of love or any affection at all. Sure, it was fun to be around him but he looked at you as a friend, a company he can find comfort in but who's to say Makki doesn't feel nervous?

"I didn't tell her anything what are you talking about?" The boy answers making Makki sigh.

"She's avoiding me. It doesn't make sense then." Oikawa raises an eyebrow at Takahiros expression. He looked so- distraught. It starts to sink in him how the lack of your presence takes a toll on his friend and there was the tiny ounce of regret that hits his mind.

When he sees Hanamaki open his locker to reveal a boquet of flowers, his eyes widen. He then closes them immediately, cursing himself for the misunderstanding.

"Isn't that what you were supposed to give Aika?" He asks, his throat dwelling with nervousness. Hanamaki furrows his eyebrows, evidently confused in how their classmate who he is even close to, got dragged into the situation.

"What-"

"Shit."

"Oikawa!"

I hate running.

He says to himself whie doing it, he's never ran this fast before. God, now everything was at rush. He had to pack his things immediately, make sure the sweat didn't cling to him like it did. He even had to rummage through his locker to make sure everything was inside his bag. Mattsukawa was also frantic. Iwaizumi was calm enough to knock some sense into Oikawa after Hanamaki tells the news on what exactly happened.

So here he was running to your neighborhood, flowers and all because he'd be dumb enough to be the guy in Oikawas misunderstood scenario.

"Oikawa!"

"Wait okay fuck I'm sorry- I might have heard something wrong earlier." He says, a hand to the back of his neck. Hanamaki isn't sure if he should feel relieved that Oikawa doesn't have any admiration towards or feel the fucking rage to strangle him for whatever led to this.

"What exactly did you hear anyway?"

"I can't just give the flowers to Aika. I can't act like an admirer of hers, I have to confess to her myself." Hanamaki says sighing as Iwaizumi and Mattsukawa nods.

Oikawa turns his back on the trio as he frowns at the idea of you and Hanamaki not being a couple. It seems that his friendly gestures didn't actually hold anything else, he'd fallen for Aika instead. Though he feels slightly pissed that Hanamaki led you on in some sort of way.

Once he sees you, he immediately goes your way in order for you to not witness the heartbreak that was about to unfold.

"Oikawa, I was planning to confess to Y/N. Mattsukawa suggested that I try to give her the flowers anonymously at first by letting Aika bring it to her but like I said, I didn't wanna look like an unknown loser." Hanamaki lets out a puff of annoyance as Oikawa rests his hand on the boys shoulder, now that tiny ounce of guilt grew and grew.

"I'm really really sorry, Makki." He says sincerely, Hanamaki sighs before nodding at Oikaws, accepting his apology knowing Iwaizumi could lecture the boy after his slip up.

"I need to go to Y/N now." He says but Kindaichi looks at his teammate with a water bottle in hand.

"Y/N-san left hours ago." He says as Hanamaki sends a glare towards Oikawa then he looks at Kunimi just to confirm Kindaichis statement. Kunimi nods before returning back to his unbothered state. Hanamaki lets out a scream of frustration as he dashes towards Mattsukawa and Iwaizumi, Oikawa being dragged along by his shirt.

"Oi, did you two fight?"

"Long-story short he thought I was giving the flowers to Aika. Now please, lecture the damn asshole- I need to find Y/N." He basically hands Oikawa to Iwaizumi who already landed a ball to the captains head as he runs off to his locker to leave immediately.

He could never adore someone else when you remained to stay at the top of his list- since no other name follows it.

He pats down his sweat with a towel before drinking water then spraying his cologne all around him. He was in front of your room door since your parents gladly invited him in while he mentions to be quiet at the sight of the boquet of flowers in hand and now it's finally happening. He was either going to face a prize or a bucket of tears.

Here goes nothing then.

He knocks on the door as you continued to scroll through your phone but you spoke, "It's open!"

He opens it softly, before stepping in your room, closing the door in the process. You look up from your phone only to get the life knocked out of you when you see Hanamaki.

"Hey Makki-"

"Y/N please I just need to tell you something okay."

He takes the vacant spot next to you on your bed as both your hearts pounded loudly with each second. Your mind couldn't stop racing at what he was going to say if it was just flat out rejection, meanwhile Hanamaki doubts what he bought you. He carefully takes your hand with his, caressing it gently while your cheeks were heating at the moment.

"Y/N I-"

You roll your eyes before ending the call, not even caring to know who called. Meanwhile, Makki wanted to stop himself from coughing from the embarrassment.

The phone rings. Oh, fuck me.

"Go on- really sorry." You say with a slight chuckle, as he smiles, thankful you read the room at how nervous he was. Instead, he went to his bag to find a certain box. Once he finds the blue box, he takes your palm and places the object on it.

You smiled at him you opened the box, praying that you don't let out a squeal when you see what's inside.

"Paper rings?" You say chuckling as Hanamakis eyes widen, threatened to pop out of his sockets since he was in full disbelief. You laughed as Hanamaki tried to get the back from you but you ran from your bed to wear the damn thing.

"Y/N!" He yells trying to reach the box from your hands but your laughter echoes through the room.

You're too fucking cute for me. You think to yourself.

"It's a perfect fit on me, Takahiro." You say even holding out your hand with the paper ring as Hanamaki hides his face on a pillow, an attempt to hide the humiliation. He can never bounce back from this. Where was the actual matching rings that he bought? The one with yours and his initials were embedded on? Did he leave it on his desk when he was trying to figure out your ring size? He was truly fucked.

When you tried to reach for him, the ring broke since it was surrounded by tape and it didn't really held strength to it. Realizing that it was folded paper, you opened it seeing scribbles and doodles from Makki.

Y/N's ring size is 6 maybe 7?

Get the flowers that Iwaizumi suggested. Which flower was it again? The ones that symbols love? Fuck it.

Does she prefer me with this perfume or not?

She smells amazing all the time, I hate it.

God, I like her too much it's unbelievable.

I feel like I'm proposing to her but I'm not complaining.

You immediately drop the paper to look at him, switching your gaze between him and the paper. You hid your face in your hands as you wondered if this was actually reality. Hanamaki likes you back? Proposing? It was overwhelmingly cute.

Hanamaki lifts his head from the pillow and he sees you looking like you were embarrassed for him. He immediately goes to you, hands on yours as he tries to lift them off your face.

"Do you want me to kiss it better?" He teases, hopefully it was able to grab your attention, and it did. You slap his chest from how flustered you were as he laughs before taking you in his arms, playing with your hair as your mind goes blank.

"Okay maybe the secret is out but I'm serious, Y/N. I like you- so fucking much it makes me wanna buy all the shit you want if we succeed in a heist- and I never wanna stop feeling this. The ring is crappy but I've got the actual one in my room so" He pulls away from your embrace as he lifts your chin to meet with his face who was intoxicatingly close.

"Do you accept my proposal of being my girlfriend?"

"If I said no?" You teased with a smile as he chuckles before locking his lip with yours, his hand finding its way to your cheek as you immediately kiss back, the pieces finally clicking in its rightful place. He deepens the kiss as your hand finds its way to the nape of his hair, pulling him closer while his own hands make a trip to your waist who he soon finds addicting.

He pulls away, caressing your cheek as your forehead touched, smiles plastered on either faces.

"I gladly accept, 'Hiro."

"Not like I'll take no for an answer, princess."

#haikyu x reader #haikyuu!!#hanamaki x reader #mattsukawa x reader #mattsukawa issei #hanamaki takahiro #oikawa tooru #hajime iwaizumi #aoba johsai #xine's world of romance

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floatinginwords · 4 years ago

Text

Saved by the Devil (8/?) - Tommy Shelby

Summary: you go missing and a lot of people get worried

Paring: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (Not romantic..yet)

A/n: I actually wasn't gonna post today but this chapter fell out of me. Its funny how some days are tougher to write and others its like riding a wave. I hope everyone has a wonderful day :)

The man with the busy eyebrows and mustache called himself Inspector Campbell. A fucking police officer. When you came too you found yourself tied to a chair, ropes around your wrist and legs, tight against the skin cutting off blood circulation. He didn’t ask questions first. No first, was the punching against your ribs and stomach. Then your face. He didn’t give you no breaks, not like he would give you any.

“I think me and you have gotten fairly acquainted with.” The inspector say his foul breath reaching up your nostrils. Blood dribbled down your chin and nose. It was you could taste.

His men have left the room, on his orders of course. He leans on his cane as he stares at you from above. A evil smirk on his face as if he was some god looking down at his pitiful creations. You spit blood at his shoe.

He grabs your face harshly, you face scrunching up like a fish. “Tell me what you were doing with Thomas Shelby. Or I can make this night a whole lot painful for you.” He throws you back and all you do is glare at the man. Not saying a word. Not even huffing a sound.

