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cameronspecial · 11 months ago

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Assisting In Deception (Part 5)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Heavy Make Out, Sexual Thoughts, and Swearing.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.6K

Summary: Rafe gets to show Y/N off at a charity event and this leads to a saucy event.

Masterlist

The trio makes their way into the boutique and Y/N pauses at the appearance of it. She’d never be able to afford anything here, which makes her nervous about the fact that Rafe is going to buy her something. The idea of suggesting somewhere cheaper crosses her mind, but it would not fit into the prestige of the event. She hates that he’s had to buy her many things because she doesn’t want him to think she is taking advantage of him, but he is always insisting on paying for everything. He rests his hand on the small of her back and laughs at the excitement on Nancy’s face. She looks around the store, immediately running to one of the racks. Nancy pulls out multiple different dresses in her sister’s size and Y/N wants to stop her, but Rafe’s encouragement clouds her words. His actions mirror the fourteen-year-olds. Eventually, she is shown to a changing room and she has no say in the dresses she tries on.

The first dress she tries on is an a-line ruched chiffon floor-length eucalyptus dress. She walks out and does a little twirl for the awaiting pair. Rafe has a sappy look on his face that she doesn’t notice. “You look amazing,” Nancy praises, taking pictures of the girl in the dress. Y/N gives her a grimace, “I like the colour, but these sleeves are riding up my armpits and I really don’t feel like being photographed touching there.” She gets back into the changing room to change into a blue flutter-away layered skater dress. This dress makes her feel self-conscious. She walks out of the room with her hands smoothing over the back of her skirt to make sure it doesn’t expose her bum. She doesn’t want to leave the room, but her sister would want to see the dress.

Rafe’s eyes almost bulged out of his sockets at the sight of the short dress. He very badly wants a peek at what is underneath but knows it is wrong. He adverts his eyes at the look of discomfort on her face, “I don’t want to police what you wear. But I will make the suggestion that that dress might be a little short for a children's charity event.” She sighs that he agrees with her opinion and quickly goes back into the room. He would buy whatever dress she wants, but she wants him to like the dress at least if he is going to be spending so much money. The next dress is a pink mesh ruffle hem maxi dress. Even though the dress is her size, she struggles with putting on the garment. She practically waddles out of the changing room.

Nancy makes a face that signals to Y/N that this is not the dress and quickly goes back inside. She looks at the dusty blue a-line v-neck floor-length chiffon dress in the mirror and smiles happily at it. The cut of the top compliments her boobs in a tasteful manner. The flow of the dress allows her to move in the dress comfortably. She twirls in the dress with a little giggle and then goes outside to show them the dress. She feels a little nervous about going out because she really wants them to like it.

When she comes out of the dressing room, Rafe is rendered speechless at the beauty before him. The high slit of her dress shows off her legs and he thinks about how it would look wrapped around his waist as he makes sweet love to her. The teasing of her breasts in her top makes him wonder how it would feel to press his lips on them. However, the most exciting thing for him about the dress is how the blue colour flatters his eye colour. In some way, it’s a way for him to tell the world that she is his. He finds a slight bit of disappointment filling him when he realizes that she isn’t really his. He can see the anxious looks on her face and does what he can to ease her feelings. He stands up from his seat and gently wraps his arm around her waist from the front, placing his forehead on hers, “This dress is amazing. I think this is the one.” Her lips turn into a brightening smile that makes him want to melt. “I think so too,” she whispers.

——

The amount of press at the event makes her nervous and Rafe notices this. He gives her hand a squeeze as he helps her out of the car. It doesn’t feel close enough for him as they walk up the steps of the event space, so he basically glues himself to her side with his hand on her lower back for comfort. She looks up at him with a smile. They greet the occasional person before going over to their table. “Later on, I’m going to need your help with picking items to bid on in the silent auction. But first, I want you to meet my dad,” he murmurs against her ear. She nods into his touch. A voice coming from behind causes them to separate, “Well, if it isn’t the woman, who captured my son’s heart.” They both turn to see Ward Cameron.

Y/N immediately stands up and holds her hand out for him to shake. “It is very nice to meet you, Mr. Cameron. I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” she introduces, being brought into a hug by the older man. He lets out a playful chuckle, “Please, call me, Ward. Mr. Cameron is only for when you are at work with my son. And I am fully aware of who you are, Y/N. He never stops talking about you.” “He doesn’t?” She moves a strand of hair behind her ear.

“He sure does. I hear you are a pretty great assistant. Is it what you see yourself doing for the rest of your life? Not judging if it is, I just need to be ready if you are planning on leaving because Rafe would be very upset.”

“I understand, it would be very strange for me too. I don’t plan on being an assistant forever. I’m still trying to figure out what I want to do. I have an accounting degree but I quickly realized after graduating that I did not want that life.”

“Ahh, the age-old question of what to do with your life. That’s completely understandable. Just give me a warning before you leave, please, so I’m prepared to console Rafe.”

“Of course.”

Rafe chooses this time to interrupt the moment between his father and Y/N. “Excuse me, Dad. I need to steal her away to place bids on some items,” he excuses, helping her up from the table and guiding her to the silent auction tables. The first items aren’t of any interest to the couple, but Rafe is stopped in his tracks in front of a couples' spa retreat. “I don’t need your input to know that this is what we should bet on,” he states, leaning down to bid more money than necessary. She places her mouth next to his ear, “Spas are great, but we aren’t exactly a real couple.”

“Doesn’t matter. I think we could use some relaxation. Let me pamper us.”

She doesn’t say anything as they continue down the line and bid on a couple more things, like an accessory set, an art class run by famous artists and a trip to Tuscany, which Rafe would love to show Y/N around. He isn’t sure what has gotten to him, but he has a little more confidence in himself and he wants their relationship to be real. He wants to let himself pretend that she truly has feelings for him. They have a few drinks and are just tipsy enough to cheer out loud every time they win a bid.

While waiting for the big ticket item to be revealed for the live auction, Rafe engages in a conversation with his dad while Y/N talks to Topper, who is sitting beside her. “I see he hasn’t driven you crazy just yet,” he remarks, looking over toward Rafe. She follows his eyesight with a smile, “Nope. He’s actually been really great. The perfect boyfriend.”

“That’s a shame. I was really hoping that I could have my shot with you.”

“Haha, very funny. You know you and I could never work. Plus, I don’t think you could beat Rafe. Sometimes the media can be a little too much, but he is always there to get me through it. I promise.”

“Good because I won’t hesitate to have a talk with him if you want me to. I can’t have Rafe chasing off my favourite assistant.” She can’t get another word into the conversation because the auctioneer comes on stage to finish up the event.

After the auction, Y/N has to go to the bathroom and Rafe’s protective side causes him to go with her. She exits the bathroom in a fit of giggles and he grabs onto her forearm to stablize her. He starts laughing with her as they go down the wrong hallway. This one is much more secluded than the one that leads to the ballroom. She trips on her feet and he catches her. She looks up into his eyes. Something overcomes her and she smashes her lips onto his. He freezes for a second, but quickly regains his composure. He fights for dominance and gains it by slipping his tongue into her mouth. She hikes up the leg with the slit in her dress, so it sits on his hip and he brings one hand to hold it there. It’s like his dream from when they were dressing shopping is coming true and he can’t let it stop now. He gently places her back on the wall to help hold her up.

He breaks the kiss and begins to kiss his way down to her breasts. She lets out a quiet moan as he brings the neckline of her dress down a little to suck on the skin underneath. She lets out another sound of pleasure and he can’t help but grin when her hips buck into his. Once satisfied with the mark that is left on the top of her boobs, he kisses his way back up to swallow the moans she is letting out. Hoping to help her relieve a little pressure from between her legs, he starts thrusting softly into her clothed pussy. Her hands find their way to his hair as she fights to get her tongue into his mouth and she grins at the groan he lets out. They make out for a few minutes but have to break away before someone comes looking for them.

They didn’t know that this would cause a shift in their relationship. This is the first time they touched each other romantically without the excuse of it being for the press. Their relationship has now crossed a line that made them unable to tell what is real or fake anymore.

——

Following their heavy make-out at the charity event, Y/N and Rafe started being much more physical with each other. It always stops prior to having sex, but it doesn’t mean that what they’ve done did not make them feel more intimate with each other. They haven’t talked to each other as to what this means for them and honestly, they are both too scared to do so. Even with this new development in their relationship, Rafe and Y/N both kept their work relationship professional. All their physical contact is done at either his house or hers.

Rafe listens to the excuses that his employees are giving for not having their work done on time with an irritated look on his face. He hadn’t seen her all day and she couldn’t sleep over at his house last night because she had a family event. It is safe to say that he is grumpy about that, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Topper or Kelce. “I don’t care that they need the Rothman contract before they get to work. You guys should’ve gotten it months ago,” he chastises, standing up from his chair in an imposing manner. He is about to continue his rant when a knock on the boardroom door stops him. He invites the person behind the door into the room.

She enters the room and he feels like he can finally relax a little bit. His angry eyebrows relax and his down-turned lips form into a smile that most people in the meeting have never seen. Her shoes hitting the floor is the only sound heard as the others watch the scene. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, Mr. Cameron. Your sister is on the phone and she says it is very important. I know how much you value your family,” she apologizes, handing over his cell phone that she normally keeps while he is in meetings so he is not interrupted. Something comes over him and he brings her to sit on his lap with him. He needs to feel her in his arms. He presses a kiss to her temple and takes the phone out of her hand. The meeting goers observe this new side of him, leaving when he makes a wave of his hand to signal for them to do so. Everyone else leaves without an issue, but Topper stops at the doorway. He turns toward the couple, “If I knew all that you needed to get the stick out of your ass was for you to be dating your assistant, I would’ve set you guys up a long time ago.”

——

Y/N gets home to see Alexander waiting for her on the couch. He probably used his spare key to get in she thinks to herself. “Is everything okay?” she worries, setting her work bag on the stool. He shrugs his shoulders, “I don’t know. I think I’m in love with Juni.” Y/N accidentally lets out a laugh. “Dude, I could’ve told you that four years ago. You are just now realizing that?”

“Yeah, how do you know?”

“You are constantly making googly eyes at her, that’s how. Where is she anyway?”

“She went to the store to get some things for dinner. What should I do about my crush?”

“Ask her out. You are a fine catch Alexander, you will never know if you don’t give it a shot.”

“So easy for you to say, Ms. I’m Having Sex With My Boss.”

“I am not having sex with him!”

The door opens and in walks Juni, “Ooh, are we talking about Big C? You may not be having sex with him but I do know you’ve been having some sexy time fun with him.” Y/N scoffs at her best friend’s words and goes to help her with the bags she is holding. “Really? Do you really have to say it like that?” she berates, setting the groceries on the kitchen counter. Juni just shakes her head, “When you are that loud, I do have to mention it, Sweetie.” Y/N drops eye contact in embarrassment and busies herself with putting the food away. Juni stops Y/N and gives her a serious look. “Be careful, Sweetie. I’m scared you are getting caught up with your feelings and you blurred the lines too much.” “You don’t have to worry about it. I know that this is all fake,” Y/N promises, finally, looking at her best friend.

Her heart isn’t sure what she said was the truth. Every time she feels his skin on hers, her heart starts to belong more and more to him.

Taglist: @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @aprilrudgate @loving-and-dreaming @thepatriarchykeychain @maybankslover @abbybarnesstuff @wh0reforbucknasty @spencereidbasis @starkowswife @drewsmusee @mskezza @h34rtsformilli

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ostentatiouslyonigiri · 1 month ago

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Illumi Zoldyck prompt # 41

“Why’re you crying? Aren’t you happy to be with me?”

Clad in your usual attire of washed out bluejeans, worn out sneakers, and an oversized sweater just begging to be put out of its misery, the weather was a bit humid and the sky was overcast. The stickiness of the air clung to your skin like a child would to its mother and served to only support your bed and cover's plea for you to return, and once again, bask in its embrace—but today was special. Your fiancé, Jaren, had just finished his medical thesis on the ethics of healthcare and was going to present it to the campus' esteemed doctors, who would occasionally come to scout out new talent.Jaren wasn't dumb, he was actually quite brilliant; though his predisposition to overanalyze, and thus slow his progress on a project, created the impression of incompetency. In a school as expensive and competitive as his, even the notion of ineptitude was enough to ruin careers and social standings before they even began. Despite his faults, you still loved him all the same. Even if he wasn't the richest or most handsome guy, even if he couldn't provide for you both as much as you would have liked, and even if he was somewhat forgetful of certain dates, you were happy all the same. He was going to ace this, and when he did, he'll come home to a delicious meal!

As you made your way to the store with the money you managed to scrape by, you hummed to yourself a song that refused to leave. You stopped. Your head shifted around and the rhythmic pitter patter of your shoes hitting the pavement came to a halt. Something in the air felt off. The normally populated market center was now a ghost town and you don't like it. Making a mental note not to idle too much, you pushed the uneasy feeling deep into your mind and continued on.

What you saw as you entered the store was something no person should ever see: Slumped against the wall, face contorted in a silent scream, was the body-no corpse- of a man. Where his eyes should be, were needles; multiples of them all crammed into the sockets of the man as his hands were held against the wall with more of said needles. Stumbling back one step, two steps, then four, you grabbed your phone and called the police. Hours later, the once idle shopping center became rife with crowds of people and police; all trying to get their fill of the incident to either report to online sources or simply to curb their morbid curiosity. Police, soon after establishing the crime scene, ushered out what was left of said crowd and continued with their administrations. Of course, after questioning, you too joined those escorted out of the store...But as you left with the crowd, you felt the piercing stare of an unnerving and unappreciated presence. Your movements slowed and time seemed to yield, as if acknowledging as well the unsettling

cautiousness of the situation. Shifting from person to person, your brain searched desperately to pin the disquieting feeling being forced onto you as your eyes scanned the crowd.

Black hair; traces of long,silky,locks added with the impassive,yet obsessive, stare of the pale spectre only served to further disturb you. Observing the stranger, you couldn't help but to notice the odd beauty he possessed. His face was perfectly sculpted and was reminiscent to that of a porcelain doll, and his large coal black eyes- though creepy- only added to his hauntingly good looks.How long had you been staring at him? Bringing your mind back to the present, you quickly oriented yourself with the crowd of people and like that, the stranger was gone. 'How curious…', you thought to yourself.

It had all happened so fast; the days that later turned into months following your meeting with the beautiful stranger yielded some interesting results. For one, the rent that seemed to only continue being pushed back with the hope of being satisfied when things got better, were suddenly paid for.That annoying neighbor that insisted that we were too loud, suddenly found us to be less annoying and became sparse. You even mysteriously found that particular brand of perfume you've always wanted was right at your doorstep, ready to be used.As these kind gestures from the universe seemed to throw itself at you,your fiancé you joked about the source of it all. Maybe a fellow student at his university was silently acknowledging his hard work and contributions to his study, or maybe, you joked, it was a ghostly secret admirer showing his appreciation through great generosity. You found the idea funny, as someone as average as you would never gain such attention like that. Even though you found the idea amusing, your darling certainly didn't.He believed that this was dangerous and would come to bite them later. In all of these suggestions, never once did you assume that it could be the doing of the beautiful man you saw all those months ago. As the presents grew, so too did a lingering presence similar to the beautiful stranger's, follow suit. Could it be him? Whatever this was, it was a somewhat welcome extra help; well at least, it was, anyway.

While Lady Luck seemed to be smiling down on you in particular, she did not grant Jaren the same courtesy. On one occasion, Jaren found that his keys and other items were missing. Perhaps he misplaced them? You remember that night he had a seminar to attend and taking the bus was not viable. You tried your best to calm him down; you assured him that they would appear eventually, and that he could use what little money you got from your measly cashier job to send him on his way with a taxi.When he came home, he had stabbed his foot on a needle. On another occasion, the thesis paper he had painstakingly written and rewritten, to perfection, had been deleted right before a big presentation.You didn't know how it happened, as it had multiple backups, but this did not bode well for him,his reputation, or the grant money that you both came to rely on to make ends meet. Slowly, but surely, this situation became less and less amusing, and more and more stressful on your relationship. As the days dragged on and as the gifts increased, disaster struck.It's funny really how easily things came apart once he received a letter of expulsion for his supposed plagiarization of other more reputable studies. It was swift and brutal.