The inspector laughs. And walks out the door. You see him point to you with his cane as he talks to the other men that were abusing you moments ago. You brace yourself for the inevitable. The torture last for hours.

******************************************************************************************

No ones seen you for three days. Ada, the first night you didn’t comeback, called Trinity. but she hadn’t seen you since the morning. The next day Ada and James went out looking through the streets at your usual spots. You didn’t have any Ada just wanted to feel as though she was doing something. You didn’t have any family or any other friends. Except one other person who may know your whereabouts. So on the third day of no trace of you, with a little nagging and encouragement from James and Trinity, Ada decided to make a call.

*******************************************************************************************

Over at May Careltons mansion, Thomas Shelby listens half heartedly to the woman discussing the progress on his horse. He could care less at the moment. He’s just thinking of ways that he could stay the night. He wasn’t a fool, he knew of Mays attraction to him. It benefited him in more ways than one.

“Excuse me, Mr. Shelby,” A maid interrupts May in the middle of whatever it was that she was saying, “You have a phone call.”

“I’m sure they can leave a message.” His eyes not leaving Mays

“Its your sister, she sounds urgent.” The maid says.

With that thought in mind, Tommy excuses himself from May.

“Ada this better be important.”

“Where the fuck are you,” Ada screeches over the phone, “Ive been trying to contact you everywhere and Polly tells me your-“

“What is it-“

“(Y/n) is missing.”

Tommy swallows hard. “I’m sure she’s around somewhere ada. How long its been?”

“Three days. No ones seen her. Tommy please, Im worried.”

Three days ago was when he last saw you. When you agreed to go to dinner with Alfie and Arthur You had left the car without another word. He wanted to follow you but decided against it. He was regretting it now.

“Ada, just calm down. Ill ask some boys to go look for her okay?” He reassures his sister over the phone promising to find you.

He hangs up.

“Is everything alright?” May asks from behind him. Her eyes were hopeful looking at him. She too was hoping he would stay though that was something she would never admit out loud.

“I have to go, family emergency.” He says. Turning his back on her without another thought.

***************************************************************

He didn’t have to leave. He knew that. He could have stayed with May have her fill that hole within his heart that Grace had left about a year ago. He owed nothing to you. He kept telling himself this over and over as he drove back, pushing the speed way past its limit. He begins to reminisce about your first meeting. You were nothing but a chess piece to him at the time but you surprised him a lot in that first meeting. Especially when you didn’t take that money he offered. He was confused to say the least. Everyone took free money. You didn’t. He remembers seeing you again at the Eden club. He though he would never see again. But there you were. He couldn’t not talk to you. He just had to. He knew he hurt you with his words. He didn’t apologize. He never apologizes. He remembers finding out Ada had a roommate. Imagine the surprise on his face when he realized it was you. Of course Thomas Shelby was always in control of his emotions so it never really showed. He was distrustful of you as he always is with people. But you showed something since your first introduction that most people didn’t show their entire lives; Honesty. And he liked that about you. He believed you when you said you didn’t work for Sabini anymore. (Of course he had his people look into it after to be 100% sure) He trusted you to go to meet his brothers, be in the same car as them, come to an auction. He remembers seeing you bloody and a mess. Guilt and rage had filled him up. He couldn’t hold himself back from shooting the guy. When he stitched you up, he liked that you tried to make conversation. You knew when to back up, you never pried. He didn’t know if that was fear of him or if that was just you. He hoped the latter. He liked the way you said Mr. Shelby, though he often wondered how his first name would sound falling off your lips. Thomas Shelby pushes these feeling aside as he drives. He tells himself he just doing this as favor to his sister and because you can be very valuable. But as he drives into the city, a piece of his mind whispers that that just might not be the only case.

*****************************************************************************************

Three fucking days. You couldn’t believe that that’s how long it lasted. The torture, the beatings. They released you on the thought that you really didn’t know anything. You never said a word. They drove you out to the fucking country side and dropped you off like you were trash. You were never more humiliated in your life. You walked, each step bring you pain and anguish. But you kept going.

‘Its Friday’ You think to yourself. You never got to call to confirm if you were going on that dinner. You laugh at yourself. Out of all things to worry about.

You find a little pond as you were walking and attempt to wash your face off all the dirt and blood. You looked half decent.

It took you till sundown to get back into London. People in the streets gawked at your face. You knew you were bruised pretty bad. Worse than before thanks to the inspector. The stitches on the right side of your body were now leaking. You can see the blood drip slowly through your hand. You sigh. Its always one problem after the next.

Once in front of the house, you see all the lights on. Something you knew Ada hated. You see multiple people moving about and you curse underneath your breath. The last thing you wanted was to interact with people. Someone looks through the window, a young boy you didn’t recognize.

“Is that her Ada?” You hear the boy loudly say not keeping his eyes off of you.

As soon as the boy says that, a multitude of people rush out to the window to look out followed by a rushing to the door. Ada being the first to run into you, bear hugging you.

“Where the hell have you been?” She cries out.

You stay silent, your arms limp across your sides. No energy left to pick them up or say anything. You wished at that moment to escape into eternal darkness forever. You see a bunch of people behind her mostly men. All in black caps and coats.

‘Peaky blinders.” You think. You step back from Adas hug and move up the stairs toward the house. The men spread apart not wanting you to push through them. You walk up the rest of the stairs to your room slowly. You can feel all their eyes burn into your back.

Once you reach your bedroom, you sit on your bed and stare at the empty wall. You couldn’t get the inspector eyes out of your head. It was like he enjoyed watching the life get beaten out of you. He talked a lot. You replay the last three days in your head trying to piece together what that crazy old man was talking about as he was ‘interrogating’ you

***************************************************************************************

As tommy walks through Adas door the first thing he realizes is that it seems that everyone is fucking here instead of doing their jobs. He watches them lounge about, eating and drinking away his sister’s stuff. He’s about to yell at them when Ada puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Tommy She came home.” She says, he notices a lack of smile on her face.

He raises an eyebrow.

“She looks like she’s been beaten all over. I mean I only saw her face but the way she was walking…” Ada trails off biting her lip.

“Im gonna talk to her.”

“Tommy I don’t think-“

Hes already at the top of the stairs before she finishes her sentence. Its not hard to figure out which room is yours. For reason being your room is the only one open. He sees your figure sitting up just staring at nothing in the dark. He clears his throat, not wanting to scare you with his unknown presence. You don’t turn around. He takes slow steps around to sit next to you on the bed. You both face the wall.

“Its Friday,” you break the silence, “I apologize for not calling about dinner.”

Right, he almost forgot that Alfie and Arthur were meeting right now.

“Never mind that,” You suddenly get up as he talking, limping around the room, “what are you doing?”

You light a candle on the other side of the room. He sees how bad your bruised face is in the light. And the blood trail your leaving with your freshly open hand.

“(y/n), you should go see a doctor.” Thomas says standing up.

“I’ve been through worse, Mr.Shelby.”

“Who did this to you?” You notice the look of controlled anger on his face.

“Inspector campbell. Know him,” You ask sarcastically,” cause he really doesn’t like you.”

You laugh and wince, the action hurting your ribs immensely, ”oh and he sure talked a lot. Kept mentioning a general, if I knew him, if I seen him, if you told me his name,” you pause, “what are you planning to do with a general?”

He doesn’t answer you. The clocks in your brain keep turning. “Cause there’s only one thought that comes to my head.”

“Why did he question you?”

“Cause you took me to the fuckers house. And your being followed by the way.” A pain strikes through your head the more frustrated you become.

“You should lie down.”

“What did you get yourself into?”

“it doesn’t concern you.”

“Look at me, how does it not?”

He stares at you and though to you he looks emotionless, inside the feeling of guilt and fear are swirling. You on the other hand cant decipher anything that going on behind those eyes.

‘maybe this what he looks like when he is lost.’ You think. You know you could lend a hand through this, whatever it is. You assume an assassination. One the police are having a hand in themselves. When inspector Campbell was ‘questioning’ you, you noticed how it didn’t seem like he cared for the generals life but feared of who got a whiff of the info. It seemed that Mr. Shelby was getting something from it, maybe with you helping so can you. A ticket out of here perhaps.

“what do you want?” He says shrugging.

“I want to help.”

read pt.9

Tags

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @evelyn-4034 @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat

#tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders #Fanfic

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bonjour-rainycity · 4 years ago

Text

The Siren

Requested by @lifm06: Jasper x Reader where the reader is a siren and Jasper’s supernatural mate, but she doesn’t want to hurt Alice after seeing them kiss. So she runs away and a rogue vampire turns her and Jasper finds her collapsed on the floor during the process. After waking up, she gets hungry for real food and this confuses the Cullens and they find out she only half-transformed but still gets all the same cool powers and stuff.

A/n Hey there, thanks for the request! For the purposes of this story, I messed with canon. Alice and Jasper aren’t married — he’s new to the Cullen family (like within a year or two) and is currently dating Alice, seeing if they’re a good fit. Also, I’ve vaguely set this one at a university, hope that’s alright!

Pairing: Jasper X Female Reader

Disclaimer: I am not making any money from this nor do I own anything recognizable

Word count: 2418

Warnings: Mild descriptions of violence

“And aside from your book selections, no homework over the weekend.” The professor grins conspiratorially at the rejuvenated atmosphere in the classroom. “You’re welcome. Enjoy Homecoming.”

Gathering my items, I exit the classroom quickly, hoping to make it to my car before anyone can flag me down. It’s been a long, stressful day, and I want nothing more than to go home and relax in a wonderfully hot bath.

“Hey, Y/n!” A high-pitched voice chirps from below my ear and a cold, skinny arm wraps around my elbow.

“Alice,” I beam, unable to be annoyed at one of my favorite friends.

“You’re coming tonight, right?”

I grimace, quickly searching for an excuse.

She squints, frustration etching lines into her usually-smooth face. As I decide on and then discard various reasons for my absence at the Homecoming party tonight, staticky visions fly through her mind, just hazy enough to prevent her from interpreting them.

She doesn’t know I know she’s struggling to see my future. She doesn’t know I know she has visions, or that Edward can’t read my mind, or that she and her family are vampires.

She doesn’t know that I’m not human.

My supernatural attributes are even more subtle than vampire’s. I look and act and feel and die just like a human, but something is off. Something is different. When I argue with someone, they agree with me. When I ask for a lower price, it’s given. When I sing, people have no choice but to follow, even if I were leading them to their death.

My voice holds all my power.

Although Alice and I are both not human, I haven’t convinced myself to tell her that I’m a siren and that I know she’s a vampire. I would, really, if not for one terrible, awful, life-ruining fact.

I’m in love with her boyfriend.

From the minute Jasper walked into the lecture hall, I knew he was it. I felt the call of the heart, the soul, the sea, whatever, because I felt it all. I felt it so strongly, I thought I might collapse under the force of it.

And he walked past my seat like I was nothing to him.

Crushing as that was, after some research, I began to understand it better. I come from a long line of sirens, so I have the benefit of being aware of other supernatural beings. To the Cullens though, I must appear to be nothing more than a Shield -- capable of blocking their powers, but a human still. There’s no way for Jasper to know my feelings, because we operate on different wavelengths. And because vampires live forever, they can take their time forming connections — it’s not immediate like it is for sirens.

So I resolved to be patient. Over the course of months, Jasper and I developed a close friendship, teetering on the edge of something more. It was thrilling, wonderful, and painful all at once.

And then, four months ago, my best friend Alice confided in me that she and Jasper had gotten together.

It had nearly broken me. And while I love Alice like a sister and would never interfere with her happiness, I also don’t want to put myself in a position where I might see her and Jasper together.

Hence my hesitance to attend the party tonight.

“I really do have a lot of homework—”

“Y/n please, half the school will be there,” she whines, tugging on my arm impatiently.

That’s true…half the school will be there…I can have a fun night and never have to see her and Jasper together. So without much more of a fight, I agree.

{***}

The party is loud and wild and messy and fun. I dance with friends and strangers alike, celebrating the success of our football team and the new school year. The gathering is much too big to be held indoors, so we dance in the moonlight, in a large clearing not too far into the forest. I’m never alone — someone always seeks me out. It’s an unintended side-effect of being a siren, one that, even after many years, I still don’t feel accustomed to.

One of my acquaintances, Cleo, pulls me to the side for another drink, and towards the entrance of the clearing, I see them.

Jasper, the one I am meant to be with, holds my best friend Alice tightly against him, kissing her fiercely.

Pain pierces deep in my stomach and I drop my cup, fighting back tears.

“I—I have to go.”

Cleo calls after me, but I’m already gone, running through the sea of people in the opposite direction, into the woods.

{***}

The moon is much higher in the sky when I finally stop running. Panting, I sink to the ground, not sure if I’m gasping from exertion or my sobs. When I go to wipe my eyes, I notice the blood on my arms. I must’ve run through brambles or thorn bushes, but I have no real memory of it.

The only thing I can remember is seeing my love with someone else.

“Why are you crying?”

I whip my head up, expecting to have been alone.

A few yards in front of me stands a man possessing the type of beauty only afforded to the supernatural.

And his eyes shine bright red.

Oh no.

“N-nothing,” I stutter, fear momentarily pushing the emotional pain to the side. “I was just taking a break from a party, but I should be getting back now.”

“Yes,” he murmurs, taking slow steps forward. “The revelry can be heard for miles — I will admit that I have been waiting for one to isolate themselves. The woods are dark and dangerous and when you mix in alcohol well…disappearances can be better-explained.”

I swallow at his menacing words, pushing myself up to my feet.

Before I can make any further movement, the man comes behind me, holding me in a vice-like grip. “Fear not, young one,” he purrs, stroking his nose along my neck. “I shall be quick.”

Resolve settles within me, and I remember who I am. I am a siren, and my voice is my power!

“You will not kill me,” I declare in the sweetest, most enchanting voice possible.

I feel him physically weaken at my words, but I waited too long to speak.

His teeth are already sinking into my skin.

White-hot pain, more horrible than anything I’ve ever experienced, rips through my body and, with a shriek of agony, I fall to the ground.

The vampire looks upon me with a mixture of regret and pity. “I will not kill you,” he murmurs, still caught under the force of my words.

And with that, he flees, disappearing into the night.

I don’t know how long I writhe on the ground, begging, screaming for someone to help me, to make the pain stop.

But it only spreads.

After what seems like an eternity, the pain covers my entire body, and my vision goes black.

{***}

“Y/n?”

Though the pain, an angelic voice floats to my ears.

I try to respond, to reach towards it, but all I can manage is a scream.

“Oh my God,” the angel breathes, horror apparent in his voice.

Is he in pain too?! Has the fire reached my beloved?!

I begin to panic, trying to claw through the pain to get to him.

“Shh, shh, it’s alright,” the voice soothes, pulling me into an embrace that feels like home.

He’s silent for a moment, cradling my head in his hand, and then he speaks again.

“This is the first time I’ve been able to feel what you feel…” His voice sounds breathy, dazed, and I try to open my eyes, without success.

As much as I want to stay here with him, to be cognizant of his touch, his voice, the pain is too strong, and I sink into its clutches once more.

{***}

When the pain finally recedes from my body, I open new eyes.

The world around me has changed too, it seems. Everything is sharper, clearer, louder, more intense.

And when I look down and see Jasper holding my hand, I realize that my feelings for him have intensified, too. Somehow, I love him even more than I previously thought possible.

He nods, gripping my hand tighter. “I feel it too.”

“Y/n.” A soft voice to my right requests my attention, and I reluctantly turn my gaze from my beloved’s topaz eyes to greet those of Dr. Carlisle Cullen. He offers me a hesitant smile, clearly trying to make himself seem non-threatening. “I’m glad to see you awake and out of pain. How are you feeling?”

I shrug, at a loss for how to describe it all. I still feel like me, yes, but I feel….more. I feel the input of heightened senses and the resilient nature of my new body. “Different,” I decide, knowing that word will have to do it for now. “Where am I?”

“At our home,” a voice answers from behind me, and I jump off the bed, having previously been unaware of this third guest.

Edward Cullen stands there, hands raised in the universal show of surrender. “I’m sorry, I should’ve made my presence known. You can relax now, no harm will come to you here.”

It’s then that I notice that, in the mere span of half a second, I have thrown myself from the bed and into a defensive position, baring my teeth.

It’s Edward, I remind myself. You know him, he’s nice. Calm down.

I force myself to relax.

An intrigued look crosses his face. “I’d never been able to read your mind before today. I guess that’s an effect of the transformation.”

Transformation…meaning…

“I’m a vampire,” I realize, hands flying to my too-smooth skin.

“Yes,” Jasper breathes, placing a light hand on my arm. “I found you in the woods a few days ago, I’m sorry…I couldn’t stop it.”

He turns to face me then, regret plain in his features. I shake my head, wanting badly to stop his sadness. “No, it’s okay, I…well the pain wasn’t ideal, but that’s done now. I do wonder how this will fit with my other abilities, though…”

Carlisle furrows a curious eyebrow. “Your other abilities?”

“You’re a siren,” Edward gasps, pulling the thought from my head. “Or at least, you were…we’ll have to get Alice, see if she can see anything of your future. That might help us figure some things out.”