Suddenly, you went from living as comfortably as you and your love possibly could in your humble apartment, to relying on this secret admirer's kindly donations to keep you from being homeless. Though you tried to stay positive for the both of you, it was not enough. "I've had it with this stalker! My life is ruined, (Y/n)". Through gentle touches and caressing affection, you tried to assure him that perhaps this was all just a mistake on the school's part, and that all would get better; that was a bad move. " Don't you get it? It's done! I will never become a surgeon-I'll never be able to support you. Support us. What kind of man am I, that even this creep can be a better provider for you than me ?", He exclaimed. As he sat on the floor and sobbed into your arms, you felt the many hands and claws of agony grab onto your heart and pull. The intense gaze that seemed to surround you at almost every given day only intensified as the man in your arms gradually broke down. Was it enjoying it? It had to be, because if he even seemed to be doing well in the slightest, it's aura changed to a sickly one. As you came home from a particularly long day of work, Jaren was nowhere to be seen. At first, you believed that maybe he went to go blow off some steam with some of the few schoolmates that stayed by his side, but when you called them, they hadn't even seen him since the day he was expelled. You tried calling his mom; no response. It was as if he had disappeared off the face of the Earth.

This was all so long ago. As Mother Nature looked down upon the night sky and decorated it with flashes of light and sounds of thunder. The rain hitting the window with little thumps against the glass only served to ground you to your unpleasant reality. Today was the day you would give yourself to your secret admirer; or as you've now come to know him as Illumi. You knew that at some point in your newly established marriage that this would be an inevitability, but funnily time had a way of sneaking up on you while simultaneously giving the illusion of having plenty of it.

There you stood in the mirror, clad with the expensive lingerie that your dear husband's mother had ever so lovingly picked out for you. It hugged your curves with an embrace that could only be rivaled by him. It was a shame that said person had to be the one to see it and not your beloved from so long ago…

"You've been taking a long time". You jumped at the sudden introduction of Illumi. He often did this, wholey unconcerned about how awkward it made interactions with him become, or how you would wince when he went to touch you. This was way different then how Jaren would approach you. "I thought I told you to wait on the bed until I get back...Did I not make myself clear?". Just like every interaction with Illumi, this was rhetorical; an order that was phrased as something open to response on your part, but was merely his way of pushing you to bend to his desires. Not wanting to add to the scars from punishments given to you when you did not heed the danger in his voice, you affected a smile, and confirmed that he indeed stated that. He never was one to accept excuses.

Seeing the discomfort in the way you shyly shifted away from him as he snaked his arms around your waist, his normally impassive face shifting into a frown.

"( Y/n), do I not do a good job providing for you?". As you struggled to beat down the lump in your throat, Illumi's slender hands cupped your breasts, giving special attention to your nipples. Tensing ever so slightly, you prepared for another generic answer, but before you could, he spoke again: "Tell me, when you were with that good for nothing, did my gifts not satisfy you when he couldn't?".Tears pricked the sides of your eyes as you willed yourself to hold your tongue. Yet again, right when you were preparing to give yet another generic answer, his hand slid down from your breast and gently began rubbing circles around your now budding nub. His long silky hair and cool breath tickled your neck. You didn't want to admit it, but sometimes the gentleness of his touch was enough to make you want to give in to him, even if he was clearly in the wrong.

Though you didn't give a verbal answer, he seemed satisfied with the answer your body gave. Taking your silence as permission, he caged your body in his and led you to the bed. It was at this moment that the tears you had been holding back broke, and you found yourself to be only a mess of sobs and gasps. Towering above you as his hair became walls of ink , blocking out any and everything except his impassive gaze, he stood there as uncaring as ever and watched you unravel before him. Somewhat visibly annoyed, he wipes the tears falling down the sides of your face in a facsimile of fondness. " Why are you crying? Aren't you happy to be with me?".

Just as you'd done before, you gave in and did as he wanted. You gave him another set of words that would satisfy his need for control; "Yes, of course I'm happy to be with you".

After all, he was your husband and you were his cute, obedient, little wife.

#hxh #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere illumi #illumi zoldyck #hxh illumi #illumi #hunter x hunter #OstentatiouslyOnigiri #not proofread #old fics

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thap1nkblog · 5 months ago

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[★] ᵈᵒʷⁿˡᵒᵃᵈ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰᵉᵈ!

FILE PATH ↬ THAP1NKBL0G ↬ MASTERLIST ↬ [＃] P1NKYSH0TS

ᵐᵉᵗᵃᵈᵃᵗᵃ: keith powers [male!oc] x saweetie [female!oc], 18+, third person ᵈᵃᵗᵉ ᵐᵒᵈⁱᶠⁱᵉᵈ: 8/18/22 ʷᵒʳᵈ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ: 10,937 ᵖ¹ⁿᵏʸ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ: i had an idea of a spinoff/au for one of the books i was writing at the time. i wrote this in 2022, practicing writing in third person. originally posted on wattpad, lol.

❝𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐦𝐫. 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧.❞

❝𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐨��𝐫 𝐣𝐞𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐟𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞.❞

The energy tonight was potent, thick with the seductive, sensual energy that filled the club. Blue and silver confetti, and green dollar bills rained from the sky, covering the floor while lights flashed across the club, bathing everybody in hues of blue, while the crowd swayed unpredictably like a tsunami wave. It was fierce, tugging at you as you entered, beckoning to rope you into the cesspool of sexual tension and lust that was only fueled by constantly flowing drinks, given to patrons by scantily clad bottle girls who rushed from table to table with big bottles of various alcohols, while dancers dressed in next to nothing, and even nothing at all, spun about the poles on the main stage, luring men in just like a siren’s song.

This kind of activity wasn’t unusual for Club Crystal - but tonight was different. To those tucked away in the comfort of their homes, eyes shut peacefully away from Atlanta’s fast-paced nightlife, it was any regular Friday. It was the end of a long work week, and the start of a shorter weekend filled with relaxing and running errands. But depending on who you asked, tonight as a special occasion, one for the history books, a complete blowout.

Tonight was 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐁𝐚𝐥𝐥.

Not to be confused with any fairytale, it was the fifth anniversary of the day Club Crystal officially opened its doors to the public. The Crystal Ball wasn’t just any regular Atlanta event - each year, it got bigger and better, and each year, the theatrics doubled, tripled in size. Beyond the double doors of Atlanta’s newest strip club, right on the old soil where Follies once stood, cars were doing burnouts in the parking lot, and if you paid a pretty penny, you could get what they called “A Crystal Flush” - where you and your car could come out squeaky clean - if you held onto your morals and dignity once you made it out on the other side. If you made it out on the other side.

And in the middle of it all, surrounded by the smoke, reverberated, bass boosted music and buzzing, energizing sensation that seemed to drip and ooze from the four walls of the club was 𝐓𝐲𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧.

And the friends that had dragged him along tonight.

“Ooh, I love this shit!”

Sipping - or in his brother’s words - babysitting the Don Julio reposado that filled his glass, he slouched back against the couch, the black leather supporting his back, giving way for his shoulders to sink in. Terrell was like a kid in a candy store, flinging money over the balcony, the crisp, thin sheets of blue faced, hundred dollar bills slipping through his fingers, raining money down on the people below them. With the force and speed that he kept throwing, Tyree would’ve figured his arm would’ve popped out of socket by now.

Tyree sighed, checking his phone, looking for any signs of life from his fiancee. It was probably the tenth time he had checked his phone already, and he had nothing to show for the hour that had passed aside from the picture on his lock screen that stared back at him, and wasted time. His battery was dying - his phone and his social battery, but the party around him continued on, his friends blowing through stacks of money without a care in the world.

From where he was sitting, he could see the hosts for tonight’s event - Future and 21 Savage - throwing racks of their own, surrounded by an entourage of security guards, who enclosed them like a human cage - dressed in all black and ready to go if something unsavory was to happen. Bottle girls dressed in black glitter leotards slid in between the security guards, bringing over bottle after bottle for Atlanta’s own royalty.

“Oh my god, nigga she’s not gonna text you back, she’s doing her own shit.”

RC plopped down next to him, tucking a stack of ones into the front pocket of his olive green Chrome Hearts hoodie. He peeked over Tyree’s shoulder, kissing his teeth at the blank lock screen that illuminated their faces. He attempted to pull the phone from Tyree’s hands, but Tyree tilted his wrist just out of reach from RC’s hands.

“I’m just checking on her.”

“You in a club full of bad bitches, sitting mere feet from Future, and you worried about Michelle? Damn, Terrell was right.”

“The fuck you mean Terrell was right, Julius?”

Tyre scrunched his face up, which only made RC grin, practically from ear to ear. RC leaned in close so Tyree could hear him, the sounds of Future’s Freak Hoe thumping from the speakers, making it hard to hear the person next to you - let alone hear yourself think.

“That you one pussy whipped motherfucker. You changed, nigga.”

“I’m not listening to a nigga who’s still out here chasing hoes.”

“At least I’m having fun. You over here checking your phone like you waiting for some STD results or some shit.”

“You the last nigga I’m finna let talk to me like that. Didn’t you have the clap? Twice?”

“It was once! And fuck you, I told you that shit because I trusted you, you Ronnie DeVoe looking bitch.”

RC’s not-so subtle British accent rolled off his tongue, his words like daggers, piercing the surface of Tyree’s emotions. Any other time, Tyree would’ve been able to ignore it. But this time was different. He felt different.

Tonight was supposed to be a night of celebrations, yet Tyree was stuck. Trapped. He was supposed to be happy, yet all he could think about was how time was ticking down for him. He was venturing into unknown territory - the hours counting down, leading up to the inevitable moment where he was no longer a boyfriend, a fiance. He was going to be someone’s husband. Tonight was supposed to be his last hurrah before he had to buckle down and get his mind on straight. Yet, his mind was completely elsewhere. And RC’s playful teasing wasn’t making it any better. RC didn’t know, or maybe he did, but all it did was make Tyree think about what he was walking into.

Like he wasn’t thinking about it enough, already.

The hours were counting down, leading up until the moment where he was going to be walking down the aisle, but the more he thought about it, the more the nagging voice in the back of his head picked at him. The more the nerves set in, the more his stomach twisted in knots, and the knot in his chest only grew larger. He didn’t know exactly why he felt like that - I mean it was natural to feel nervous right? To feel like you’d fall to pieces?

But for some reason, Tyree couldn’t shake that it was a symptom of something bigger. Way bigger than just nerves. Bigger than just “cold feet”. Shit, he was feeling frigid. Like a sheet of ice floating in the Antarctic Ocean. Ice fucking cold.

And he didn’t want to think about that.

“Nigga, you still got that damn glass in your hand?”

Leaving his spot at the balcony, Terrell sat down next to Tyree, the expensive, yet popular scent of Dior’s Sauvage cologne following behind him. Dressed to impress in a white and navy blue designer polo shirt, his brother’s heavily tattooed arms were exposed, his brother’s flashy style only amplified by the gigantic, diamond, two-tone cuban link chain around his neck, and the diamond Rolex watch that reflected the lights that flashed above them. From the moment they walked in, Terrell had all eyes on him, gathering attention from everybody they walked past, his personality and demeanor attracting them like moths to a flame. As bottled girls flooded their section with what seemed like endless rounds of drinks, they made sure to be extra nice to Terrell, his charismatic personality and the money he flashed making them swoon.

“No, this is my-”

“Oh cut the cap nigga, you been sitting there like one of them bronze ass statues for the past hour.”

Reaching for a drink glass of his own, Terrell poured himself a drink from the slender, tall bottle of 1942, clinking it against Tyree’s glass.

“For a nigga who’s getting married, you sure acting like you going to a funeral instead.”

“This just isn’t my kind of scene, and you know that.”

“So? Michelle ain’t here - the fuck is she finna do? Besides, this is your last blowout, man. You already know Michelle’s gonna keep you locked down once you tie the knot.”

Tyree watched as Terrell brought the glass to his lips, tossing back the liquid in the glass without even a second thought. He didn’t even wince as he placed the cup back down on the round, glass table, amongst all the other bottles of liquor and empty cups and glasses that took up space on the small surface, surrounding an ice bucket that sat in the middle of the table.

But even though Terrell was putting on a larger than life, excited persona for everybody else, Tyree could see straight through it. It was in the way he was looking at him - worried, confused. Apprehensive.

But that wasn’t new, especially from Terrell. He had been against Tyree marrying Michelle from the moment he saw the forty-thousand dollar engagement ring on her finger.

“I can’t believe you’re getting fucking married.”

And in all honesty - Tyree couldn’t believe he was getting married, either. It wasn’t that he had anything against getting married, no, never. He wasn’t afraid of commitment, shit, he wanted to settle down. He already did all the late night hookups, spending thousands of dollars on women he knew it wouldn’t work out with. He had been the boyfriend, the ex boyfriend, the side nigga, friends with benefits - and he was tired of the drama and mess that had came with it. And in his line of work, you needed a partner to keep your secrets. Someone that you could trust.

But even with all of that, he never saw himself getting married so soon. It sounded good on paper. Perfect, actually. Something that would be the final puzzle pieces to his life.

But he was only getting older, and his hand was practically forced due to the revelation that Michelle thought she was pregnant. The two of them had been talking about having kids lately, but he didn’t think she was completely serious. And with the way things were going, a better time for things didn’t seem to be stretching over the horizon for him. This was as good as it was going to get.

But if you asked Terrell - it was a bunch of bullshit to him. He had always been critical of Michelle, even more so now that she was going to become part of the family. The two of them never really got along in the first place, so it wasn’t surprising to Tyree that Terrell was overly critical of their relationship. Michelle thought Terrell was an asshole, and she wasn’t afraid to tell him what she thought about him - which never failed to start all their arguments. And since Terrell wasn’t one to back down, he’d come in quick with telling her how she was a “stuck up, judgemental, spoon fed -” which by then Tyree would usually step in and break them up.

“Well believe it, cause it’s happening.”

Terrell rolled his eyes, nudging Tyree’s arm.

“Well if you’re gonna leave me by myself, the least you could do is drink. You know how expensive all this shit was?”

“Again, I ain’t ask you to do this.”

“Fuck you. It’s a celebration for you. The least your stone cold ass could do is try to enjoy yourself.”

“I’m sick and tired of hearing y’all niggas’ mouths. Fine, whatever.”

And with a little extra peer pressure from his brother, Tyree finished the drink in his glass, and gulped down the next shot Terrell had poured for him. He downed the next round of shots they all had prepared when Dominic rejoined the group, covered in glitter and lipgloss. And while Tyree decided against asking what mess he had gotten himself into, RC made a toast.

“To Tyree, that nigga is all grown up!”

And as the the dark liquor coursed through his veins, Tyree couldn’t help but find himself sucked into the enticing, sexual ambiance that radiated throughout the club, slowly tugging, perminating on his mental. His friends were right - this was his last night before he had to buckle down and fly straight. They were celebrating him, and who was he to refuse? His brother didn’t do all of this for it to go to waste, and it was all in the name of “celebration”.

That’s what he was supposed to be doing, right?

All of his worries and the barrage of thoughts about his upcoming wedding, and the pressure he was feeling seemed to fade away with a few drinks, beautiful bottle girls flooding their section with overpriced bottles of liquor, topped off with sparklers while strippers dressed in hues of pastel blues and white danced against them, money beginning to litter the floor beneath their feet. He could feel the booming, fast paced beats in his chest, the melodic tune of Lil Baby and Gunna’s Never Recover echoing throughout the club as the DJ and patrons below them recited the lyrics on time and without missing a beat.

“Throw that fucking money! We know y’all got it!”

Turning his attention from the conversation he was having with Dominic, the DJ’s loud voice in his ears announced the next set of dancers on the stage, only catching one of their names before the horns and explosion sounds gave way to the next song in the queue.

“Shit..these bitches ain’t no fucking joke!”

As Dominic threw fistfuls of money with no rhyme or reason, Tyree found his eyes glued to the girls that twirled around the pole, the duo dressed in matching, soft blue monokinis. The strappy, barely there outfits stretched over their curves, the rhinestones that adorned the straps twinkling as the light as they spun around, their bodies gliding around the pole. His eyes followed their movements, bouncing between the two of them as they put him in a trance. Mimi, a beautiful girl with long, blonde hair in layers that framed her face, garnered his attention initially, his eyes catching the vibrant colored floral tattoo on her thigh.

Money burned a hole in his pocket, the intensity of the flames only getting hotter as the other girl on stage caught his attention, his eyes and head following her movements as she climbed up the top of the pole. The other girl, with caramel skin and curly, black hair that flowed over her shoulder ascended the pole with ease, the platforms of her heels flickering with white light as she contorted her body around the sleek, silver metal pole. Her hair slightly obstructed her face as she spun around upside down, approaching the bottom of the stage quickly, but stopping short before she hit the floor, dangling upside down. Her precise, but graceful movements were hypnotizing, complemented by the money flying in her direction, and hands reaching out from her from around the stage.

“Go on, throw it. You know you want to. I know you see something you like.”

Like a devil on his shoulder, Terrell egged him on, squeezing his shoulders as the two of them watched the mystery girl captivate her audience below. Terrell tossed his own stacks of money towards her, and soon Tyree followed suit, the bills slipping from his fingers, raining down on the people below. First went one thousand, then another, and another, free falling throughout the sky, the four men’s bankrolls blanketing the club like a flurry of rain. It just kept coming, and the more Tyree drank, the more money left his pocket - and he didn’t give a fuck where it was going.

As far as he was concerned, he had already spent a shitload of money on a wedding - funding six college tuitions wasn’t going to put a dent in his pocket.

“Aye, Tyree!”

Getting Tyree’s attention was Terrell and RC, who dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder. The two of them were well past drunk - well at least RC was anyway, who swayed from side to side like a pendulum, slurring his words. Julius stumbled over his feet as he walked past them, bumping into Tyree on his way to the couch, where he dove face first into the cushions. One of the dancers, who he recognized as Mimi, sat down next to him, propping his face into her lap as she handed him a cup of water.

“That nigga is done for.”

“You think? Anyways, I got someone I want you to meet.”

He watched as Terrell waved over a beautiful dark skin girl, dressed in a similar outfit to all the other dancers Tyree had seen running around tonight. Terrell wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and the woman introduced herself as Fancy, whose voice was smooth, and sultry, with a pretty smile to match. Her burgundy red hair complimented her skin tone, and she looked him up and down, her eyes lingering on the Audemars Piguet watch that adorned Tyree’s wrist. It was almost like she was analyzing him, and even though he stood taller than her, she kept consistent eye contact with him.

“You ready for your dance?”

“Uh, I didn’t order a dance.”

Tyree’s face twisted up in confusion, his eyebrows knitting together. Fancy kissed her teeth, rolling her eyes as she looked between the set of twins, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah you did, remember?”

“I-”

“Well someone paid five stacks for a dance - either of yall finna let that go to waste?”

Tyree already knew that this was Terrell’s doing, judging by the stupid, slick grin across his face, and the laugh that came from him. It was just like Terrell to set him up like this - he was always getting the two of them in trouble, and this was just another one of the tricks Terrell kept up his sleeves at all times.

“Five?”

“Pocket change, really.”

Terrell shrugged, unbothered that he just spent someone’s down payment on a car in record breaking time.

Before Tyree had time to object, Terrell was already pushing in the direction of the stairs, Fancy grabbing the front of his white Heron Preston shirt, the fabric pinched between her well manicured index finger and thumb. With Terrell following behind them, Fancy grabbed his hand, leading them through the stuffed crowd of people, packed in together like sardines, nearly taking up all the space and breathing room available. Tyree couldn’t even run if he wanted to - there was nowhere for him to go, and with the firm grip Fancy had on his hand, she definitely wasn’t going to let him get away. Not a chance.

They finally came out on the other side of the crowd at the private rooms, which was a long hallway with a set of doors fixed into the walls on either side. An LED sign hung overhead, reading “The Jewelry Store”, in bright blue, cursive letters, and underneath stood two security guards that blocked the entrance. Dressed in all black, they both stood tall, with their chests puffed out, and stoic, frigid expressions across their faces as their eyes scanned everybody that walked past them.

One was dressed in a black shirt and vest, with a gun holstered to his hip, while the other had a well detailed scorpion tattooed on his neck, white light that briefly swept over their side of the club allowing Tyree to see the intricate shading and linework of the ink. They looked Tyree, Fancy, and Terrell up and down, giving their sole attention to Fancy who leaned up on her tip-toes to speak to them.

While they talked, Tyree looked around, feeling a wave of uneasiness wash over him. Sure, he had been in strip clubs before, dragged along because of Terrell, but never had he done anything like this. This spelled out trouble, big trouble, and he knew that if Michelle knew what he was doing, he'd never hear the end of it.

But deep down, way deep down inside, part of him was curious. Where this curiosity came from, he didn’t know, but it kept him from walking away, keeping his feet firmly planted in place.

With one last, analyzing, throughout stare before unhooking the gate, the guards gave their approval to the group, one of them joining the walk as Fancy led the way down the hallway, which seemed to stretch on forever to Tyree. The music was much quieter, and subdued in this part of the club, and Tyree could hear their footsteps as Fancy brought them to their destination, her heels clacking against the concrete floor, the shimmery silver tassels on her heels shaking back and forth as she walked.

“Here you go.”

“What?”

Pushing him towards the door, Tyree went bursting through the door, nearly sent flying into the room by Terrell.

“Have fun. She won’t tell if you don’t.”

“Terrell-”

Tyree could feel the wind from the door closing against his face as he stood there in complete confusion, reaching for the door before it swung back into the door frame, leaving him alone in the room - or so he thought.

“First time?”

Caught off guard from the sudden voice as he stepped further into the room, he spun around, his eyes settling on the large mirror that was fixed to the wall. Standing in front of the mirror was the mystery woman he recognized from the stage, who fluffed out her hair, making eye contact with his reflection in the mirror. She smiled softly at Tyree, unfazed by the baffled expression that had washed over his face, trying to process what had just happened.

“Yes? Wait - no, no!”

Tyree shook his head, tossing his hands in front of him, unsure of why he was reassuring her, and what he was even reassuring her of in the first place. A soft laugh came from the woman, who gestured for Tyree to take a seat on the couch. Not wanting to be rude, he obliged, slinking into the soft, fabric couch beneath him, watching her step up onto the small stage in front of him.

Michelle was going to absolutely kill him.

The thought of Michelle finding out was sobering. How would she find out? He didn’t know, but the mere thought of that kind of confrontation sent his mind reeling. He might be able to get away with going to a strip club - you know, stretch the truth a bit about what he did for his bachelor party when she asked - but there was no way he was going to be able to spin getting a lap dance. She was going to be able to smell the club on him, he just knew it. It was practically undeniable.

“What’s your name?”

Pulling him from his obsessive thoughts was the mystery woman, who stood leaning against the pole in front of him, her arm wrapped around the metal. He tried his hardest not to look at her, wanting to avoid the reality of his situation. He looked all over the room, grasping for anything, something but the woman standing in the middle of the room to grasp his attention. The plush, gray couch spread out across the wall, simple, black paint covering all four walls. The light above bathed the room in a soft shade of blue, while along the floor was lined with white light strips.

And no matter where he looked, he could see her out of the corner of his eye, slowly twirling around the pole, her attention locked on him.

“Tyree.”

Wiping his sweaty hands on the denim fabric of his khaki, Jacquemus jeans, he accepted his fate, looking at her. She smiled at him again, Tyree subconsciously taking note of her warm, inviting smile, and her sweet, calming voice.

He didn’t know why he gave her his name, but then again, he didn’t know why he was in this room. He didn’t know why he was here, period. As the alcohol began to catch up to him, his brain was practically screaming at him to get up, to leave, to be anywhere but here, that this situation screamed trouble - yet his feet stayed firmly planted.

He could feel his nerves peaking, rushing to the top as the room filled with an uncomfortable, awkward tension. The subtle scent of weed and perfume hung heavy in the air, while silence overtook them, neither one of them opting to say anything further. Or rather, Tyree didn’t say anything further.

Yet, the mystery girl didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she acted like the tension didn’t even exist.

“So Tyree, how old are you?”

Was this what all the dancers did? Ask for your personal information? What’s next, she would ask what for the last four of his social security number?

“Twenty-seven. You?”

Yet, he still surrendered an answer to her question - Tyree unable to not notice how pretty she was, or rather, a voice in the back of his head acknowledged her it. He tried to ignore the new series of thoughts springing to life in his brain, breaking eye contact with her to reel his focus back in.

“Twenty-four, but my birthday is in two weeks. I’m a Cancer. What about you?”

“You believe in that zodiac stuff?”

“Yeah. When’s your birthday?”

She waited patiently for his answer as she twirled about the pole, the flashing white lights in her shoes beckoning for his attention. Even with his back pressed firmly against the couch, he could see the details of her outfit as she moved, giving him a full 360 view of how her outfit clung to her curves, stretching out over his hips, the thong seemingly swallowed between her ass cheeks. He wasn’t supposed to be noticing these details, and he swallowed hard, feeling his throat go dry.

Just keep talking, Tyree. It’ll be over in no time.

“August twenty-second.”

As if they weren’t already close enough, stifled by the stuffy, thick, tensioned air between them, she stepped down from the stage, standing in front of him. His heart thumped with each movement she made, his pace quickening as she leaned over, placing his hands on his knees, bringing her face close to his. He felt the smallest of shocks by her unexpected movements, glancing down at her hands.

He didn’t know how, but her nails were the exact same shade of her outfit, adorned with gems and jewels, twinkling in the overhead light. Her long, manicured nails stretched over her fingers, gently grazing his knees.

“Of course you’re a Virgo. I bet you’re a real critical person, huh? Always think you know better than everybody else?”

She spoke softly, almost whispering, ending her sentence with the same, nerve inducing smile she kept giving him. He rolled his eyes, knowing that she was right - but he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of knowing that.

“But isn’t that everyone?”

“I don’t know, is it?”

The two of them fell silent, but the tension before them had seemed to disappear, melting away in the matter of a few questions. In their silence, Tyree was finally able to get a good look at her, his eyes dropping to her lips, which were covered in a pink, glittery shade of lipgloss that made her plump lips stand out. Body glitter decorated her exposed, honey colored skin, and he noticed the beauty mark on her shoulder. Thoughts about how soft she looked slowly took over his mind, his eyes wandering down to her cleavage, before he realized what he was doing.

A lurking, ruminating thought in the back of his head kept questioning if she was as soft as she looked, tempting, beckoning him to make the move. He couldn’t shake it loose, the thought holding on for dear life, taunting him as she invaded his personal space - not that he was complaining. That’s all he had to do, right? She wouldn’t mind, right? They were already this close -

But what about Michelle?

Michelle - his beautiful fiancee. The one he was about to get married to. The girl of his dreams. His best friend.

He kept trying to jog his memory of her - visualize her face in his head, yet that all became a distant memory as the woman before him climbed into his lap. His common sense begged him to get up and go - take him as far as his legs could take go, but yet again, his feet stayed firmly planted, another side of Tyree taking over, one that was fully falling into the trance that seemed to be taking hold of him.

Taking his larger hands in her delicate ones, she placed them on her waist, the voice in the back of his head finally getting its answer.

She was soft. Real soft.

And she smells good. Real good.

But pushing to the forefront of his mind was his fiance, Tyree unable to control the word salad that spilled out of his mouth.

“I’m getting married in two days.”

He licked his lips nervously, his eyes searching her face for a response. He was sure she had her fair share of men that came through that were in his position. “Celebrating” their marriages by spending their last few moments gawking over other women, as if a ring and some vows were supposed to prevent a wandering eye. Tyree couldn’t help but wonder if that made her think about him differently. He wasn’t sure why he was so concerned about her opinion in the first place, but maybe it wasn’t really about her opinion, as much as it was about his. He couldn’t shake the lingering, overwhelming feeling that he was a bad person. He knew that he didn’t belong here, that this wasn’t his scene, that situations like this only invited drama, like his relationship wasn’t already rocky enough.

His engagement ring catches his eye, the black, titanium band wrapped around his left ring finger, inset with matching black diamonds. It felt like only yesterday when Michelle and him were picking out rings, yet here he was, with his hand resting against a stranger’s asscheek. One that he only exchanged names with moments ago.

But if she did have any ill feelings to what Tyree had admitted, he couldn’t tell, judging by her blank, unbothered expression. He half expected her to scold him, to get up and tell him to get his ass out of here, to ask him what the hell he was doing here. But she did none of that.

She just..continued their conversation, not missing a beat, breezing past his announcement like he had just told her that the sky was blue.

“Marriage is a big commitment,”

She told him as she guided his hands along her body, the pads of his fingers sliding along the curve of her waist as she moved her body to the beat of the music. She maintained eye contact with him, Tyree opting to focus on her almond shaped, dark brown eyes, instead of how smooth her skin felt against his hands. Fuck.

“You ready for that?”

“I don’t know, it seems like the right thing to do.”

That was a loaded question - yet it wasn’t one that he hadn’t asked himself a thousand times before. In fact, it was all he thought about recently. In between planning an elaborate wedding, picking out cakes and decorations and finalizing guests lists, the deep seated feeling of reluctance continued to set in. He thought that by now he’d be over it, able to push past it. But as the hours ticked on - the worse he felt. He wasn’t able to shake it off.

“But is that what you wanna do?”

But that’s because the feeling wasn’t going anywhere. No matter how bad he wanted it to. No matter how many times he forced himself to smile through fittings for his tuxedo, or the countless times he had looked through venues and talked to planners, and put down all these deposits. The feeling in his chest only continued to grow, threatening to consume him if he didn’t do anything about it.

And her innocent, well meaning question only answered his worst fears. Planted the seeds of feelings he had buried deep down, had convinced himself that he didn’t mean it. That it was just a phase.

Dropping his hands to his sides, he sighed, leaning his head back against the couch. He couldn’t hide from the truth anymore, and the fact that he was in this situation confirmed everything. He was drunk, unhappy, and lonely, feeling more connected to the pretty girl sitting in his lap than the girl he had known since they were teenagers. And he was beating himself up for feeling that way.

Michelle and him were the perfect love story. They were supposed to work out. They were supposed to be together forever, and live happily ever after.

But he couldn’t fake it any more. Even though he really wanted to.

But he couldn’t break things off. Not now. It was too late. For fuck’s sake, they were about to get married in less than seventy-two hours! It wouldn’t be the right thing to do.

But what about how he felt?

That was something he hadn’t given much thought to until she had asked.

“You know, you’re the first guy I’ve seen who feels bad about it.”

He leaned his head back up, meeting the sad expression on her face.

“About what?”

His words slurred together, the syllables falling against each other due to the alcohol that washed over him, along with his feelings. It was like a wave crashing against the shore, the feelings he had pushed away, compartmentalized in the depths of his brain were rushing in with full force, ready to wipe out everything in its wake. It oozed out of him, out of his thoughts, dripping from his words.

“About not being in love with a girl who loves them. Most guys don’t care.”

“Or does that mean I’m an even worse piece of shit?”

He tilted his head back, feeling tears sting the back of his eyes. Tyree wasn’t one for crying, and he wasn’t about to cry now. Not here. Not now. And damn sure not in front of a stranger - regardless of how sweet she seemed to be. He wasn’t going to be one of those cliche niggas who poured their heart out to a stripper, when they really needed a therapist. Not that he needed a therapist, either.

He felt a gentle hand reach at his face, her fingers caressing the side of his face, gingerly tilting his head back down to make him look at her.

“You’re not a bad guy, but sometimes you gotta live for yourself. Not for what someone else wants you to do.”

She spoke as if she had been in a position like that before - but the pessimist in Tyree made him wonder if she was being genuine, telling him that her wisdom had only come from the amount of guys who had probably told her the same thing before. She had no real reason to be nice to him - aside for money, yet something was telling him that she meant that for real, and was only trying to empathize with him. But then again, she was getting paid five grand for this “dance”.

She was getting paid to be nice.

But he didn’t want to think about that. What was he thinking? He didn’t mean any of that. Of course he loved Michelle. He wouldn’t stick around if he didn’t. If the feelings between them weren’t genuine. If their relationship didn’t mean anything to him. Michelle was the only woman he felt close to, that he could trust with anything. It was just cold feet. Everybody felt that way before they got married, right?

And to avoid answering that, he did what he knew best.

Deflect.

“Why are you here? You don’t seem like the kind of girl who would be in a place with this.”

She grinned, like she knew he was only asking about her so that it would take the heat off of himself. She didn’t call him out on it, and he was grateful. He was desperate to talk about anything else.

“And what kind of girl do you think I am?”

He wasn’t expecting her to flip it back on him, though.