Alice. I glance to Jasper at my side, then quickly look away. I shouldn’t be this close to him. “Where is Alice?” Surely she would want to be here, as my best friend?

Edward shakes his head slowly, looking conflicted. “She wanted to be here, but she needed some time to herself. She—” he clears his throat, looking to Jasper for help.

Jasper squeezes my hand in his, prompting me to look at him. “When you changed, so did my future. It shifted and, well, didn’t include her in the way it might’ve before.”

Oh.

Oh!

Oh wow, I feel awful.

“Don’t,” Edward and Jasper protest at the same time.

“She’ll be alright,” Carlisle confirms, offering me an encouraging smile. “She has a world of other possibilities open to her, and she knows it. She’ll be back in a few weeks at most. And until then, we need to teach you how to be a vampire.”

I smile weakly, a twinge of discomfort in my stomach making itself known. “Can it wait until after dinner? I feel like I haven’t eaten in days.”

“Of course,” Carlisle nods, indicating to the nearby window. “If you follow us to the forest, we will teach you how to hunt.”

“Um—” I hesitate. “Won’t that take a while? I can smell the meat in the fridge now, could we just make that and go hunting tomorrow?”

I’m met with three sets of hopelessly confused eyes.

“You…want human food?” Jasper tilts his head, uncomprehending.

I stare at him, equally questioning. “Yes? Oh—” Realization hits me. “I should want blood, shouldn’t I?”

“Yes,” Carlisle nods, studying me closely. “You say you are a siren? Perhaps that stopped the full transformation from taking effect somehow.”

Worry pools within me. Am I not a proper vampire?

Edward shakes his head, knowing my thoughts. “No, you seem to be like us on the surface — you just don’t have the desire for blood. We should explore more in-depth though. For example, what of your lifespan? Will it be indefinite, or limited to the constraints of a human or a siren? Are you as strong as us, or are you holding on to human traits that make you weaker?”

Jasper senses my rising anxiety and places a hand on my shoulder. “There is certainly a lot to discuss, but we should do it after you eat.”

We go downstairs and Esme, one of the kindest people I’ve ever met, welcomes me with open arms and does her best to prepare the food she has on hand. I help a little, having been mortal the most recently.

After dinner, I meet the rest of the family, and they all join us outside for tests of my new abilities.

{***}

Nearly two days later, we’ve determined that I am a vampire.

Just not all the way.

It seems the siren in me stopped the full transformation from taking place, and I occupy a sort of half-state.

I am fast and strong, though not as much as my full-vampire counterparts. My senses are better than a human’s and almost as good as a vampire’s. My skin is just as hard and cold as a vampire’s. My eyes are currently red, though Carlisle thinks they will turn back to my usual color once my human blood fades from my system, providing I abstain from blood of any sort.

Perhaps the most interesting, is that my voice, already strong before my transformation, has only grown in power. I can bring Emmett—one of the strongest vampires we know of—to the ground with just a few words. It’s all very interesting.

The only matter we have yet to resolve is my life-span.

None of us know how long I will live.

My emotions tell Jasper where my thoughts lie. “We’ll figure it out,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

I sigh, leaning back against his chest and enjoying his embrace. Because whatever time I have with him, I intend to soak it up for all it’s worth.

A/n Thanks for reading! If you have a moment, check out my masterlist :)

#jasper x reader #jasper hale #jasper cullen #jasper whitlock hale #jasper x siren!#jasper x siren! reader #jasper x yn #jasper x y/n #twilight #twilight renaissance #twilight fic #twilight au

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bluebellhairpin · 4 years ago

Text

Favours

Mafia AU!Levi Ackerman X Fem!Reader

Part Two

A/N: I had a vision today while watching ‘Oceans 8′, and Suz wasn’t helping so I’ve written this out. Enjoy. - Nemo

Summary: Some traditions need to be broken, and with your almost all-female mob, you intend to break them all. Your rising activity and status catches the eye of many - good and bad.

Listening to: ‘7 rings’ by Ariana Grande - ‘Bought matching diamonds for six of my bitches, I’d rather spoil all my friends with my riches.’

Masterlist

Work hard and stay out of trouble. That’s what your parents always told you. What you didn’t know was what that really meant. But you soon learnt.

Work hard at working others hard, and never get caught making trouble.

Of course, as you grew up you became more observant, and what exactly brought the money in so that your family could keep living their fancy, first-class lifestyle became more and more known to you. Your parents had blood on their hands, and you inherited that lifestyle like a diamond necklace that was passed through the generations.

It sounds cruel, sociopathic, and sadistic - but you didn’t mind the dirty work that came with running the family business. Beats having to sit behind a corporate desk all day for the rest of your life. Indeed, this was much more fun.

When you reached the crowning age of twenty-one, your father stepped aside and gave the reins to you. Immediately as family head you made changes. You loved your father - more than anything - but the people he left you to work with had too much testosterone. So you replaced them with women you hand-picked yourself.

To date you had yet to regret it.

Everyone you had around you were women you trusted. Strong, independent, stubborn. When you pieced them together, when you brought them in and made them a team, they became unstoppable. And so did you.

Your decision made your family name stand out among all the others. You rose in the ranks and became a force to be reckoned with. No one thought that a group of women would be so successful in this line of ‘work’, and ironically that was a main reason why you became successful. No one thought that they’d get into so much trouble with you and your women that they’d need to beg for mercy - to beg for favors.

And in your world, favors were more valuable than gold, and more unbreakable than an atom.

With the mini empire your father left you, your years of observation, and your select team of women, you figured out exactly how to pull the strings of everyone around you.

One of the many things you implemented was a monthly movie night. Team bonding is what you told them it was, even if you all just liked spending time together without an excuse.

Sasha was in charge of the snacks, because she’d kick a fuss if she wasn’t.

Yimr and Historia always snatched up that one couch in the corner, and you let them because you knew they were a little more than friends.

Mikasa and Annie both looked like they’d rather be somewhere else, but whenever you put on a classic Disney movie like ‘Cinderella’ they wouldn’t keep their eyes off the screen.

Which left you, Hange and Nanaba draped across the biggest couch in the room, legs everywhere and popcorn lost between the blanket folds.

It was wonderful. You’d only gotten this a couple times a year back when you were a kid, and now getting it every month was like a refreshing blast of relaxation. Less so when Hange fell asleep and started snoring on your shoulder.

You were halfway through the second ‘Lady and the Tramp’ movie when Petra poked her head into the room, her eyes wide as saucers, and motioned for you to come out.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” You said, stepping outside as you looked over at the redhead. She shook her head.

“N-no. But there’s a call for you.” She said. “A man. He says Levi Ackerman wants to meet you.”

“Finally.”

───────✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰✧.｡:✱───────

In the entire time you’d known the family business, you knew that the Ackerman’s were on top of the pile. The Royals in a world of royalty. Even when you were a child you knew their name held importance.

Their people - even those that worked for them - wouldn’t even spare you a second glance unless you were important to the Ackermans, or a rival. The fact that one wanted to meet with you, that meant you’d gotten on their radar long enough for them to figure out if you were with or against them.

You knew the power they - He - held as head of their family, and you knew everyone on both sides would benefit if you worked with them and struck a deal. You were becoming rather powerful too.

From the ancient foundations of your family your father worked on maintaining, you stepped it up and built a stronger fortress. Thicker walls, higher towers. You took the stonework and oak beams of your family's heritage and rebuilt it with glass and steel.

You painted your future with gold, linen, and platinum diamonds.

As you stepped out of your convoy of glossy black cars, you took a moment to adjust your pantsuit while your entourage of women flowed out of the cars and followed.

The building was big, pristine, and - in every sense of the word - overwhelming. If you didn’t have Hange and Nanaba standing at your flanks when you stepped in you would’ve felt a lot worse than just the settling butterflies in your stomach. The place spoke power and you hadn’t even seen anyone except the underlings yet.

“You’re from the Shiv family, right? Which one of you is the boss?” a man said, turning into the room from the doorway underneath the double staircase. He had a smile painted on his face, and his greyish hair was tostled. You noted how his eyes lingered behind you, right where you knew Mikasa was standing. Despite the two smaller men at his sides, he was not the man you were here for.

He was too unkept, and his eyes wandered too far.

You stepped forward.

“I’m ‘the boss’.” you said, air quoting his words, “And I’m here to meet your ‘boss’, so your co-operation in pointing me in his direction would be greatly appreciated.” You finished with a smile, picking some lint off his shoulder.

“O-oh, yes.” He said, flushing and casting a look back at the two others, “This way, ma’am.” He said.

He led you further into the building, his two friends stepping aside to follow those with you who didn’t wait at the cars.