“I don’t know, I’m just talking-”

He stammed over her his words, falling flat on his attempt to get out the hot seat.

“I don’t know, you’re just being nicer than you have to be to me.”

“You must think I’m paying for school or something. That’s what all you guys think, right?”

Tyree shook his head, squirming underneath her, which clearly amused her. She took her teasing a step further, continuing to playfully pick at him.

“You got a fantasy about saving a girl from the club? That turns you on?”

“N-No, I was just-”

She burst into laughter, interrupting his messy explanation, tossing her head back. She swept her hair over her shoulder, almost doubling over with laughter, the sound of her laugh just barely echoing in the room. She was laughing so hard she almost fell out of his lap, Tyree’s hands instinctively pulling her against him before she fell to the floor. The quick motion caused her to grind against the seat of his pants, a jolt of electricity running from his fingertips throughout his body.

Her laughter stopped almost instantly, a heavy blanket of tension falling over the both of them. It lingered in the air, almost stifling the breaths Tyree took. Did she feel it too?

There was no denying it - he was definitely attracted to her.

If Tyree wasn’t already in the middle of it - he was definitely approaching the danger zone. And the alarm bells that were firing off in his head were telling him that. Unfortunately, the sound of them was only subdued by the alcohol in his system, the same alcohol that was filling his mind with inappropriate thoughts. Thoughts about the pretty girl in his lap, when he should’ve been thinking about his future wife.

But the thought of Michelle is so far away with this girl in his face.

“I’m just a regular stripper,”

She leaned in close, her breath tickling his neck. She spoke in a soft whisper, pressing her body against his, the scent of her vanilla and brown sugar perfume filling his nose, her hand caressing the back of his neck, her fingers dragging along the chain around his neck.

“But I do think you’re kinda cute.”

Her soft voice against his skin made him twitch in his pants, something deep, deep down within him stirring awake. She guided his hands over her hips and ass, his hands lingering in that position as she wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning in close to him.

The inappropriate thoughts only continued in his mind, this time stepping to the very front, ruminating over the endless possibilities that seemed to race through his mind. She smelled so good, and her skin felt so good, he couldn’t help but hopelessly wonder what if she felt even better. His mind poked and prodded him with suggestive thoughts, fantasies forming in the back of his mind - wondering what she looked like without the outfit. What she sounded like. Even better - what she sounded like saying his name.

It was just the two of them in this room - they could do anything. They had enough time to do whatever they wanted, and nobody would ever know. Not Terrell, not the security guard, and damn sure not Michelle. It could be their little secret. That wasn’t so bad, right?

Their faces inched closer to one another, Tyree’s breath catching in his chest, while the sexual tension between them bubbled over, approaching a crescendo. Could she feel it too? Or was he just crazy?

But he’d never get the answer to that question.

Loud, forceful knocking on the door cut straight through their moment, and she pulled away, Tyree exhaling sharply.

“Time’s up.”

Tyree felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders when she stood up. His breathing returned to normal, the pressure that was building in his chest seeming to disappear as he snapped out of her trance. When he stood up, he swayed slightly from side to side, trying to gain his bearings. The room was spinning, his head was spinning, and so was his stomach. Why’d he drink so much?

As if she noticed, she took his hand, guiding him out of the room and back down the lengthy hallway. With each wobbly, drunken step he took, he tried to match her decisive, smaller steps. The music was pounding, reverberating through his body, almost like a breath of fresh air from whatever situation he had gotten - or almost got himself into in that room.

He wandered over to the bar, not noticing that the mystery woman had left his side until his brother appeared in his face, sliding a cup of water in his direction.

Any other time he might’ve been relieved to see Terrell, but after the shit he pulled, he didn’t even want to look at him. It was like looking into a mirror - a mirror that reflected his fuck ups and bad decisions right back at him, and reflected his own stupidity. Fortunately, it wasn’t like Tyree could see his face clearly, anyways - his head was swirling. Swirling with alcohol induced confusion, beating him up about his even more confused perceptions about Michelle, and his attraction to a scantily clad stranger - who represented temptation thinly veiled behind invasive questions and well intentioned advice.

He couldn’t believe he actually considered cheating on Michelle. His future wife. The woman he had been with and pined over on and off since he was eighteen. His family. The future mother of his kids.

Even if it was just a kiss - how far could it have really gone? He wanted to lie to himself, tell himself that he was stronger than that, better than that. He wasn’t a cheater. He didn’t want to throw away his relationship for just a moment of weakness. A moment of pleasure. If he was so strong, why couldn’t he stop replaying that blimp in time? Why couldn’t he ignore that feeling of her breath on his neck, the way her fingers lightly danced across the back of his neck? The way her voice sounded like a melody in his ears?

What was he doing? What was wrong with him? He was going to marry Michelle and that was it. He was going to fix things. Fly straight and erase this night, and her, from his mind. He loved Michelle. He wanted to be with her - he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her - even though that seemed like a long, fucking time. Then what was the issue? Why was he so hung up on some girl he didn’t even know? He didn’t even know her name!

Because - he didn’t really want to get married.

Hell, he didn’t want to have kids now. Not where he was at in his life. Not with what he did with his life. He didn’t want to bring a child into this world with the dirt he did. It would be putting too much at risk.

More importantly, he wasn’t happy.

“You alright man?”

Terrell shook his shoulders, his face flushing with worry, while the array of lights overhead bathed his face in hues of blue and purple. Tyree weaseled out of his grasp, putting some distance between them, nodding his head.

“I’m good, I just need some fresh air.”

He doubted Terrell could hear him over the music, but he assumed Terrell got the hint when he didn’t follow him outside.

Greeting him as he pushed through the set of black, double doors at the entrance was the muggy, humid air of Atlanta’s nightlife. Planes flew overhead in the sky, the stars obstructed from the bright, white and yellow toned lights that decorated nearly every building and street corner around the club. The line outside was still long - people still packing in, hoping to get a taste of the party inside, itching to cross the threshold into endless fantasy. The parking lot was full, folks posted up near their cars, some of them taking pictures while others played dice games or shared liquor from bottles they knew they couldn’t bring inside.

Overhead was the sign for Club Crystal, the striking bright blue sticking out like an eyesore among the other buildings surrounding them.

Tyree exhaled, leaning against the wall, pulling out his phone.

It was three fifteen exactly, and the club was scheduled to close in about forty minutes. He was surprised his phone was even still on - the battery on five percent, hanging on by a thread, much like how he was feeling himself at this moment.

Even fresh air couldn’t shake the feeling Tyree harbored in his chest, his heart beating rhythmically to his breaths as he contemplated his next move.

There was only one move to do, honestly.

And he was dreading taking the first step.

In the back of his mind, way deep down - which was inching closer to the front little by little, taking giant leaps - he knew that the dancer was right. You can’t live your life for others. You can’t go along with someone else’s plans just because they love you. It would be selfish of him to continue a life with Michelle that he wasn’t happy with, just because it made her happy. Her happiness meant a lot to him, so why didn’t it make him happy?

But he didn’t want to hurt Michelle.

And even though she would hate him, he knew she’d hate him even more if he followed through and couldn’t keep up the facade. It would absolutely crush her, and the thought of having to “fake it to make it” was going to crush him too. It was too late to get his deposits back and refunds for everything he had paid for already, but he had the money to not have to worry about that. And even though he’d never get that back, it was never too late to get peace of mind for his decisions and needs.

Staring down at the text message thread between him and Michelle, his fingers hovered over the keyboard. The last time they had talked was hours ago, right before they went their separate ways for their parties. Cutesy, sugary-sweet exchanges of “I love yous” flooded in between their regular conversations, with Michelle’s last message telling him to have fun, but not too much fun.

Tyree wasn’t one to be dumbfounded, or just draw blank - but for the first time in a while, he didn’t know what to say. For once, the overworking, clanking and crashing together gears that symbolized his brain were paralyzed, like someone threw a wrench dead center in the middle of it all.

“You think that wing place will be open?”

“It’s Friday, it might be.”

“I’d rather have Waffle House - they got them big ass chicken wings at that spot! It be making me feel like I’m really eating an animal.”

“That’s cause it's..really a chicken, Mimi.”

“I know, but baby chicks are so cute..I feel so bad for eating their parents.”

Tyree looked up briefly from his phone as the three women exited through the doors next to him, engrossed in their conversation about what they were looking to eat. Dressed in sweatsuits and carrying stuffed, duffle bags on their shoulders, a security guard came out trailing behind them, escorting them through the parking lot. Tyree recognized two of them as Fancy and Mimi, watching them as the security guard pushed past drunk party-goers who stood outside, hoping to make a move on them, hollering a variety of obscenities.

Although their faces were relatively familiar, the third woman was who he recognized the most.

And here she was, approaching him from across the parking lot.

Separating from her group, she dragged her feet beneath her, adjusting the pink bag on her shoulder. She walked slowly, walking through the line of cars that were trying to get out of the parking lot, and he noticed she kept constantly looking back and forth with almost each step. Almost like she was looking for someone, something.

Tyree could feel his heart quicken in his chest, and by the time they were face to face, he felt like it was about to jump out of his chest and fall flat onto the ground between them. His hands were clammy, sweating, and he tightened his grip on his phone, finding himself anticipating her words, feeling himself slowly falling into that trance. The temptation.

“You okay?”

Was all she said, keeping the distance between the two of them. Her demeanor had shifted, and he noticed she looked withdrawn, shrunken into herself, completely different from the woman who seemed to be in control of the situation between them not too long ago. Dressed casually, the black, cropped tank top and brown flared sweatpants were a stark contrast from her previous outfit, having exchanged her tall, platform heels for plain, black Crocs. Her hair framed the soft, beautiful features of her face, her arms and chest sparkling with shimmery, body glitter.

“I don’t know,”

He sighed, trying to shake loose the knot forming in his chest.

He just had to take the first step.

Nothing major, right?

But the first step was always the hardest step.

“But shit, I will be.”

Sending off a quick message to Michelle, telling her that they needed to talk, he locked his phone and pushed it back into the front pocket of his jeans. He gave his full attention to the woman before him, who tilted his head at him, her eyes analyzing him, seeing the slightest hint of a pitying, sympathetic look tugging at her features. They were quiet, taking each other in, an uneasy, weighted tension inching in between their lack of conversation.

It was clear she didn’t know what to say, and neither did he, but it seemed like she understood what he meant without him having to explain it further.

She looked over her shoulder, at the black, Dodge Durango where her friends were waiting, hanging out of the window. They had been watching their exchange for the past few minutes, and the driver flashed their lights, signaling for her to hurry things up. She looked back at him, something lingering in her eyes, like she had something to say, but was unable to piece it together.

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

She sighed, adjusting the bag on her shoulder again, looking him over, like she was savoring the moment between them.

“Well good night, Tyree.”

“Yeah, good night-”

“Yaya.”

He nodded, finally able to put a face to the name. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but he didn’t expect it to be so simple. So easy, slipping from her lips smoothly. He found himself repeating it in his mind, bouncing back and forth between the two syllables like a metronome.

“Good night, Yaya.”

Smiling at him, she spun on her heel, and with a slight bounce in her step and a subtle switch of her hips, she headed back to her friends.

But something in Tyree wasn’t just going to let her walk away so easily.

And Yaya only made it halfway across the parking lot before Tyree’s own footsteps trailed behind her, the last bit of liquid courage flushing through his bloodstream.

“Yaya!”

“Hm?”

She stopped in place, watching as he closed the distance between them. He towered over her smaller frame, and she looked up at him, a ready listener for whatever he decided to say next.

“Can I get your number?”

“Ain’t you finna get married?”

Yaya knitted her eyebrows together, her face scrunching up in disbelief. She crossed her arms over her chest, cocking her head sideways, the stern, stiff look she gave Tyree leaving him to pick up the pieces of the waning courage he once had. He could feel himself sobering up by the second - kicking himself for his forwardness.

“I uh..”

Rolling her eyes at him, she turned back around, starting to walk away from him. Yet, Tyree followed, calling her name again.

“It’s Amaiyah.”

“Huh?”

She shook her head, her arms still crossed over her chest. They stood a few feet away from each other, and Tyree could see the security guard that stood at the hood of the car, eyeing him. It was the same security guard from earlier, with the scorpion tattoo. Time was ticking, and if Tyree was going to make a move, he needed to do so sooner rather than later. And judging from the expression written across her face, Tyree’s time was about to run out at any moment.

“My name. I’m not a stripper twenty-four seven. Call me Amaiyah.”

Uh-mai-yuh. His brain savored it, just like it did with her dancer name. Pretty name for a pretty girl. It suited her.

“It suits you.”

Come on, Tyree. You got to have something way better than that.

“Why should I give you my number?”

Amaiyah stepped towards him, Tyree trying to figure out what to say before he was staring down at her face again.

And he couldn’t come up with shit.

She snickered, knowing she had caught him off guard, staring up into his eyes again. She stared long and hard too, like she was trying to get a clear read on him, debating if he was well worth the risk. And for the first time in a long time, Tyree felt like a high schooler, the look in her eyes reminding him of how a parent would over analyze someone coming over to take their daughter on a date.

But then her eyes softened, and a wave of relief flushed over him. He passed her checklist. Good.

She held her hand out, and he didn’t hesitate to slip his unlocked phone into her hand. He watched patiently as typed her number in, adding herself to his short list of contacts. The bright light from his phone reflected in her face, and she locked it back before she handed it to him, pushing it into his hand.

“Figure your shit out and then come see me again.”

“How am I supposed to know the next time you work?”

The cynic in him told him that it was just a ploy to get him back in the club, back in that cesspool of sexual tension and lust, clouded with free flowing alcoholic drinks. She thought he was a sucker - that she’d get him to spend every last dollar he had on her-

“I work every Wednesday through Saturday,”

She broke his rapid train of thought, bursting the bubble of negative thoughts that tried to balloon up.

“Don’t text me if you change your mind. I’m not a homewrecker.”

He nodded, listening intently as her subtle accent popped at the end of her words. She sounded like she was from out of town, her accent covered by a thin blanket of that familiar, southern, Atlanta twang. Her face was serious, and her words told him she meant business.

And Tyree was all about his business.

With an unspoken understanding between them, and a feminine wave, she turned on her heel, heading back towards her ride. Fancy and Mimi eyed him as Amaiyah climbed into the SUV, and he could hear them teasing her, their voices being drowned out by the low rumble of the engine, the car’s headlights shining against his legs.

With her number in his phone, and a confident pep in his step, he headed back in the direction of the club. People spilled out from the doors as people filtered in, stumbling over their own feet as they walked. One woman nearly fell to her knees, but caught herself just as a fountain of throw up spilled out from her. Gross.

As people avoided the woman - who had to throw up again - Tyree scanned the crowd for his friends, meeting them halfway as he saw them split off from the people wandering out to their cars. Leading the group was Terrell, with RC and Dominic following close behind, Dominic practically being dragged out by RC, who was holding him up.

“I was wondering where you went.”

Terrell wrapped his arms around Tyree’s shoulders, the two of them watching RC struggle to help Dominic stand on his own two feet. RC had since sobered up - but Tyree could tell he was still pretty drunk, judging by the way he staggered back and forth. If a relatively strong gust of wind came through, Dominic would’ve ended up right on the ground.

It wasn’t a surprise to Tyree that Dominic was wasted - that was typically his thing whenever they all went out. Dominic was the only grown ass man he knew that would purposely go past his limit and end up blackout drunk. This was no exception, in fact, the fact that tonight was so special only gave Dominic even more of a reason to get that drunk.

“Who’s that?”

RC pointed past Tyree, which made Terrell turn his head to look behind his brother. He knew RC was referring to Amaiyah and her friends in the car behind them, and he could still hear the rumble of the car, and see the headlights that shined straight in their direction. Tyree shook his head, waving his question off, keeping the events of tonight close to his chest. It was already tossed in the metaphorical lockbox in his head, wiped clean from the rest of his brain. He played into the facade, however, glancing over his shoulder briefly.

“I don’t know. Nice car though.”

“Can we get food? I’m fucking starving.”

Domonic spoke through his slurred speech, the words coming out all at once, sounding like his mouth was filled with water. He groaned as RC shifted his weight, Julius rolling his eyes as he dragged Domonic in the direction of the car. They joined the crowd of people, walking to Terrell’s forest green Lamborghini Urus at the far end of the parking lot.

Behind them, the Durango eased around them, cutting into the flow of cars that were formed in a line to leave. It rolled to a stop in front of the twins, the Toyota and several other cars behind them beginning to honk as the line halted. Tyree and Terrell exchanged glances, the limousine style window tints reflecting their image right back at them. The driver side window rolled down slowly, revealing the driver to be a brown skin man with face tattoos, an ankh tattooed under his right eye. He looked them up and down before leaning back, Tyree realizing that Fancy was in the passenger seat. She leaned forward across her seat, her eyes locked on Terrell, a smirk stretched across her face.

“Bye Terrell.”

A goofy smile danced across Terrell’s face, a smile Tyree had seen one too many times. He didn’t even have to ask to understand the picture being painted in front of him, and he shook his head at his brother’s antics.

“Bye Fancy..”

With their goodbyes exchanged, the driver rolled the window back up, giving the two of them an acknowledging nod. He sped forward, disregarding the people honking behind him, swerving around a group of people walking across the parking lot. The Durango cut to the front of the line, Tyree watching as it pulled out onto the street, heading in the opposite direction of the club, the crackle of the car’s engine fading out into the distance.

“So,”

Terrell turned to him, a sly grin replacing the smile on his face. He could already tell what he was thinking, and Tyree refused to give into the excited, expectant look in his brother’s eyes. Tyree wasn’t saying a word. What happened tonight was between him, Amaiayah, and what happened in the private room inside Club Crystal. And that’s exactly how he wanted to keep it - private.

Too bad Terrell was already one step ahead of him.

“You get her number? Don’t lie to me, nigga.”

Tyree couldn’t fight the smile he had, and Terrell grinned, shaking him back and forth, laughing. And knowing he was caught, Tyree unlocked his phone to show him proof. The screen opened right back up to Amaiyah’s contact information, where she left her name with a pink heart next to it.

“Yeah, I did-”

With newfound confidence and all the cockiness in the world, he handed the phone to Terrell, only for his face to fall flat when Terrell burst out in laughter, practically doubling over onto the ground.

“What? The fuck are you-”

Snatching the phone back, Tyree looked over the screen, trying to figure out what was so damn funny all of a sudden. Terrell was still laughing, wrapping his arms around his stomach as deep laughs escaped from his chest, ones that left him gasping for air and unable to form a clear sentence.

Then he saw it - right there - staring back at him, were the nine digits of Amaiyah’s phone number. Not the normal, required ten.

“Looks like she got you-”

“You got makeup on your shirt.”

Stopping Terrell’s laughter in his tracks, Tyree pointed at the big makeup stain on the front of his shirt. Terrell’s face dropped, pulling at the hem of his shirt, getting a clear look at the well defined makeup stain. He kissed his teeth, sighing harshly, and threw his hands up into the air, Tyree half expecting him to start throwing a tantrum.

“Fuck, this shirt was Prada!”

“And now it’s nada.”

“Nigga, fuck you!”

#[⇪] new upload #black!oc #black!reader #black!writer #urban fantasy #urban fiction #[♡] added to favorites #[＃] p1nkysh0ts #keith powers #saweetie #keithpowers #black writing #black writblr

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gloryhrs · 2 years ago

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━━ ⟡ 𝓢𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝓡𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍, ichigo kurosaki.

male reader.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ 𝐈𝐓 wasn’t a secret that you were a ginormous spoiled brat, throughout your childhood you got everything you wanted without hesitation. And when you started dating Ichigo Kurosaki, he only made matters worse. He spoiled you rotten till the point of no return. The orange-haired male got you everything you pointed at in the store, he didn’t care about how much money he was wasting, the only thing he cared about was seeing you happy and attending to your wants and needs. He would do anything for you, plus he didn’t have the guts to say no to your adorable puppy face.

He’s so smitten with you that it is insane, every time you leave to go home or back to your class he can’t help but miss you every single time, it’s like you put him under a spell. The thought of you never failed to make his heart speed up, the way you always cuddle up the to him and smother his face with kisses when he completes his homework, how you enjoy having sleepovers/movies nights with Karin and Yuzu, and the way you would nuzzle your face into his neck when he carried you on his back. I miss him he sighed with a dopey smile on his face, he could spend every second with you and not get aggravated or pissed off, you are just that perfect to him.

Once the teacher dismissed them for lunch Ichigo immediately got up from his seat to pick his boyfriend up, "Ichigo!!! How come you never want to hang out with us during lunch anymore? Are you ashamed of us?" Crocodile tears spilled from Keigo’s eyes as he latched onto Kurosaki’s waist, which caused an imaginary vein to appear on his head at the annoying male. "I’m always hanging out with you guys! Now piss off you idiot!" He punched the brown-haired male in the head which made him howl out in pain.

Once Ichigo disappeared from his sight Keigo scratched his head at the male who’s always quick to go when it’s time to leave class. "Hey… do any of you think Ichigo has a girlfriend or something?" He turned to ask his group of friends who already opened their bento boxes, "He has a boyfriend, and his name is ( Y / n ) ( L / n )." Chad bluntly stated to the male whose eyes were about to pop out of their sockets from this newfound piece of information.

"What?! You talking about that nerd from class 1-A?" He titled his head from confusion without knowing the glares he was receiving from Tatsuki, Uryu, and Chad. "Just because someone is smart and wears glasses doesn’t mean they’re a nerd, you loser." Uryu mumbled loud enough for Keigo to hear which made him roll his eyes and laugh at him. "Of course you’re saying that, you’re one too!" He continued to laugh at the glasses-wearing male who looked like he was on the verge of snapping at any second.

"He and Kurosaki are so cute together! The way he spoils him is so adorable!" Orihime laughed and clapped her hands together at the thought of Ichigo spending every yen in his wallet to satisfy his boyfriend. "Ichigo has money too?!" Keigo gawked at Orihime’s assertion as a sinister smile formed on his face. "Well, I guess he wouldn’t mind me joining them for lunch today!" He rubbed his hands together before grabbing his lunch and bolting out of the classroom.

#T: "Ichigo is going to fucking destroy him."

#U: "Good. Hopefully he makes it quick."

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 wind blew lightly against your ( h / c ) curls as you sat on your boyfriend’s lap while he continued to feed you your lunch with his back against the tree so you both were in the shade together, how romantic of him. "Ichi can we go to that cute stationary store that just opened? I heard they have some pretty cute Rilakkuma plushies there! Oh and after we should go get milkshakes too!" Your eyes sparkled at the thought of the plushies who were the same size as you. Once Ichigo nodded his head you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck and continuously kissed his face, "You’re the best boyfriend ever! I love you so much!" You laughed cutely as he returned the hug.

"I love you more, baby." He caressed your cheek and placing and a warm kiss on your plump lips, before you could return the kiss a presence made you both pulled away. "Keigo? What the hell is your problem man?" Ichigo’s grip around your waist tightened at the male who had a grinch like smile on his face. "Huh? What’s the problem? I just want to sit down and hang out with a close friend of mines!" The seventeen year old laughed and sat down in front of the couple who looked like they just seen a ghost.

After getting comfortable the male held his hand out in front of you with a less creepy smile, "Hi! My name is Keigo Asano! I’m in the same class as Ichigo and we’re really close friends. Nice to meet you!" He chuckled when you slowly reached your hand out to shake his. "H-Hi, my name is ( Y / n ) ( L / n ) and Ichigo’s my boyfriend." You felt your cheeks heat up slightly when Keigo placed his lips onto the back of your head, Ichigo couldn’t believe what his eyes were seeing.

“Don’t push it, you bastard.” Ichigo grumbled under his breath as he pulled you closer towards his chest so he could continue to feed you your lunch. “No need to be so rude Ichigo, that’s just how I greet everyone.” Keigo laughed off his nervousness when Ichigo gave him the most nastiest glare he’d ever seen. “I’ve never seen you, out of all people greet someone like that” Ichigo scoffed at the bullshit of a lie Keigo spewed out his mouth.

“𝐈 want this one Ichi!” You held up the jumbo Rilakkuma plush to your boyfriend who eyes widened at the size, after checking his wallet the orange haired male took the plushie out your hands and continued to walk with your throughout the pastel colored store with his hands intertwined with yours. “We should get these matching crocs Ichi! You be Rilakkuma and I’ll be Korilakkuma.” You giggled as you looked for the correct sizes for you and your lover.

"These are pretty cute as well, do you want this too?" He held out the matching rings and necklaces in front of your face with a soft smile graced upon his lips, “Yes! We’re gonna be matching everywhere we go.” You smiled sweetly at the orange haired male whose heart felt like it was doing to explode at that exact moment. Ichigo watched as you add item after item in the cart till the point of him having trouble pushing the cart, “Okay I’m done!” You smiled cutely at your boyfriend whose cheeks turned into a light shade of pink before pushing the heavy cart to the register.

“𝐈 had an amazing day today! You make me so happy Ichigo.” You buried your face into his chest as he played with the tight curls in your hair, the Kurosaki couldn’t help but laugh at your cuteness when he lightly pinched it. “I had an amazing day too, I’m glad I got to spend it with you.” He looked into your eyes and the only thing you saw was his love and adoration for you. “God, the things you do to me.” His grip on your waist tightened, which caused you to squeak and hide your face in his chest once more.

#𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐲𝐡𝐫𝐬 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚#anime #manga #animanga #bleach #bleach tybw #ichigo kurosaki #ichigo kurosaki x male reader #black reader #bleach x reader #male reader #bleach x male reader #black male reader #bleach imagines #bleach oneshot

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hearts4golbach · 1 year ago

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Light Shower. (Sal Fisher x Fem!Reader)

part 2

"feels like, man, ive really never felt the rain."

"I wish you had moved here sooner, sally. I feel like some of this could've been avoided if I had you here with me." I sat by my window, inhaling the morning dew. I heard sal sigh. "Wait, I'm not blaming you. you know none of this is your fault, and -"

"I know, Y/n. I still feel bad.1 I could've helped you."

"Don't feel bad, sal. you're the only one helping me now, you know." he looked up at me with a certain sparkle in his bright blue eyes. "Really."

"If you say so." he walked over and hugged me. I hugged him back, not wanting to let go. "I'm gonna crash here tonight if that's cool. or, I guess, just take a nap." he corrected after checking the time.

"You know damn well I don't care." I went to grab a glass of water for his glass eye.

he had his mask and shirt off. he laid in my beanbag and grabbed his blanket that he left over here to cover himself up. I passed him the glass of water and lay in my bed.

sally had fallen asleep almost immediately. his sleeping face was so peaceful. Despite what he said, he wasn't ugly. he was the complete opposite to me. of course, there were scars and chunks missing from his face, but beauty still resonated. I blushed as I looked at him. I quickly looked away.

whenever sal woke up, we walked aimlessly around town. it was a small town, luckily. me and sal went to the convenience store to find something to drink before we went to the park. we blindly roamed the isles, making dirty jokes about anything that remotely looked like titties. Sal stumbled upon a jug of lemonade and passed it to me.

I laid on y/ns floor, gazing down at the paper list of ideas we had to earn money for our very own guitar. we were out and about with my dad when Y/n pointed out this bright red guitar. we decided we were going to earn money for it so we would be able to play happy birthday at Y/ns 10th birthday party, and she wanted to play it for my 11th.

Y/n looked like a light bulb had just popped up over her head. "What about a lemonade stand?!" she basically screamed.

"That's a great idea!" we jumped up and ran down the stairs to our fathers, basically pushing each other because of how excited we were. It was a perfect plan.

"Daddy, Daddy!" Y/n yelled, running in and jumping on the couch. I ran close behind her.

her dad sat up. "What's up?"

"Can me and sal make lemonade? we want to run a lemonade stand. pleaseee?" she begged him.

"I don't care." he said and unpaused the movie they were watching.

we ran into the kitchen and grabbed all of the lemons out of the fridge. Y/n cut them while I squeezed them into the pitcher. 5 lemons in, lemon juice got into my eye. I couldn't reach it through the mask, I screamed because I was caught off guard. Y/n went to unbuckle my mask, but I pushed her away, covering the eye socket of my mask.

"sally? what's wrong?" she looked hurt.

"You can't see my face." I responded.

"Why? you know I see your face like a million times a minute, right?" I rolled my eyes at her.

"Because I get bullied for my prosthetic and what's under it. you can't look." I continued trying to reach my eye from the hole.

"You have nothing to worry about around me, sal. you know that! you're my best friend! I love you, sally. please just take off your mask and let me help." she said, pulling me in for a hug. I hugged her back as tight as I could. I eventually snapped out of it, remembering it was just Y/n. she was right. She had seen my face already a million times before.

she unbuckled my mask and placed it next to the sink. she took a wash cloth and gently rubbed my eye, taking the sting of the lemon juice away. she kissed my scarred cheek. I felt my face burn. "Better?" she asked. I nodded and decided to leave my mask off the rest of the night. we finished making the lemonade and went to give a sample to our dads only to find out they were both passed out on the couch.

we silently crept up the stairs to Y/ns room and laid in her bed. we laid facing the foot of her bed so we could see the TV. we watched whatever cartoon was on that late as we started to drift off. I crept my hand over to hold hers. I looked over at her, her face glowing a subtle pink. she squeezed my hand gently, not looking at me once. eventually, she rolled over to face me and fell asleep, gripping my hand. I rolled over to face her and fell asleep, too.

y/n woke me up the next morning to make our sign and set up. "Which sounds better? Y/n and Sal, or Sal and y/n?"

"y/n and sal." I responded, glancing over at her.

she shrugged. "Okay." we wrote 'Y/n and sals lemonade. $2.' she drew hearts, and I drew stars. she wrapped her arm around my shoulder as we gazed down at our masterpiece. "it's perfect."

I nodded, strapping my mask on. "Let's go set up."

we grabbed all of our supplies and set up our stand at the corner of the street.

I watched sal as he gently rocked himself back and forth on the swing, the toe of his bright blue converse digging into the dirt.

he cracked open the jug of lemonade and took a sip. he passed it to me. "I, uh, learned your favorite song on guitar."

"No shit? you gotta show me when we get home." I exclaimed, taking a drink as well. the deja vu hit me like a truck. he nodded. "we should go to a concert or something. I hate this boring ass town." I threw my head back and looked at the sky.

"We're broke."

"So? we could, like, sneak in or some shit. man, I don't know. don't be a fucking party pooper, sally face."

he chuckled. "fuck yeah."

I laid on sals bed, watching as his swift fingers move along the fret board as he played y/f/s. he finished playing and looked up at you. pride filled his eyes.

"sal, that's so fucking co-" the loud ringing of my phone echoed through the room. I gave sal a confused look before answering my phone. it was my boyfriend. "Hi babe."

"Y/n, you're a fucking slut. I know you've been sleeping with that blue haired femboy and your stoner friend. I fucking hate you. I hope you know I've been cheating on you too. you're the ugliest person I have ever fucking met. fuck with me or my girlfriend and I'll kill you." I closed my phone as he hung up. my head began to throb. I wiped away the tears that had started falling down my cheeks.

"the fuck just happened?" sal sounded panicked.

"Shawn just broke up with me."

sal ran to my side and hugged me. as I cried into his shoulder, it felt like all of the weight I had been carrying for so long was melting away. "I love you, sally."

"I love you." he whispered. he ran his fingers through my hair. we laid down on his bed and he pulled me close. I inhaled his scent, savoring every moment I had with him. I cried harder, maybe because of the relief I felt or maybe because of the pain deep down. whatever it was, I knew sal understood.

"hey, if it makes you feel better, the way he broke up with you was really fucking cringey." he said, wiping my tears away with his thumb. I laughed and pulled sal closer to me.

#sal fisher x y/n #sal fisher #sally face #larry johnson #ash campbell #todd morrison #tw drugs #friends to lovers #fanfiction #fanfic #light shower #melanie martinez

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torreshalstead · 9 months ago

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On a crowded street in 1944 - Chapter 14

Summary - The four walls of Upton’s General Store were all Hailey knew although she longed to see what else life had to offer. When a handsome soldier walks through the door, she thinks he might just be the answer to the life she wants to have. But it was 1944 and the country was at war. Would fate smile on her or would her heart be another casualty of the war?

Chapters - 14/16

Notes - I can’t believe we are so close to the end of this story, just an epilogue and a bonus chapter to go. Thank you so much for reading! AO3 Link

‘Where have you been?’ Ivan Upton barked loudly when Hailey walked into the store. Her grip on Jay’s hand tightened slightly. This was what she wanted and she wasn’t going to let her father tell her she couldn’t have it, she had already bent to his wishes more times than she could count. She wasn’t about to do it again.