“I’m Jean. Jean Kirstein, by the way.” He stuttered, looking over at you as he filed you all into an elevator.

“Duly noted, Jean.” you said. You lulled your head to look back at the three you brought with you, then looked over at the other two with Jean. “So who are you both?”

“Connie Springer Ma’am.” the one with the buzzcut straightened up, seemingly now feeling like he needed to impress. The other had been acting stiffly since you all first walked in.

“I-I’m Flegel Reeves, ma’a-am.” he said.

“Reeves?” you asked, and he nodded. “My, my, you and Hange here know each other then, right? Hange, you never mentioned you worked with one of the Ackermans.” You said, turning to face her. She shrugged as the doors opened.

“You never asked.” Letting out a him at their answer, you turned on your heel and followed Jean out towards a set of dark wooden doors. He stopped just short, hand hovering over the door handle.

“Um, before you go in, you should know -”

“- I’ll be fine. Thank you Jean.” You smiled at him, this time less condescendingly. He nodded at you, a glint in his eye, and opened the door.

Behind the doors was something you’d hoped to never see again - a room chocked full of men.

“(y/n) Shiv.” The man at the end of the glass table stood, gesturing to the only empty seat right in front of you. “Sit, please.”

One look across the room into his narrow, cold eyes and you knew.

This might not be as easy of a meeting as you thought.

#ew men right?#all but one lolololol #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman imagine #levi ackerman one shot #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan one shot #attack on titan imagine #mafia au

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jamestrmtx · 4 years ago

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Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Four | Nyeh Heh Heh! (Part 2 of 2)

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

There's a time and place for everything, but not now.

You remind yourself of that and quite bluntly suck it up.

All weaknesses are forced back down and corked shut, establishing a path for you to finish what you started. You went all the way out of the city just to meet up with Papyrus, and you were here to bring some sort of closure as to how you could approach him after concluding with your first meeting. Still, that's no excuse for you to be rude or break any of your hospitality rules, so you smile at the skeleton and thank him for the letter, it's contents you assume’s money judging by how thick and heavy the envelope is.

"This means a lot, but… Are you sure it's okay for me to accept this?"

"Of course it is! Alphys would be glad to fix your phone and even upgrade it for you!"

Now that makes more sense.

But that still doesn't explain why it's that thick and heavy. Whatever contents there are inside it remain a mystery as you wonder how that's possible and why it's even necessary to carry in an envelope what you assume is simply Alphys's contact information. Nonetheless, you store it away with the rest of your belongings and continue on walking until you make it out of the mall.

"I apologize for not, well… doing what we were meant to do today, but thank you for understanding," you say, keeping up with his pace.

"Of course. Communication is key, (miss/mister)!" He smiles back at you and slows down to a full halt when you both make it to the bus stop. "We can discuss all these matters later on, but wouldn't it be better for you to get a check up with your doctor first?" He almost seems to realize something’s off with his question and adds, "Not that your appearance is unpleasant, but that you simply do not look as healthy as the pictures Frisk showed me of you! You look... rather fatigued, if I’m to be honest."

"I'll…" You trail off when you notice you're beginning to compare both Papyrus and his brother's actions with Jerry's.

Jerry didn't notice how different you looked back at your meeting with Sans; rather, he only noticed you were with someone new, and nothing else.

He didn't demonstrate the same level of insight as Sans did.

And he didn't show as much concern as Papyrus did, either.

Jerry didn't-

"I'll keep that in mind." You shove all that aside and step inside the bus, Papyrus following after you. It's jam packed, so you're led to hold onto the nearest hand railing before it takes off.

While you wait for an opening to continue talking with him, more thoughts return to your mind, these about last week and how Jerry wouldn’t stop texting you information about the monsters no matter how much you ignored it all. The only messages you’d opened were the ones about who Sans was, and -- considering in what state that left both you and your phone screen in -- you’ve now established it upon yourself to not look at any other message Jerry's sent. If he wanted to warn you and Frisk about anything else, then he had to gather the wits to apologize for ditching his child for so long and actually reveal some sort of positive change in him.

Hell. When was the last time you saw him -- last December, maybe?

You let all those frustrations out through a huff and loosen your grip on the railing when you notice you've become too carried away with your thoughts. There's no reason for you to be thinking about him anymore. You were over Jerry’s bull crap a long, long time ago, and having him text you again after almost a whole year of complete and utter silence from his part couldn't possibly be enough for you to begin thinking about him again.

"I forgot to mention there's another thing from Sans inside that envelope," Papyrus says, serving as a necessary distraction from your overthinking mind. "He thinks it's useful for what you will be dealing with soon, now that you've made it your goal to learn more about Frisk's monster friends." The doors hiss as the first stop arrives. People begin to stand up and exit, leaving a few seats empty for both you and your companion, as well as those who were also left to stand and hold on. “How was your meeting with him, by the way?”

“It was fine,” you reply, assessing his question and the change of tone that goes along with it. His once amiable tone changes for curiosity, almost as if he’d no prior knowledge of how your meeting with his brother went despite having proven the contrary back at the food court. It's sudden but subtle, though as much as you try to understand what it's caused by, you come out short of possibilities. “And he was nice. I wanted to pay for at least my part of the lunch we had, but he covered for it… And now you did the same today, too.” You chuckle at that thought and look up at the monster with a smile. “You’re both just as hospitable, I’d say.”

He sighs, a sound marked by relief. His face shows that same emotion based on how his gaze loosens up and how contentment returns to his expression, once clouded by that earlier one caught with his change in tone, still unknown to you. “It is not my intent to persuade you into anything, but… I was hoping you would both get along better. At first, it was for how worried I was that he would not adjust well to the Surface, but it looks like you could both benefit off getting along with each other!”

It becomes clearer now as to what his intentions are.

He was worried as any caring sibling would be for the other sibling’s well-being. It made sense despite how outgoing both skeletons appeared to be. The elder one looked to be the type to keep to himself more based on the sole, first impression you had of him. He knew when and where to joke around, he knew how to strike up a conversation, and he was thoughtful to a noticeable extent, but all that still didn’t cover up how he approached certain topics with you, even if he was still barely acquainted to you. Even if he was honest and even if he’d been earnest enough to confess his faults to you right on your first meeting, there remained something about him that told he was still keeping certain feelings to himself, such as that of a different weakness found beyond his mistakes. Papyrus showed that quality plenty both in subtle and blatant ways, such as when he admitted when he felt that he’d failed his friendship with Frisk and how he cried when talking with you earlier ago. Sans, on the other hand, didn’t quite reveal having any emotional bond in him when talking about how he’d failed his promise and Frisk in the process. Not that it meant that he didn’t feel any repentance over his actions, but that he simply seemed to take his job as a judge for the Underground into his real-life relationships -- using that mindset even outside the Judgment Hall.

But, of course, you hardly knew him, so that could just be you overthinking the weight and significance of the situation and misinterpreting what could be a hint of introversion in the monster when compared with his younger brother.

Over-analysis aside, you consider yet another perspective regarding what Papyrus meant when he said he hoped for you and Sans to get along.

Was it really possible he meant that as simply friendship?

Or was he throwing subtle remarks about a possible set up?

“Do you…” A mild sense of guilt overcomes you at the mere consideration of that possibility, though it doesn’t stop your stressed mind from doing what it wants. “As friends, you mean?”

Notwithstanding his seemingly innocent character, Papyrus’s gaze widens and he looks away for a split second, cheekbones burning red. “Yes,” he replies, followed by, “I apologize if that made you think a different way. I just want him to have new friends and open up some more! Though now that you mention it, he..." He trails off and frowns. "He is a bit different from most of our friends. He is almost the same age as Undyne and Alphys, and yet he still hasn’t dated anyone to this day! That, and he always rejects the advances he gets from a few people he knows from Grillby’s bar.”

“Maybe he’s aromantic or something similar?” you suggest, quirking a brow and smiling at the sight of Papyrus's flustered state. “That’s normal, if so. It could just mean he’s not interested in a romantic relationship and stuff like that.”

“But I’m still worried about him -- He’s just like this for making new friends, too! And he’s been acting strange since the Barrier broke.”

Your smile grows the further Papyrus talks, and it’s almost a challenge for you not to burst out a laugh; not in a mocking sort of sense, but for the sheer worry he expresses both through his words and body language. It’s almost as if your personalities have switched, making it now his turn to show his own set of stresses, but in a far more composed way compared to your previously anxious state. He sighs and places a hand over his forehead, expressing his troubled thoughts yet again through the rub of his temples. “If anything, I hope it’s that… And that he’s not keeping stuff to himself!” He looks at you with a small smile and adds, “Could you…” He hesitates, though he recovers with a breath in and a harrumph. “Could you ask him about that one day? I do not know much about these topics myself, but… In the meantime, I was hoping if…”

He trails off for a second time.

At that chance, you intervene, saying, “Sure.” You let out a laugh, a simple sound that seems to be sufficient for the skeleton to relax again. “You both paid for lunch, and you’re here with me after I said I needed to talk with you about the whole situation at the Underground, so…” You take a pause as your smile grows. “It’s only fair I try to pay some of that forward, don’t you think? I’m sure I can find a way to ask him without being blunt about it.”

Tears return to Papyrus’s eye sockets as sudden as thunder on a clear, sunny day. At that sight, you offer him a hug, one he accepts just as quickly. His arms squeeze you tight, similar to that of a child hugging their favourite stuffed animal after a fright, and he nearly sobs into your shoulder afterwards, the emergence of that action incrementing his grip on you. “You are too kind, (miss/mister)!” he exclaims, capturing the attention of the few passengers still remaining in the train. “I will make sure the rest of us you have left to meet are just as cooperative with you!”

You release a quiet gasp, in needful search for air when he lets you go, and chuckle when you see his gaze is as hopeful as someone with a lottery ticket. Were you both not sitting and still waiting for your stop, you would imagine he would’ve hugged you for longer or further showed his gratitude through a bow. “It’s alright,” you say, shaking your head. “Maybe I’m a little weak right now, but as soon as I go visit the doctor and get things cleared out, just say the word and I’ll do what I can to help you guys get settled up here.”

Papyrus sniffles into the third tissue you’ve offered him today and trembles after recovering. He then looks at you with a clearer gaze and a fonder smile, both of these enhanced by the late afternoon sunlight beginning to shine through the train’s large windows. “E- Even if you… consider some of us as enemies by the end of it?”

“It would all depend on how it goes, but…” You rub the back of your neck and allow a pensive frown to take over for a moment. “Based on what I know so far, I doubt I won’t be able to help out. Even if some of you hurt Frisk, I... I still have to acknowledge how much you offered and did for them after you learned they weren’t an enemy.”

His hopeful gaze almost drives into a pitfall and a trace of guilt flickers on his visage.

All other surroundings and people present besides the chair you sit on, his presence, and yourself shift to a sudden blur as you can only concentrate on that change, too abrupt for your liking.

“About that…” he speaks up, hesitating. “There’s something I believe neither Frisk nor any of us have told you about, and that is-”a

Your destined stop finally arrives, interrupting whatever closely-hidden confession the skeleton was about to direct at you.

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#sans x reader #undertale x reader #lgbt #lgbt themes #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #mother reader #father reader #parent reader #chubby reader #long fic #romcom #adventure #mystery #platonic relationships #slow burn

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myhockeyworld87 · 4 years ago

Text

Bubble Wrapped - Part 6

Word Count: 3,708

POV: Reader

Warnings: Same as always, Language, Smut, NSFW, Please see the note in the Masterlist

Teams: Bruins, Caps, Flyers, Lightning and Pens

Notes: So I decided to concentrate on this story a little more than my other ones, since we are now in the conference finals. So my two other stories will sit on the backburner for a bit. Don’t worry they will be back and I still work on them from time to time. But for now please enoy this one...haha As always feedback is welcome! Happy Reading!

It seemed like every time you saw one of the players in the lobby, you were trying to determine if they were the one that sent you the cryptic text message. Cross-referencing the information that you had on the players didn't help as you didn't have most of their phone numbers in the hotel computer system. Two days later and you were no closer to finding out who sent it then you were the day you got it. "I don't know Car, it's putting me on edge," you told your best friend over coffee out in the courtyard.

"Does it matter? It's not like you've had a horrible time with any of them. Or have you?" Carly's eyes got wide at just the thought.

"Of course, not."

"Well then no harm, no foul right?" She shrugged and took a sip of her drink. "You need to have some fun. You've been so wound tight over this, I doubt you've gotten off in the last forty-eight hours." You literally almost spit your iced coffee out of your mouth. "What? Have you? You haven't told me about anything since the Sid thing, and that was almost three days ago if you consider that was the night before."

"I don't tell you everything you know." You countered once you'd regained your composure.

"Look getting off by your own hand over the phone with Tyler, does not count. And don't try to tell me that didn't happen." Carly tapped the side of her cup waiting for you to answer but then decided to keep going. "I mean he did buy you those shoes, the man had to get something in return. Not to mention, you were flushed when you came back down to the lobby."

"Oh my god, shut up!" Well if she had just experienced what you did, she would've been hot and bothered as well. "And it wasn't my own hand," you hissed back.

"OH! Do tell?"

"What are we telling?" Brayden Point asked as he sat down beside Carly and now it was she who was blushing and not you.

"Just talking about the schedule," you said in hopes to cover.

"Please (Y/N), it's not like Brayden doesn't know about your little sexcapades." The fact that you were trying to think of several ways to murder your best friend with a cup of coffee, should've been evident with the look you gave her. "He was playing strip poker with us," Carly added by way of excuse. "I was just saying she's tense and that she needs to get some."

"Oh if that's all, there are about a dozen guys within earshot willing to help you out with that you know." He said looking around the courtyard to see who was there. "In fact…"

"Don't you dare." Your teeth were clenched as you sternly chided Point. "Just because you two are fucking like rabbits every spare moment doesn't mean that I need to."

"I'm just saying, pick one of these guys and they'll literally be putty in your hands. You don't know how many of them are sexually frustrated." This wasn't a revelation by any means out of Brayden's mouth. You'd seen the looks even from guys that shouldn't be giving them. Why you'd let the text message bother you so much you didn't know, but you needed to get out of this conversation that was for sure.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." You told them both. "You two enjoy your….break. I expect you'll be back working in say…an hour Car?"

Brayden checked his watch then quickly got up, grabbing Carly by the hand. "An hour…yep, I'll have her back by then." The two left and you just sat there chuckling to yourself as you sipped on your iced latte macchiato. Scrolling through your phone, you weren't surprised to get a text message from Tyler. He'd pretty much messaged you all the time and of course, you'd enjoyed another night of fun over FaceTime as well. Which Carly knew nothing about thankfully. You flicked over to messages to see what Tyler had to say today.

Tyler: Hey Babygirl! How's bubble life today?

(Y/N): Just enjoying some sunshine at the moment. How about you?

Tyler: Just missing you. When can we FaceTime again?

(Y/N): Are you missing me or just horny?

Tyler: Can't I just want to talk to you? I miss you.

Why did Tyler have to say things like that? He was a natural flirt but lately, he'd been taking your whole friends with benefits things and pushing it to the border. The only thing you could do is try and guard your heart for he wasn't the relationship type of guy.

(Y/N): You can, I just know you 😉

Tyler: Sometimes I wonder if you do…

(Y/N): What does that mean?

Tyler: ….

Tyler: Nothing…

Tyler: Can we talk soon though?

(Y/N): Yes, you have a game tonight, right?

Tyler: Yes

(Y/N): Well I'll be watching and cheering for you.

Tyler: ❤

(Y/N): I'll call you tomorrow

Tyler: Promise?

(Y/N): Yes ❤

Tyler: Good, miss you 😘

"Boo," you heard from behind you as someone jabbed your ribs. Quickly you closed your phone not knowing who just made you jump out of your seat.

"Tom, you scared the shit out me." Tom Wilson scooted in the seat beside you, even though there were empty ones where you wouldn't be on top of one another.

"I'd say I'm sorry, but um not. You're cute when you're flustered like this."

"I'm not flustered," you insisted even as your heart still wasn't beating properly.

"Mmmhmm, well you were certainly lost in thought. What's so interesting on that phone?" He tried to grab it away from you, but you were faster.

"Business, which you don't need to see."

"Oh, thought you might be reading over a certain text." He had a wicked gleam in his eye and suddenly you knew that he was the one who you'd been wondering about for the last two days.

"And what text would that be? I don't think I've gotten anything in important."

"Aww, come on (Y/N), don't play hard to get. You know I haven't forgotten that you still owe me that kiss?" Wilson nudged you and gave you a little wink.

"And what have you come to collect it now? Out here where everyone can see us? Because I clearly remember you saying something about not wanting to do it with a pair of eyes watching?" You weren't opposed to kissing Tom, in fact, quite the opposite. He was handsome and perfectly chiseled in all the right places. Though you wouldn't mind getting his shirt off of him and checking out his abs. Tyler had the perfect six-pack abs, but you had a feeling Wilson could give him a run for his money.

"I'm not collecting it now, just thought maybe I could set up a little date to collect later tonight?"

"You don't have a game or anything?" You knew he didn't, but you also didn't want to seem overly eager at him coming to your suite.

"Not until Monday, so my night is pretty free."