‘I was seeing Oscar,’ she said truthfully, walking towards the back counter.

‘Oh,’ her father said, huffing slightly. ‘You were supposed to be manning the store.’

He hadn’t picked up his gaze from where it was scanning the business pages of the paper, his version of the Bible.

‘I needed to speak to him about the wedding,’ she swallowed deeply. ‘About calling it off.’

‘Calling it off!’ He yelled, his fierce gaze staring at her and then flicking to Jay who was standing firm next to her. When his eyes fell to their joined hands, Hailey would have put money on the fact smoke started to come out of his ears. ‘What the hell is going on Hailey?’

‘This is Jay Halstead,’ Hailey said, trying to keep her voice steady, even with her fathers fury spiralling around them. ‘Jay and I are to be wed.’

‘You’re already engaged young lady, you will be marrying Oscar not this boy,’ he spat, spittle flying from his mouth. Turns out even a soldier's uniform didn’t impress him, Hailey wondered if Jay had come in with a fistful of money in each hand if the reaction would have been any different.

‘Oscar already agreed to end the engagement, he doesn’t want to marry me,’ she said.

‘I don’t give a damn what he wants, the licence is as good as signed,’ he snarled.

‘But it isn’t signed and I will be marrying Jay.’ She was thankful for Jay’s calming presence next to her, he hadn’t said a word yet, letting her lead the way but she knew he’d jump in the very moment she needed him to.

‘Like hell you will!’

‘I will be marrying Jay with or without your permission, father,’ she said, breathing through her nose to keep herself calm. ‘I would like you to be happy for me though.’

‘Happy for you,’ he scoffed, his tone dismissive. ‘You’ve just blown up the biggest deal I’ve ever made.’

That was the final straw for Hailey, she had tried to stay calm, to be rational and reasonable but that had come to an end.

‘That’s the problem father,’ she sneered at the word. ‘My marriage shouldn’t be a business deal, I want to get married for love, not to add some zero’s to the bottom of your ledger. I am in love with Jay and he loves me, he’s loved me for months, longer than you’ve been arranging this deal for. So I will be marrying him.’

‘Hailey Anne Upton-’ he started, his bloodshot eyes bulging in their sockets.

‘I’ll be Hailey Anne Halstead on Monday morning, you are welcome to join us but if you cannot be happy for me and my new husband, please do not.’ Hailey had never felt so brave and she would put most of it down to the firm grip that Jay had on her hand, he had never wavered in his support for her. ‘Now I’m going to speak to introduce Jay to mother. Good day.’

She marched past him with Jay following suit, her fathers mouth hanging open. She had never had the gall to answer back to him before, and years of pent up energy had come spilling out of her without much control.

‘I’ll follow you up,’ Jay said softly when they reached the bottom of the stairs, he nodded when she looked like she was about to argue but there was something in his eyes that made her agree.

She didn’t go up though, she waited in the shadows and listened intently as Jay walked back into the store.

‘Mr Upton,’ Jay said, and Hailey’s chest tightened. She knew her father well, he could fly off the handle at the smallest of things and Hailey had as good as detonated a bomb in the middle of the store. Unstable was too polite of a word to describe him right now. ‘I wanted to let you know that I love your daughter and I will honour and protect her for everyday the good lord gives me in this life. I will support her with every penny I have, she is my family. I understand if you cannot accept that, or me, but I hope one day you will be able to. Because that woman out there is my life, and I will lay down mine for her if I need to.’

He didn’t wait for her father to answer and Hailey met him in the stairwell, tears streaming down her face. She didn’t say anything, just pressed her lips to his, smiling through the tears.

Not only had he given her the bravery to tell her father what she wanted but he had cemented it by speaking to him himself. He didn’t yell, he didn’t raise his voice or threaten him, he calmly told him that he loved her. She had never felt so much love from another person as she did in that moment. She had never thought it was possible. She should have known with Jay back in her life that anything was possible.

——————————————————————————

The meeting with her mother went much better, she pulled Jay into a tight hug even though Hailey was sure her father would have deemed it inappropriate. Her mother could see the love the young man had for her daughter and that was all that seemed to matter.

Back outside underneath the streetlight where they had both shared their first kiss and been reunited after too many months apart, Hailey once again stood with Jay, the brown paper package he had pressed into her hand the day before held tightly in her grasp.

‘You didn’t need to get me something,’ Hailey muttered as she let her fingers trace over the smooth paper. ‘You returning home is the greatest gift you could ever give me.’

‘I made a promise Hailey, and I am nothing if not a man of my word,’ he pressed a soft kiss to her hair and gestured for her to open the package.

Hailey’s fingers carefully undid the twine that was neatly tying it together and slipped her fingers underneath the wrapping. The familiar feeling of a book greeted her and she smiled up at Jay.

Removing all the paper which Jay took off her and pocketed, a copy of The Death of the Heart by Elizabeth Bowen is now sat in Hailey’s hands. Her fingers stroked delicately across the cover and down the unbroken spine of their own accord.

‘I promised I’d buy you a new book, seemed a fitting engagement present,’ he smiled warmly down at her as the tears were pricking at the corners of her eyes.

She never imagined she could be this happy - the man of her dreams was standing in front of her, their wedding was only days away and she was holding a book that had never been read by anyone else. This was the moment that people wrote about in books, a moment she never thought she would get.

——————————————————————————

They were married on the following Monday, just as Hailey had told her father.

They had managed to get an expedited licence from the church, apparently they were not the only couple who wanted to tie the knot quickly upon the end of the war. The dress her mother had made her for her other wedding was altered slightly, removing any of the suggestions that Mrs Farrell had made. It was much more Hailey now and her mother had helped her get dressed that morning, her eyes shining with tears.

Eugenia Upton had taken the news much better than her husband, pulling both Hailey and Jay into a tight hug and wishing them all the best.

Her father had given her the silent treatment in the days leading up to the wedding but he hadn’t kicked her out of the apartment like she had initially anticipated. She had expected to wake up to all her belongings being tossed haphazardly into bags and thrown onto the street but instead she had been ignored, as if she didn’t exist. Which, Hailey realised, if she was no longer part of the cogs that made the store work, was probably how she was viewed in her fathers eyes.

Still, it didn’t matter. She had Jay.

He had managed to find them a small apartment not too far away, it wasn’t any bigger than the one Hailey’s family currently lived in and he had apologised profusely when he had told her that Will would be moving in with them until he could find a place of his own. She didn’t mind though, it would be nice, getting to make the place a home and as Jay had said, they were family. Will was included in that.

She wasn’t moving in until after the wedding, they may have gotten an expedited licence but they wouldn’t live in sin. Monday came soon enough.

Jay and Hailey walked arm in arm into the church, a couple of the regulars from the shop were in attendance, Mrs Stevens with a big hat, Mrs Smith her eyes full of tears, she was a hopeless romantic after all and Mr Richards, his camera in hand, who Hailey made a mental note to introduce to Jay after the ceremony.

Hailey’s mother was there, sitting in the front row along with Will, Jay’s brother, who Hailey had met the previous evening.

Her father was notably absent. But it didn’t sting as much as she thought it might. He had made his decision and she had made hers.

She was more than ready to move on from a life in the store where her dreams and ambitions were put into little jars and then forgotten about. And as the minister pronounced them husband and wife, she knew her new life was waiting for her just around the corner.

——————————————————————————

Hailey and Jay strolled arm in arm towards the cemetery.

‘Are you upset that your father wasn’t there?’ Jay asked quietly as he held open the kissing gate for her.

‘I thought I would be,’ she admitted honestly, ‘but no. If he isn’t ready to love me in this life then he is the one missing out.’

‘I love you,’ Jay said, leaning down to press his lips to her forehead. Hailey closed her eyes and relished in the feeling. It was new and unusual, being able to show affection out in the open without worrying what other people might think.

Jay led the way over to where his mothers grave was tucked at the back of the cemetery, the plot was well looked after, the grass recently trimmed and the headstone had been polished, it shone brightly in the sun.

‘Hi Mom,’ he said quietly as they approached it. ‘Thought you’d like to meet my wife.’

Hailey’s stomach tightened, she still hadn’t got used to being called his wife yet, but it wasn’t the bad kind of tightening full of apprehension and worry, it was full of excitement of what was to come.

‘Hello Mrs Halstead,’ Hailey said, placing down the small bouquet of flowers that her own mother had put together for her wedding day. It seemed right to give them to Jay’s mother. ‘I hope you know how wonderful your son has turned out.’

Jay squeezed her hand a little tighter and Hailey didn’t need to look over at him to know his eyes would be swimming with tears.

‘This is the girl I told you about the morning I left Ma,’ Jay said. Hailey hadn’t realised he had visited the cemetery that morning, it must have been just after he dropped off the book for her. The book that was still one of her most prized possessions. ‘I married her like I told you I would.’

They took a seat, crossed legged on the dry ground, Jay setting down his jacket so Hailey’s white dress wouldn’t be stained. They talked to each other and to the headstone for a while, sharing stories, some they had both heard before and some that were still new to each other. Hailey knew they had gotten married quickly, that there was still a lot she didn’t know about her husband and he her, but she knew she loved him. And that was enough.

He was a good man. And hearing him talk to his mother only cemented that fact in her mind.

The sun started to wain in the evening sky and Jay made the first move to get up.

‘We should go Mom, but we will be back to visit you soon,’ he offered Hailey a hand and pulled her to her feet as well.

‘I’ll give you two a moment,’ Hailey said, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. ‘I’ll be by the gate.’

Jay nodded and let her walk away. She knew as well as anyone that sometimes you needed a moment with a parent, either here or on the other side, without anyone listening in. By the time her feet had carried her to the gate and she turned to face the way she had come, Jay was already walking towards her.

‘She loves you,’ Jay said, threading his fingers through hers, the newly familiar feeling of his rough skin against hers warming her from the inside out. ‘Let’s go home Mrs Halstead, and hope my brother hasn’t eaten all the cake.’

‘I can always bake us another,’ Hailey chuckled.

‘I have plans for you this evening my love that do not involve baking,’ Jay murmured softly even though there was no one around. ‘Will is going to the local with some of his friends, I’ve offered him money to stay out until first light.’

Hailey couldn’t help the blush that spread across her cheeks and her chest at the thought of her first night alone with Jay, she’s read enough romance books and her mother had pulled her aside this morning to give her the talk as well. She had heard other brides were nervous of taking the next step with their spouses, but she was excited. She loved Jay and knew he loved her with every ounce of his being, he would be gentle, tender and kind and would show her how much she was treasured.

‘I hope you paid him enough,’ Hailey sassed as she fell into step next to him. ‘You never get a second chance at a wedding night.’

‘But we do have the rest of our lives to practise,’ Jay winked and tugged Hailey into his chest dramatically, eliciting a small squeal from his wife. ‘And I for one, cannot wait for the rest of our lives Hailey.’

‘Me neither,’ she said, letting herself get lost in the feelings of his lips against hers not caring that there could be passerby’s tutting at their frivolous behaviour. They were newly weds, it was to be partially expected after all.

#upstead #hailey upton #jay halstead #chicago pd #one Chicago #upstead fic #hailey x jay #chicago pd fic #upstead fanfic #chicago pd fanfiction #upstead fanfiction #chicago pd fanfic

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pokemoncaretips · 2 years ago

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The magnemite line.

A strange yet no less loving pokemon.

General notes:

Many pokemon have unusual body plans. The magnemite line is one of the most well known. With its almost robotic design one could be fooled into thinking it isn’t alive and aware. This could not be further from the truth.

General care:The magnemite line is one that requires set up. As it is drawn to electrical sources, appliances in your house need to be surge-proofed. I’m told Devon corp sells devices specifically for magnemite owners to protect their appliances. However, you will need to leave at least one power socket free to allow them to feed. Though you save money on pokekibble, be prepared for a small spike in power bills.

That said, they have been reliably observed to eat berries by crushing them with their bodies and appearing to absorb the juice, though it’s something of a mystery how that process works. Keep wet wipes handy. Though you may think them brainless, magnemite does require mental stimulation. Though they have no hands or means of manipulating things, they can do one thing.

Stare.

They’ll stare at the TV. They’ll stare out the window. They’ll stare at any and all new things in the house. They’ll stare at you coming home. They’ll stare at you making dinner. And they’ll stare at you in your sleep until they power down ready to stare at things in the morning. With no hands or other senses like smell, they have powerful visual acuity. Why else are their eyes so proportionately large? All they really have to experience the world is vision. This makes them one of the few pokemon suited for those who often have to leave the house, such as office workers who might not be able to bring their pokemon to work. Flick your tv to the poke-documentary channel and they’ll be enraptured until you come home. That said, they’re no less affectionate than many other pokemon, and just because they don’t mind solitude that doesn’t mean you can simply ignore them. They get attached to their trainers and like to be included in your life. If one is truly concerned about them being alone, it’s not hard to catch another two magnemites and introduce them (following safe introductory methods) to get a magneton. Magneton are surprisingly vocal with each other. They’ll hum, buzz, vibrate and whirr at each other for hours. Many people reckon a magneton quietly talking to itself at night is better than any white noise machine for sleep aids. Magnezone are a little more interactive, and seem to be able to utilize certain fields to manipulate objects. This tends to manifest as them picking up an item, staring at it for a good while, then setting it down and selecting another. They very rarely break things in this way. It’s easier to just let them quietly fiddle. All members of the magnemite line benefit greatly from the occasional polish. They do sell magnemite formulated metal polish, but with their metallic biology no adverse effects have been seen from just buying some from the hardware store if it’s hard to source in your area.

Care rating: Green.

Training: Magnemite are simple enough to battle train, and with few messy or destructive habits, are easy to housetrain. Training rating: Green

Safety: All electric types carry the hazard of shocks, and these pokemon are no exception. Though less reactive than a number of other pokemon, they aren’t oblivious, and sudden noises or movement may prompt an instinctive jolt. If you have a pacemaker or any kind of heart condition, or conditions such as epilepsy that may be triggered by flashing lights, magnemite (or any electric type for that matter) is not the pokemon for you. Safety rating: Orange

Overall ranking.Chill little dudes that like their own company just as much as they like yours. Good for those who can’t always be home, but don’t forget to give them love and affection. However, they may incur some setup costs unless you’re willing to keep paying for new microwaves.

#pokemon #pokemon irl #pokemon care #magnemite #magneton #magnezone

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renee-writer · 1 year ago

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A Little Piece of Heaven

How great is God's lov? How can the creator of the universe care about the twists and turns of your lives journey? Ponder the thought.

If God were able to place the stars and their sockets and suspend the sky get curtain, do you think it is remotely possible that God is able to guide your life? If your God is mighty enough to ignite the Sun could it be that He is mighty enough to light your path? If he cares enough about the planet Saturn to give it rings or Venus to make it sparkle, is there an outside chance that He cares enough about you to meet your needs? Or, as Jesus says,

“Look at the birds in the air. They don’t plant or harvest or store into barns, but your heavenly Father feed them. And you know you are worth more than the birds… why do you worry about clothes? Look at how the lilies in the field grow. They don’t work or make clothes for themselves. But I tell you that even Solomon with his riches was not dressed as beautiful as one of these flowers. God cloths the grass in the field, which is alive today but tomorrow is thrown into the fire. So you can even be sure that God will clothe you. Don’t have so little faith!” ( Matt. 6:25-30)

Why did He do it? Did He have to give the birds a song and the mountains a peak? Was He required to put stripes on the zebra in the hump on the camel? Would we have known the difference had He made the sunsets gray instead of orange? Why do stars have twinkles and the waves snowy crest? Why dash the Cardinal and red and drape the beluga whale in white? Why wrap Creation in such splendor? Why go to such trouble to give such gifts?

Why do you? You do the same. I’ve seen you searching for a gift. I’ve seen you stalking the malls and walking the aisles. I'm not talking about the obligatory gifts. I’m not describing the last minute purchase of drugstore perfume on the way to the birthday party. Forget the blue light specials and discount purchases; I’m talking about that extra-special person and that extra-special gift. I’m talking about stashing away a few dollars a month of the grocery money to buy him some lizard-skin boots; staring at a thousand rings to find her the best diamond; staying up all night Christmas Eve, assembling the new bicycle. Why do you do it? You do it so the eyes will pop. You do it to the heart will stop. You do it to the jaw will drop. You do it to hear those words of disbelief, “ You did this for me?’