"I suppose we could work something out." You glanced down at the calendar on your phone, already knowing that you were free. "Anytime after eight should be good." You were actually free before that, but he didn't need to know that.

"Fine, then I'll see you at eight and be prepared for the night of your life."

"Someone's awful confident." You told him as he strolled away.

"With good reason," he mouthed back before heading back inside. God, he could be so cocky at times. You really needed to get back inside and make sure things were running smoothly, now that the bubble had been more open you had not only your teams there but the others as well, as they were allowed to use all the amenities the hotel had to offer which were quite a lot. Walking back inside the hotel, it was hard not to notice there were players everywhere. It occurred to you then, that you had a type, and that type just happened to be every man walking around in your building. Each day it got harder and harder to concentrate on actually working, but that's what you did the rest of the day, finally calling it a night around seven.

You headed up to your suite, grabbed something quick to eat, then waited for Tom to show up. Eight o'clock came and went and still the handsome winger didn't show up. You were beginning to think that Tom just liked to play games and you weren't in the mood for them tonight for, despite your protests, Carly was right; you were in the mood for a little fun. When ten o'clock rolled around you completely gave up on him coming and headed upstairs to get ready for bed. At least Tom's absence let you keep your word to Tyler as you were able to catch his game. Unfortunately, he didn't quite play as well as you knew that he wanted too.

You were just about asleep when you heard a loud knock at the door, so throwing on your robe, you padded down the stairs to answer it. The clock on your phone told you it was just past eleven. When you opened the door and Tom was standing there you weren't really surprised. "I'm sorry but the offer expired about three hours ago." You told him before going to shut the door.

"Babe, don't be like that," he said jamming his foot in the door so that you couldn't close it. "Sorry I'm late but it couldn't be helped."

With a roll of your eyes, you stepped aside to let him in, though you weren't entirely sure if you were letting him stay or not. "You have two minutes before I throw you out of my room."

"Don't be like that. I had to watch film and then the guys got to talking. I couldn't just get up and tell them I was coming up here." He made a move to run his hand down your silk-clad shoulder but you brushed him off. "If I would've done that, you'd have bigger problems then me being late as every freaking player would be at your door."

He had a point, as so far none of your escapades had gotten out, at least to your knowledge. "Do you want a drink?"

"Would love one." He followed you over to the fully stocked bar. Grabbing the bourbon off the shelf, you poured yourself a dram on the rocks, while cocking an eye at him for his choice. "Make it two, though I'd prefer it neat." Sliding the glass over to him, you took a small sip, letting the liquor warm you up, not only to the night air but also to the man in your room. "So, does this mean you aren't mad anymore?"

"I was never mad, Tom. I'm just not a person to be kept waiting. There are plenty of men in this hotel in case you haven't noticed."

"Look I get it, you didn't have to wait for me, but I'm glad you did." You let his hand grab your waist and pull you toward him. It drifted lower to the swell of your ass and suddenly the liquor wasn't the only thing making the room hot. "Do I still get that kissed I'm owed, or are you saving it for someone else?"

You pretended to mull it over in your mind. To say that you hadn't thought about it, since that first night would've been a complete lie. "What do you say we play for it?" This all started with a game of pool; it might as well end there.

"Ok so I win and I still get the kiss." He stated and you nodded your agreement.

"And if I win, I get to choose if you do or don't." If he could play nice then maybe you'd let him have a prize at the end, but if not, you could send him on his way.

The confidence in his gaze wasn't lost on you as he agreed to the terms. You racked up the balls then let him break. As a striped ball went in, he claimed those, leaving you with the solids to clear off the table. When it came time for your first shot, you took the opportunity to stick your ass out just a little more tempting him for making you wait for him. His hand went to caress the silk, yet you straightened. "Tsk, tsk, you haven't won yet," you chided him then bent back down to take your shot, which went in. You sunk the next two as well and you could see that he'd underestimated you.

"I see how it is," he remarked lining up for his next attempt. "You try to act all cute and innocent when this is really your game and you're making me pay." His ball traveled across the table, going down in the corner pocket. The two of you were pretty evenly matched in this game it would come down to the end to see who would be crowned the victor. Though until that time, you took a minute to appreciate his fine form. Long lean muscles that stretched across the fabric of his shirt made your mouth water. He bent over the table, just as you did, giving you a nice view of his firm bottom. All in all, Tom Wilson was a perfect specimen of the male form, that was for sure, and as the game went on you wondered if what was underneath his clothing was just as flawless.

When it was finally your turn, you didn't miss the opportunity to turn him on as much as he did you. Your robe, now draped seductively off your shoulder, giving him a chance to ogle over your breasts. As you looked across the table you couldn't help but notice the distinct bulge in his pants and you bit down on your lip as you took the shot. There were a few shots left on the table, as you made your way over to take a sip of your drink, letting your hand ghost along his thigh as you reached over for it. You heard his sharp intake of breath, then felt his hand skim over your hip. "What if I declared you the winner right now?" He asked, his hand now rubbing circles on your skin and you could feel yourself getting damp.

"Hmm," you hummed your response, your body already deciding to give in to him. His hand moved the tie of your belt where you felt him fiddling with the fabric there before he undid the knot. "How about we call it a tie?"

His eyebrows raised at your words and you could tell he was intrigued, but he didn't know if he should proceed or not. "If that means we both win, I'm all for that." You took that last step, so that you were fully between his spread legs on the barstool that he occupied, before leaning down and covering your mouth with his. He abandoned his drink so that his hand could sneak inside your robe and caress the silk chemise you wore. Your tongues tangled with each other as the kiss grew hot and heavy. Tom clearly knew how to kiss, as your brain started to get fuzzy and lose all train of thought. The cue stick landed on the marble floor with a thud and then you heard it roll away as it dropped out of your hands so that you could thread your hands threw his hair. Tom stood then, walking you both backward until you bumped against the pool table. His hands that had been on your hips moments ago, now trailed up your sides to your shoulders where he pushed the sleeves of the robe off and it fell to the ground. Breaking the kiss, his mouth traveled southward, down your neck to your collarbone, where he sucked tenderly at the skin there. Your head fell back giving him great access, as you moaned out in pleasure. This is exactly what you wanted and needed, to feel someone's lips against your skin. Why you'd denied yourself this pleasure over the last couple days you didn't know.

The strap of your left chemise fell off, exposing your breast yet still covering the nipple. Tom's hand came up to cup it then, his lips ghosting ever so softly, till he revealed the peak and then took it inside his mouth. He tweaked and nibbled there, then lifted you up on the table, scrunching your chemise up at the same time. He tugged you close to the edge, spreading your legs before dropping down to his knees. "No panties?" He questioned and you simply shrugged. It wasn't like you expected him to come knocking at your door or anyone for that matter. It was just a preference you had when you slept. He licked between your folds then, tasting your essence before slipping a finger inside you. You wanted more of his tongue for that one little lick just wasn't enough but he didn't give it to you. Instead, his finger worked in and out of you. It was nice but it would never be enough to get you off.

When he added a second you moaned your approval hoping for more, but still, it was lackluster. He kissed your inner thigh, your stomach, everywhere but your clit, which was seeking attention. "More," you urged and he took that as a cue to thrust his fingers in and out of you faster. It wasn't enough yet you could see the eagerness in his eyes. How could someone so skilled with kissing not use those lips to pleasure your pussy. Skating your hand down your body, you found your clit and started to rub, but he nudged your fingers aside. You whimpered and he took that as a good sign as his fingers started to slow. The man obviously wasn't used to taking cues from women for you felt his fingers slide out of you thinking you'd cum. Short of coming out and telling him to suck on your clit, which you were pretty close to doing, you were sure you weren't going to get off. You pushed yourself up to a sitting position, backing him off at the same time. Maybe he was better with his dick then he was his mouth.

You switched positions, him now leaning against the pool table and you kneeling in front of him. You reached up and yanked his bottoms down, setting his cock free. It was average in size and you brought it to your lips, where you dropped little kisses all around the head and shaft, before opening your mouth and sucking it inside. Tom's hands pulled your hair back so he could see you sucking on his cock. "So pretty," he murmured as you swallowed most of him in your mouth. As you took him out, you pressed your tongue along the underside of his dick. It was a move that drove him wild as the hand that was in your hair now urged you back onto his member. You hollowed out your cheeks sucking more and more of him inside, as his hips started to flex into you. He held your head still as he fucked your face. When he hit the back of your throat you gagged and coughed. This only spurred him on more as once again he was thrusting into your mouth. Your hands snuck down to squeeze his balls. It sent Tom over the edge, and you felt his hot cum hit the back of your throat. You swallowed the sticky substance down, though if given a choice you would've rather not. "That was so fuck hot," Tom said as he helped you to your feet. "Your mouth is amazing." You would've like to return the compliment but it wasn't possible. There was always hope that the sex would be better, well that was until, he said, "You wore me out, woman. I'm exhausted." Really? So, he gets to cum and you don't. Where was the fairness in that? He reached for his shorts and pulled them back on. So that was that then.