That’s why you do it. And that’s why God did it. Next time a sunrise steals your breath or a meadow of flowers leaves you speechless, remain that way. Say nothing and listen as heaven whispers, “Do you like it? I did it just for you.”

I’m about to tell you something you may find hard to believe. You’re about to hear an opinion let me stretch your imagination. You don't have to agree with me, but I would like you to consider it with me. You don't have to buy it, but at least think about it. Here it is: if you were the only person on Earth, the Earth would look exactly the same. The Himalayas would still have their drama and the Caribbean would still have its charm. The sun would still nestle behind the Rockies in the evenings and spray light on the desert in the mornings. If you were the sole pilgrim on this globe, God would not diminish it’s beauty one degree.

Because He did it for you… and he's waiting for you to discover His gift. He’s waiting for you to stumble into the den, wipe the sleep from your eyes, and see the bright red bike He’s assembled, just for you. He's waiting for your eyes to pop and your heart to stop. He's waiting for the moment between the dropping of the jaw in the leap of the heart. For in that silence He leans forward and whispers: “I did it just for you.”

Find such love hard to believe? That's okay. Just because we can’t imagine God’s giving us sunsets, don’t think God doesn’t do it. God’s thoughts are higher than ours. God’s ways are greater than ours. And sometimes, out of His great wisdom, our Father in heaven gives us a piece of heaven just to show He cares.

The Great House of Our God

Max Lucado

#max lucado #one incredible moment

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theorist-influencer-untitled · 2 years ago

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5.8.23 Monday

8am

Uncle Jun went out already 30 minutes ago, going to the forest of Georgia'z gang... Another flatness for me and bitterness...I feel hurt that i lost chance in life to be on a "runway"... These windblow people wanted to simply fade me, perhaps... I feel ugly and fat and I feel irritated...

People must be responsible behind the stage for what they did to me since 2007...

Don't decide for someone, respect a friend...

8:32 am

Uncle DD is calling me...My phone socket is kinda loose, it is on and off... He is trying to look for his vacuum cover a circular shape colour beige...

I'm not trusting him and the nozzle of my baby John's blower is missing in the box...

Everytime he visited here for some task to check people here, there is sometimes a missing item...Who would do that angels?

8:55 am

I have a windblow trap... I feel lazy to move....I feel frustrated... Crazy life here so tight and unfulfilled.... I feel bad...I wanna buy starbucks everyday....This is not my ideal life...

Irresponsible people in the bathroom as well....

9:18 am

I feel heavy,probably coz of menses but I feel panicky will be 42 angels... I frustrated and bitter...

9:30 am

My nana got a left eye bloodshot coz she accidentally bumped her eye on the kitchen rack 2 days ago...

Thank God I have here my DX Eyedrops.. I always need to have eyedrops with me, to refresh my eyes....DX eyedrops it is a japanese brand it is very effective to relive itchy, red eyes/bloodshot or if you feel something is inside your eyes... For my tired eyes as well due to stress of this windblow trap...

9:38 am

I feel bitter... I wanna leave the hometown and I feel hurt... I feel very jealous... I lost attention and I lost being great, I mean the chance of being great...

12:18 noon

I have the windblow trap... I wanna leave the hometown... I feel bitter... I feel irritated here not my ideal life...

Uncle Jun is here just to eat his lunch and for sure will go back to the forest.

I feel self-pity for 16 years... I can't exist....I choose friends not ugly and not overlapping my presence... I don't like ugly people as well... But I hate a barbie look who will overlap my presence...

3:06 pm

Realization this afternoon not all people are real in Lazadah angels, be careful...

Someone wants to damage the skin of the people coz they have Queen here in Cavite, supposed to be me!!!

Avoid buying stuff from these following store:

PH1892official store of Philip, Sunshine Boy, GREAT LOVE...

Great Love Store--they are selling Dove shampoo but can damage your entire head.

As well as the Sunshine Boy--- they are selling Milk Johnson and Johnson but same liquid they put inside the bottle of Dove Shampoo.

☆☆♡♡☆☆

I'm a Biology graduate angels... We had enough money before... Way back I could make everything but due to immaturity I wasn't able to grow as mature person... But God knew my heart.. If given a chance to have money again as in be rich enough, I wanna make my own shampoo, soap, lotion as an alternative if people are on their tight budgeting phase of their lives...

I mean people are mixed angels... Some wanted to damage your skin coz they envious of you and I hate coz they have their Queens...

My chemistry score was good enough... But I'm stuck here in the phase of a big question mark!

4:09 pm

I still have the windblow trap and I feel fat and ugly... I wanna leave the hometown...

I'm thinking of money and self-fulfillment... I feel bitterish here... They just made me their supporter....I feel intimidated on people here in Cavite, I should be in the middle-class and upper....I feel insulted and offended...

I hate being ugly and I feel that way...

4:43 pm

I wanna leave the hometown... I feel irritated...I hate bad monkey'Z! They made me fat and ugly angels... I feel bitter... I wanna buy starbucks everyday....They took away my life... They stole my stage these some bad wild animals in Cavite... I have a windblow trap and I don't want them to be my friends if they are fakers like the Georgia'Z gang...

I need money and self-fulfillment... I wanna do collagen shots on my feet... I hate it when some bad monkey's are on perfection and wanting to be my friend... I don't like them...

If they are ugly I don't like them! If they are smoother I don't like them as well...

I choose my friends and I can't see them and some new friends who will pull me up, most specially men...

I can't find a mutual partnership these days... There is none, all are just acquaintance now... Nice and fair acquaintance...

9:06 pm

I have the windblow angels and I feel bitter... I wanna find friends but I don't know I have complex... I wanna be special... I have complex since this windblow came for 16 years I feel self-pity...

I can't exist, I feel bitter....I'm a college graduate but the Philippinea damage my entire being angels... I lost men's attention on my rightful category... Before I was special and I can get whoever I want... Now, I have complex... I feel fat and ugly...

I need to be seen... I feel hurt even my Barbie image took away from me....I need money... I need a future with someone... I can't find new bf coz of my windblow trap...

A bad monkey wanted me... I mean A filipiNo is trapping me unfairly for 16 years... I wanna a foreigner... I feel bad, I have dildo gift by my classmate in Nightingale then if I'm gonna use that forever it is frustrating but I have complex... Now, that I'm not fixing....I wasn't able to go back to my original life... But I was thinking what was the moan of an american man? What is appearance of an Arab penis? I'm thinking this way coz I feel ugly for 16 years... I'm losing my self-esteem now...

Andy was weird, this is just a story now... I met him in Tagged saw his penis hahaha bumping a vagina... That was weird and what was the point? I think I saw his penis... He wouldn't believe me that I was 38 that time, probably he thought I was 15... A good beautiful penis of a canadian man...

I'm just short 5'2" but my biological father is around 6 footer and my biological mother is 5'6"... Unluckily I got my height on my old ancestors those chinese link on both of my biological parent's, they are petite like me...

This is a real trivia believe or not, I'm taller than my Aunt Karen but she looks taller than me... People will say, I'm shorter...

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abyssruler · 2 years ago

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the 7-eleven diaries

albedo, alhaitham, childe, scaramouche, venti x gn!reader

your job isn’t the best one out there, but it’s easy and keeps you from drowning in tuition fees and rent. working at a 7-eleven on a midnight shift was supposed to be peaceful, so why is it that you constantly find yourself being bothered by weird customers? (modern au)

fluff, comedy, crack, cashier employee reader, modern au, written for fluffvember!

ALBEDO

It’s difficult not to take notice of the perpetually tired college student (much like yourself) who always comes at the latest hours to order a cup of black coffee and a can of beer. The first time you saw him order that drink was a memorable one, if only because of the way your eyes had nearly popped out of their sockets when you saw him mix the two drinks in a large, empty slurpee cup and proceed to drink it all in a matter of seconds.

Another memorable time was when he came in with only enough money to buy a bottle of water, then took a seat at a table near the counter and took out a box full of what you initially presumed were cookies. It was a traumatizing memory you look back on with a shudder as you remember the way he crunched down on it like it was a piece of biscuit instead of a motherfucking spider.

“They’re surprisingly nutritional, full of protein and fibre. It leaves a strange aftertaste, but it’s a good substitute for dinner.”

Since then, you’ve made sure to keep some food ready in the microwave for him, free of charge. He just looked so pitiful sitting by himself with dark under-eyes and greasy hair — the very image of a normal college student — that you couldn’t help yourself from taking money out of your own pocket to help a fellow comrade.

One day, he came to the store with blown pupils and a sort of dazed look in his eyes, words slurring together as he tried to explain to you how he’s finally created an edible liquid that can keep sleep at bay for at least 120 hours…with some small side-effects, but it’ll wear off with time. That’s when you found out he was a bio-chemistry student well on his way to getting a PhD at his young age.

When questioned why he drank the liquid instead of having someone else do it, his response was, “To experience it firsthand, of course. The basis of research is accuracy and precision, how could I be remiss as to leave such an important experiment to someone who could, in their ignorance, fail to mention an important detail that their mind might have labeled as useless.”

You’re not quite sure how he’s still alive by this point.

But his weirdness aside, you resolve to take care of him in your own way, from a fellow tired college student to another. You remind him to get some sleep, steering him away from eating spiders and encouraging him to eat more meat.

“But I am eating meat?”

“Albedo, that’s a spider.”

“And are you saying that spiders do not possess meat?”

“Oh, for the love of—just eat the goddamn sandwich.”

You think he appreciates it, if the way he dedicated his latest thesis to you is any indication.

ALHAITHAM

You were in the middle of answering a math problem your professor assigned that morning, papers sprawled over the counter with you hunched over it, hand in your hair and trying not to pull at it in frustration over how difficult the problem was. And then he’d come in like an angel, all perfectly shiny hair and a no-nonsense look on his face, took one look at you and the papers scattered across the counter and said one sentence that saved your grade in math.

“You forgot to put a negative sign right there.”

That was the moment you decided that he must be an angel sent from heaven. He always grunts whenever you call him that, though whether it’s from amusement or annoyance remains to be seen.

He doesn’t visit the convenience store much, but when he does, he always spares the time to help you out with whatever assignment you were working on, sometimes even taking the initiative of asking if you need his assistance in answering a problem — though he says this on a much less nicer tone.

“Are you gonna make me do your homework again?”

“My professer didn’t assign me one today, surprisingly enough, so no.”

He seemed strangely disappointed when you told him no, but you chalked it up to him being some sort of math wiz who gets riled up by equations and the like. Seems like kind of guy too, what with all the times he’s made a subtle jab at your intelligence — or lack, thereof.

“How could you possibly need a paper to calculate the answer to four-hundred and thirty-two times fifty-eight?”

“Not all of us are smarter than Rukkhadevata like you.”

“Who?”

He’s not bad company, though that opinion stems solely from the fact that he helps you (solves it for you, more like) with all your homework. Not without making comments about you lazing about on the job and letting your customer answer your assignment for you. You respond in a mature way by making fun of him.

“I’ve never seen you without those earphones. Are you hiding a pair of large ears or something?”

“No.”

He refuses to elaborate more on the subject.

Sometimes you give him a drink, usually cola or juice, as thanks for helping you out. He takes it without question, taking sips from it as he tutors you about this and that, occasionally commenting about your job and how you’re only making yourself suffer by taking on midnight shifts. You don’t see why he cares. For all that you jokingly call him an angel, you know he’s far from actually being one.

You once saw him on campus reading a book by the library. It’s easy enough to come up to him and make conversation, handing him an unopened drink you just bought from a vending machine. It just feels wrong not to, more of a habit by this point.

It’s then that someone decides to dramatically drop his books to the ground and point at you and Alhaitham. The blonde guy gapes and asks how in the world Alhaitham managed not to scare you away. His eyes zero in on the can of grape juice on Alhaitham’s hand, and then he proceeds to laugh, asking Alhaitham since when did he decide to start drinking what he once called was an unhealthy drink composed of sugar and artificial flavoring.

You made a mental note of that response, and later that night, you decide to hand him a packaged biscuit. Nothing unhealthy there. Technically.

“Good. I was beginning to wonder if I should start taking medicine in case my stomach burst from the amount of cola you hand me.”

“You could’ve just not accepted, you know.”

“It was given to me. Not accepting would be considered rude.”

“Didn’t Kaveh say you threw a bottle of orange juice to his face after he gave you one?”

“I did.”

He refuses to elaborate more on the subject, but you’ve since resolved to only give him the healthiest thing you could find on the store—which isn’t much considering this is a 7-eleven, but hey, microwaved salad is still salad, right?

He grumbles about the radiation but eats the salad anyway. Another win for you, you suppose.

CHILDE

He came in near the end of your shift, lips busted and an eye swollen shut, blood splattered all over his clothes. The grin on his face should’ve hinted you at his lunacy, but you’ve always been blind to warnings and the like, so you went over the counter and helped him up from where he’s slumped over the chips and candies isle.

Aether, your co-worker and the one who’s about to take over from your shift, only looked at you with tired eyes, “It’s too early for this shit.” That was, of course, Aether’s way of basically saying, you’re on your own.

So you picked up the ginger lying on the linoleum floors, heaving his arm over your shoulder to drag him to the nearest pharmacy — never let it be said that you were just a bystander. He groaned as the movement bothered whatever injuries he may have, but he still looked at you with wide, strangely lightless eyes, as if only now registering your presence, and said, “Holy shit, you’re hot.”

After you finished dumping him on the pharmacy and leaving the people there baffled at what to do with an injured guy, he grabbed your wrist and, with a bloody smile he probably thought was charming, handed you a piece of paper containing his number.

You never text him. Or call.

He comes back to the store a week later with faint yellow bruises across his face and a far too bright grin for someone who’s visiting a 7-eleven at two in the morning. He pouts about not getting a single text from you, but before you can respond, he’s moving on to another topic, mindlessly picking up a box of tampons by the side and setting it on the counter.

He only seems to realize what he’s done when you give him a strange look.

“Tampons are, uh, great for bloody noses!”

“…Right.”

You weren’t convinced at all, but you decided to let it slide. He seemed like a genuine guy, if a bit too enthusiastic sometimes. His mouth never shuts ups, always going on about this and that, asking all sorts of questions that would’ve normally had most normal people backing away. But your brain isn’t exactly at its best condition and being sleep deprived for the better part of your life has made it less of a brain and more of an organ that just helps you get through the day.

You don’t know exactly why he stays to chat with you, buying ridiculous amounts of stuff that were frankly far too expensive just to have an excuse to talk to you. You don’t mind it much, especially when he’s a great deterrent for any unwanted petty thieves or middle school delinquents trying to rob your store every week or so.

Apparently, he’s got a reputation for being a bit of an adrenaline junkie and being willing to fight anything and everything that breathes. And apparently, word’s gotten out that he’s into you, like, really into you, so most guys who have less-than-well intentions have decided that robbing the local 7-eleven isn’t worth the trouble if it means having to deal with Ajax.

“Actually, it’s Tartaglia.”

“Tarantula?”

“No, Tartaglia. It’s my street name! Ajax just doesn’t inspire the same fear into other people’s hearts the same way Tartaglia does.”

“Whatever you say, Tortilla.”

“It’s Tartaglia!”

He never brings up the fact that you never call or text him back, even when he’s somehow gotten ahold of your number and started sending you memes and updates about his day. When asked, he just shrugs and says he’ll win you over eventually.

SCARAMOUCHE

It wasn’t intentional, and you’ll admit it was completely your fault, but did he have to be such an asshole about you dozing off on the counter?

“Have the standards really fallen so low that employees are now afforded to sleep on the job?”

Here was this guy at two in the morning, bemoaning society’s failure in raising the new generation to have a proper work ethic at a 7-eleven store. The guy had a rolex watch and clothes that looked like they were worth more than your monthly salary — you’re not one to judge other people’s appearances, but he’s the very image of nepotism. And frankly speaking, you’re of the opinion that rich people shouldn’t be entitled to an opinion on what the working class decides do with their life, like falling asleep on the job.

…And oh, you just said that out loud, didn’t you?

Oh well, your manager will understand.

The guy with a bowl cut leaves fuming, but not before slapping a wad of cash down the counter to pay for his stupidly expensive noodles, snarling at you to keep the change since you clearly need it more than him.