You grabbed your robe off the floor and put it on, then walked him to the door. No reason for him to stick around when you needed to head back upstairs and get yourself off. "Well…" you started and weren't really sure what else to say. "It's been…interesting." That was at least one way to put your evening with Tom.

"Yeah, we'll have to do it again sometime." He said then kissed you. All you could think of was, why couldn't he have used those techniques on your pussy.

Once the two of you broke apart, you bid him goodnight shutting the door behind. Was it bad to hope that the Capitals got knocked out in the first round? You supposed as long as you kept that thought to yourself it wasn't. By the time you dragged yourself upstairs you ended up just falling asleep, you already knew that tomorrow you were going to be having more fun with Tyler on the phone and well even though it was a vibrator, it was a lot more fun than anything you'd experienced with Tom that night.

Morning came and you went about your normal routine. Again, the hotel was crowded as it seemed more players from the other hotel were coming over. There was a ton of interaction between all the guys and for the most part it seemed friendly. You were just about to grab a quick bite for dinner when Logan came up and grabbed you. "There's a fight in the lobby. You've gotta come quick." With all of his false alarms recently, you were reluctant to believe him, but since you were only a room away you hurriedly followed him to the lobby. Unfortunately for you, Logan had been telling the truth as you saw fists start to fly.

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oneyanderegirl · 4 years ago

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My Personal Experience as a Chinese American

I don’t generally make posts like this, but after the Atlanta shooting, where 6 Asian American women were killed, I wanted to write about my own personal experience with racism as a Chinese American. For years, I have had to deal with several instances where I would be put in situations that made me uncomfortable, annoyed, and angry at the people who decided it would be funny or fun to do so. Almost every time these instances happened, I could only suck it up and play it off as a joke, dismissing my own feelings and forcing myself to accept these situations.

Racism doesn’t just come in form of physical violence. In fact, I feel like for Asians especially, most of it comes from the acts of microaggressions, stereotyping, and general dismissiveness when Asians try to speak up about their experiences. This does not mean that physical violence against Asians does not exist. However, from my own personal experience, I have mostly seen it in its more subtle forms, as mentioned above.

Some people may wonder why didn’t I just speak up then? Why didn’t I just tell them to stop or fuck off with their racism?

The most simple answer can come down to two reasons. The first reason, and probably biggest reason in my opinion, is the way the media has gaslighted society to accept casual racist remarks and stereotypes made towards Asians. The second reason is because of the way my parents have taught me to stay quiet in these situations because they are afraid of the consequences that could result in speaking up about these issues.

The media has, for years, stereotyped Asians into being type casted into certain roles; fetishized its women, while mocking its men; and have made the same racist jokes over and over again with no criticism made towards them. Here are some examples:

1. Characters with ascents being made as a punchline of some joke

2. The amount of times Asian actors/actresses that have been type casted as martial artists or only selected to act in martial art themed movies

3. The amount of times Asian actors/actresses that have played the “ lonely, nerdy kid that does nothing but study”

4. The fetishization of Asian women in porn

5. Asian men have “smaller dicks”, are “shorter”, and “less manly” compared to other races.

When you grow up in an environment that constantly portrays Asians as these type of things, it eventually becomes something that you accept, even begrudgingly. To better understand what I mean by this, think about how drug dependence develops. When you constantly use the same drug, for example an opioid, your brain eventually develops a tolerance to it. When this occurs, you require a higher dosage of that same drug in order to feel the same effects that was felt at a lower dosage. Similarly, when the media constantly portrays Asians in this stereotypical manner, you eventually accept it as a part of American culture and require something more drastic to make you feel the same anger, annoyance, and uncomfortableness that caused you to speak up about it in the first place.

The second reason that I wrote about is my parents. Before I elaborate more about this, I just want whoever is reading this to understand that I do not blame my parents in any way for teaching me to stay quiet about these situations. I hope that you do not either. Rather, I hope after reading this, you will better understand why I and so many other Asian Americans have been taught to stay quiet when dealing with microaggressions and other racial remarks and why it is so difficult to stand up against racism aimed towards us.

The American dream is something that used to be, and still is, famously discussed and shown off around the world. It is this American ideology, having been passed along to many cultures, that became the reason why so many Asians have tried to immigrate here over the decades and decades of history. When you live in a country with raging war occurring, high poverty, oppressive government or a mix of all three, the people will always end up suffering. Doesn’t the American dream then, sound like the perfect way to escape such a life?

Escaping such a country isn’t easy. It’s painful because not everyone makes it. Many immigrants end up leaving their entire lives behind. Some have to separate from close friends and family, where they may never see those people again. Others end up leaving their businesses or education behind. It’s not the same as traveling from state to state, they have to travel literally across the ocean, maybe even halfway across the world, to be able to even have a chance to enter this country.

As if that wasn’t difficult enough, the new difficulties that comes with being an immigrant in a new country adds even more stress. The racism coupled with not being able speak English and having no money, property, or power are all things that many Asian immigrants had to face when they first came to the United States. My parents were no exception.

For many years, my parents had to suffer working low paying jobs, deal with microaggressions, and being unable to connect with their friends and families, in order to save enough money to buy a home and build a life that could support me enough to allow me to build a stable life for myself. Even now, they are still working hard to make sure that I don’t suffer.

Why?

Because that is their American dream.

That is all they, and many other Asian parents, have always wanted: to see their children live happy, financially stable lives without the suffrage that they were forced to experience in their country during their own life.

Are they the perfect parents? No. Does this excuse everything? No. However, it does give you insight and understanding as to why they taught us to stay quiet and avoid trouble for all these years. It’s not because they think racism doesn’t exist or that it’s useless to speak up about these issues (though they may say this), it’s because they are afraid. They are afraid for their children. They are afraid of their children getting hurt, being forced under the same circumstances that they had worked so hard to escape from. So for those parents, racial remarks means nothing to them if it means that they are able to survive and stay alive. It doesn’t mean that they like it, but if you had to choose between starving and living under the fear that the government may one day kill you for war or for going against their ideology versus racial remarks made by ignorant people, wouldn’t the answer be obvious?

It is because of this, that is why I was always taught to stay quiet or to avoid trouble. That is why over the years, I have tried to push out my own feelings and forced myself to accept these situations. That is why I have always tried to go along with the racial remarks that people try to play off as a “joke” or dismiss these racial remarks as “ no big deal”. Here are some examples that I have personally experienced over the years:

1. Being called a “Chink”.

2. The “ Guess-what-type-of-Asian-am-I game: “ Are you Vietnamese? Japanese?” or “ Where are you from?” or “ What are you?” in a disrespectful manner of speaking.

3. “ You don’t look Chinese.” followed with “ You’re really dark for a Chinese person.”

4. Slanted eyes made towards me to show that “ Look, I can be Asian too!!”

5. “ I heard you eat babies for breakfast.”

6. “ You’re Asian, you probably just study all day.”

7. “ I can speak Chinese too: ching chong ling long!”

8. “ Your eyes are too big to be Chinese,” or “ Your eyes are too small,”

Nowadays, with the attacks against Asians being higher than ever, when I go out to buy groceries for my family or to go attend my classes, my parents are always afraid. They always tell me to come home as fast as possible. They tell me that they are scared that I am going to get shot by some racist or even worse, murdered.

For years, we have tried to stay as quiet as possible, to make as little trouble as possible, and to tolerate those racial remarks made against us. Yet we are still being killed for trying to live peacefully amongst ourselves. We are being killed for existing. Worst of all, it is mostly our elderly and immigrant parents who are being targeted. Imagine experiencing so much hardship over the years, going across the continent to a completely new country, working your ass off and suffering for years before finally building a somewhat comfortable life for yourself, and then? You just randomly get killed off by some ignorant, racist murderer who decided they “had a bad day” or some other stupid, insignificant reason and chose you as their target. The American dream that they had worked hard and sought for years and years, all gone now, all because of that stupid, insignificant reason. The Asian Americans who have worked hard to build such a life, won’t ever be able to enjoy its benefits ever again because they are now dead.

That is why, I have decided to speak up about it. That is why so many Asian Americans have decided to speak up about it. We are tired of staying silent. We are tired of having to keep our suffering quiet. Racism against Asian Americans have always existed. We have always suffered from racism. The myth that Asian Americans are the “ Model Minority” has always been just a way of dismissing our issues.

So if you are reading this, please listen. Listen to our stories. Learn about our culture.

Listen to us.

#stop asian hate #imporant #personal #AL #vent #rant

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