You do, in fact, keep the change. Money is money, whether it’s from your salary or a rich boy throwing a tantrum.

The next day in class, a bag slams down the seat beside you, and you’re met with the same rich boy from last night, a scowl painting his rather pretty face as he hisses lowly about how he’s surprised you can afford to go to college. Talk about holding a grudge, you would’ve forgotten all about him from last night if he hadn’t given you his change.

He fumes even more when you don’t give him any sort of reaction, merely nodding your head at him and turning back to the board to listen to your professor drone on about this and that. It’s rather difficult to focus, however, when he keeps muttering sarcastic comments and barbs to the teacher beneath his breath.

“If you even had an iota of charm about you, perhaps your wife wouldn’t have filed for a divorce.”

You choked on a laugh, hand coming up muffle the sound, but he clearly noticed, judging by the way he snaps his head to you, eyes wide and seemingly surprised you found it funny. You only smile at him, an amused little thing, but he quickly looked away and murmured something unintelligible beneath his breath, his fists clenched and the tips of his ears curiously pink.

He comes back to visit your job that night, still with that air of haughtiness about him but a bit toned down. Even more surprising was the fact he didn’t immediately leave the moment he handed you his money.

“Do you want the change?”

“Are you so desperate for money that you’d go begging a total stranger for some spare coin?”

“I mean, yeah, I guess.”

“Tch, fine. You can have it.”

He never fails to come back every night, always giving you the change for his bill, even when the amount is more than the items he paid for. Sometimes, he’ll even take out a snack or a drink from the bag and slide them over to you, cheeks suspiciously red as he did so.

“Don’t think this means anything. I’m only giving this to you because I know you can’t afford it.”

“It’s literally worth ten mora.”

“Would it kill you to at least give me a thank you?”

“Thank you, Kunikuzushi. I’ll be sure to treasure this can of cola that I would’ve never been able to afford without your help.”

“Shut up.”

He buys you a tub of ice cream the next night, the ridiculously expensive kind, to prove a point. The two of you eat it together at one of the tables, him grumbling about the stain on the table and the overall lack of quality and taste — at a 7-eleven — and you laughing whatever he says.

Well, you suppose he’s not as much of an asshole as you initially assumed.

VENTI

He’s a bit popular in campus, in the sense that nearly everyone is friends with him, which makes it impossible not to have heard about that one guy who’s really great at singing. You were, unfortunately, one of the few that aren’t well acquainted with him — aren’t acquainted with him at all.

So when he comes up to the counter, all boyish grin and ridiculously short shorts and a cute little pink hair clip keeping his bangs away from his face, holding an entire household’s worth of vodka and wine, you do what any rational semi-adult would do and look at him with a blank face.

“Are you even old enough to drink?”

He laughs at you like this is a common occurrence he faces on the daily before slapping down his ID on the counter. And huh, would you look at that, he’s even older than you are.

He then lights up once he gets a good look at you. “Hey, you’re Albedo’s friend, aren’t you?” He abandons his alcohol at the counter in favor of looking around your quaint little convenient store. “So this is that 7-eleven he keeps talking about…”

You’re not exactly sure what he’s going on about, but you do know he must be a friend of Albedo’s, which makes you ease up around him. He’s nice. Sort of. If you ignore the teasing and the jokes and the way he keeps asking you to give him a student discount. For alcohol. You’d given him what you hoped was your best imitation of Kunikuzushi’s stink eye. You think you got it on point, if the way he deflates is any indication.

He comes around the store every weekend, saying he’s here to get a little treat for the awful weekday he’s had. You never fail to remind him that he has class every Sunday, to which he responds by opening a can of beer (which he hasn’t paid for yet) and sitting on the counter, bemoaning the injustice of putting classes during the weekends.

You once asked him why he keeps hanging around this store when there’s a perfectly good bar right around the corner, owned by that popular red-haired business major from your university. Venti just laughed and said he prefers the quietness here — and the company, he added with a wag of his eyebrows. He always teases you, sometimes borderline flirting, but it’s easy enough to wave it away.

The day you discovered he was actually well known in campus was when your university hosted a local event. There’d been stalls and booths set up everywhere and even a little mock-stage put up near the center for any band or singer to perform in. It’d been nice to have a break from the monotonous routine of going to class and studying then working at your job and getting less than ideal sleep.

And then you heard your name booming out from the speakers, and you turn your head to see Venti on the stage with that little lyre he sometimes carries with him to the store, saying he’d like your opinion on a song or two he composed.

He dedicates the song to you in front of the entire student body, then proceeds to sing the cheesiest, most gut-wrenching and cringiest love song of all time.

“Why did you have to pick that song?”

“Because it’s fun and cute!”

“I sometimes question your ability to distinguish cute from horrifyingly monstrous.”

There’s a mortified look on your face, but amidst the embarrassment and the teasing remarks of his friends, there’s a smile on your face that you can’t bring yourself to wipe away.

i’ll be doing a part two on this but with diluc, dottore, kazuha, xiao, and zhongli!

@maehemthemisfit @sonder-paradise @96jnie @komiyaa @scaramouchenumber1fan @linn-a-a @wisteriaflowersss @ineriris @yesntforno @serramii @shadowmist0706 @jmgrule @imeanwatever @c00kie-cat @serramii @xtodorokismistressx @ieathairs @endlessmari @strawberryclumsy @serenity-ren-bliss @scarasbaby

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #albedo x reader #albedo kreideprinz x reader #alhaitham x reader #al haitham x reader #al-haitham x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #ajax x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #venti x reader #gn reader #modern au #fluffvember #fluffvember 2022

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marvelsswansong · 3 years ago

Text

total mystery

summary: The new mystery on the block isn’t a new supernatural entity or government scientists. But rather the fact that somehow, the preppy, popular, cheer co-captain and class president of Hawkins High is dating Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson: repeat senior and leader of the Hellfire Club.

tags: Eddie x fem!reader, everyone at Hawkins High (1) simps for you and (2) cannot believe their eyes and ears lol, pure fluff, typical opposites attract romance, Steve and Robin banter, Jason slander, humor, one OC named Carl, Eddie just being really goddamn in love to the point it's sickening

☆ word count: 3.8K+ ☆

a/n: the chokehold this man has over all of us... I get it now. Also I changed some stuff from the show to fit the story so please overlook any discrepancies!!! also i feel like i wrote too many kisses i'm sorry if that's annoying haha

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

“Did you hear?” Robin doesn’t even bother to greet Steve, seemingly out of breath and frazzled as she slides behind the counter of Family Video. Raising his eyebrow in confusion, Steve frowns and shakes his head sideways.

“Hear what?”

Robin grins mischeviously, looking side to side before leaning over to whisper.

“Apparently, (Y/n) (L/n) is dating Eddie Munson.”

Steve almost chokes on the can of diet coke he’s drinking, the carbonated liquid burning his throat as he coughs repeatedly to catch his breath. Robin looks way too amused for her own good, simply swinging her legs off of the counter as she adjusts her name tag onto her shirt. He has no idea how she can be so casual about it all, when Steve's eyes are almost bugging out of their sockets.

“THE (Y/n)? Like, co-captain of the cheer team, student president for two years in a row, only wears dresses and skirts to school every day (Y/n)?”

Robins rolls her eyes at her best friend’s dramatic reaction.

“Obviously. Do you know any other girls at Hawkins High with her exact name?”

Steve was suddenly grateful that today was a slow day - there was an eldery couple at the back looking through the historical fiction section and a young son and his mother lazily flicking through the new arrivals section, but otherwise the store was quite empty. Giving him a perfect excuse to press Robin for more information on this salacious rumor.

“Where did you even hear this?"

Robin shrugs, sliding off the counter to begin sorting through the cash register.

“Had to take a bus here and a group of juniors happened to be sitting in front of me. It’s all they could talk about for the entire twenty minute ride.”

Steve suppresses an eye roll at her response, turning sideways to glare at the busy brunette.

“Oh come on, then you CAN’T take the rumor seriously. People gossip all the time at Hawkins High! Most likely, someone saw them interacting in a very innocent manner - like running into each other in the hallway - and spun a romantic story out of it to fill their boredom.”

Robin clicks her tongue, shrugging her shoulders once more before closing the register and looking up at him with a sigh.

“Don’t shoot the messenger, Steve. It’s just what I heard. And…” she pauses, chuckling. “In a weird way, I can kind of see it happening.”

“You’re completely out of your mind, Buckley.” Steve counters, confident that she's wrong.

“Yeah? How much you willing to bet for it?” Robin has a gut feeling that she’s right, and she’ll never pass up a chance to (a) prove Steve Harrington wrong and (b) make some money from it. Luckily, Steve seems to take the bait, straightening up at her proposal.

“Please, I’m confident enough to bet you $20 out the gate.”

“$20?! You’re-”

Then as fate would have it, the front door swings open and you enter the store, your white tweed jacket and matching skirt a sore contrast to the bright blue and red neon color palette of the store. Clutching a small leather handbag over your left shoulder, you seem a bit lost on where to start, before you make your way over to the new arrivals section. Steve hasn’t really seen you since his graduation a year ago - he was always aware of you, and the two of you did share some mutual friends - but he’d never really taken the time to get to know you.

But now, staring at you from the counter, Steven wishes he had made the effort to at least befriend you. He's watching in awe as your perfectly manicured nails tap alongside the cover of a random action movie, your bright eyes squinting at the title before turning it over to examine another tape. The neon glow from the signs above seem to illuminate your face perfectly, exposing your soft blush and sticky lipgloss, your lips parting ever so slightly to sound out the movie titles.

“Oy.” Robin then elbows him on the side, causing Steve to wince in mock pain. “Stop ogling at her. I know she’s hot, but she’s taken, remember?”

Steve glares at her response, before rolling up his sleeves and stretching his neck.

“Yeah right. Anyways. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go help our new… customer.”

Robin attempts to stop him but now there’s a line of previous customers at the checkout counter, effectively pinning her to behind the cash register. But then she spots Eddie’s van pull up in the parking lot outside, and suddenly that didn't seem so bad. Oh, this was going to be so interesting for her to watch.

You’re stuck trying to decide between two movies - Footloose and Sixteen Candles - when Steve casually strolls up next to you, flipping on his boyish charm. You sense someone else’s presence behind you and turn around to see Steve Harrington, pointing at the two selections you’re holding with a smile on his face.

“They’re both really good picks, but I prefer Footloose. It’s the perfect mix of comedy and drama. Plus you can’t go wrong with Kevin Bacon dancing to rock music in a town where it’s illegal.”

His comment makes you giggle - a light, melodic sound that makes Steve's whole body buzz with warmth.

“Thanks, Steve. Good to see you here, I haven’t seen you around since-”

“Since graduation, yeah. You’re almost there too, huh?” he teases, and you shift nervously on your feet.

“Oh yeah, senior year and all! I can’t believe my four years are coming to an end. It feels like just yesterday that I was a freshman, starting out in Hawkins as the new kid with zero friends. I’m so glad I’m not a freshman anymore.” you laugh nervously.

“I’m glad you’re not a freshman anymore, either.” Steve offers, stepping closer to you.

“Why’s that?” you hum, amused. Steve's grin widens as he prepares his next sentence.

“Cause now that you’re no longer a freshman, I can ask you-”

But Steve doesn't get to finish his sentence when two strong arms suddenly wrap around your waist, accompanied by a voice whispering “boo” into your ears. You jump at the sudden contact and noise, before realization dawns on you and you turn around to face Eddie, a semi-frown etched on your face.

“You jerk! You almost gave me a heart attack.” you smack him in the chest with your bag lightly, causing him to double over in laughter.

“I’m sorry, princess. But you’re just too fun to tease.”

Princess.

Steve’s blood runs ice cold at the nickname, as his eyes do a double take at the sight of you two together. His gaze follows as Eddie wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you right up against him as the metalhead takes out one of the movies from your hands and inspects it in the light.

“Sixteen Candles, huh? I know I said you could pick the movie this time but you’re really killing me with these choices, angel.”

“Oh actually, Steve recommended Footloose so I think we should rent that one!” you excitedly respond, linking your fingers with his.

“Sounds good to me. Can we check this one out?” Eddie asks politely, as Steve blinks wordlessly for a few moments. He’s shell shocked, embarrassed and confused as he forces himself to nod, trodding up to the counter and practically shoving Robin to the side to scan the damn VHS.

“Hi Robin!” you greet the girl at the counter with a wide smile, as her eyes light up.

“You know who I am?”

“Of course I do! One of my big campaigns last year was to increase the budget for our school’s band. You're amazing, by the way."

The two of you engage in light dialogue, but it all falls on deaf ears for Steve. Quickly completing the transaction and giving Eddie a forced grin, he watches as Eddie links his fingers with yours again, walking you away from the counter.

“Oh, wait!” you pause in your tracks, turning around to look at Steve. “Steve, you wanted to ask me something?”

The silence in the store is almost painful, with you looking at Steve with such innocence and wonder, Robin (badly) stifling her laugh behind Steve, and Steve’s ears going pink with embarrassment.

“No, it’s uh, it’s nothing! It was about student government but I can just ask someone else in the committee.”

You frown at his response, concerned.

“Are you sure? You can ask me right now!”

God, Steve wishes there was a hole he could dive under right now because the embarrassment is becoming almost unbearable.

“Yeah I’m sure.”

You give him another dazzling smile, bidding him and Robin goodbye, before the door closes behind you and Eddie, your laughter ringing in Steve's ears as Eddie impatiently pulls you towards his car. Steve can basically feel Robin’s gaze burning into his back as he turns around, dejected and mortified. Robin opens her mouth to tease him, but Steve quickly holds his hand up to stop his best friend from speaking.

“I know, I know. That was pathetic.”

“And I was right.” Robin smugly adds. “About (Y/n) and Eddie.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Robin lets a few moments of silence pass before she pokes him on the side.

“So, about the $20….”

-------------------------------

“The two of them together? No fucking way.” Jason put out the lit cigarette dangling from his mouth as he leanged against the metal railings of the Starcourt Mall, glaring at his teammate, Carl, who had just said that he had seen you and Eddie making out behind the bleachers last Friday. “(Y/n) is like, one of the hottest girls in school. Why the hell would she settle for a freak like him?”

“Beats me, man. Maybe it was just a one time thing?” Carl weakly offers, shrugging his shoulders. Jason doesn’t seem very satisfied at his friend’s answer, craning his neck and looking over the side of the railings. The mall is as busy as it gets on a Saturday like today, with families, couples and friend groups pushing against each other from store to store.

“I’ll see it when I believe it.” Jason puffs out his chest in annoyance, his tone laced with a twinge of anger and animosity that intrigues Carl.

“You have something against her or something?”

As soon as the question leaves Carl’s mouth, he remembers - last week’s party, by Chrissy’s pool house. Jason had strolled up to you with a drink in hand before asking you out, which you had flat out declined in front of basically the whole basketball team. It seemed as if the memory is also suddenly in Jason’s mind as the blonde rolls his eyes and shoves past his friend, swearing under his breath.

“You know damn well I don’t. Just shut the fuck up, okay? Let's just get some food."

His tone is decisive and Carl knows better than to push the blonde's temper any further.

“Sure.”

The two of them don’t speak whilst walking towards the food court, the distant sound of muffled conversations and music from stores filling the air. Jason is taking his time to look around, comparing his options, when he hears your unmistakable laughter from the end of the hall. He tears his gaze away from the booth, only to see you perched on Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson’s lap, feeding him spoonfuls of ice cream as his ring clad fingers brush against your exposed knees.

The sight makes the jock feel sick with anger and jealousy, and suddenly he’s glad that the mall is bustling with people. Through the crowds and crowds of strangers, the two of you seem blissfully unaware of the star basketball player’s envious gaze, too caught up in each other’s presence to notice anything else but each other. Then you kiss Eddie’s cheek, whispering something in his ears before leaving the ice cream cup in his hands to walk off somewhere.

Ignoring Carl’s protests to just “leave them alone”, Jason finds himself strolling up to his enemy, Jason's steps forceful and hurried. Eddie’s smile falters ever so slightly when he looks up at who’s suddenly standing in front of him, before an amused smirk appears on his face.

“Jason. What a pleasant surprise. To what do I owe the honor, my good sir?” his voice is dripping with sarcasm and more than ever, Jason wants to smack the damn expression off of his face.

“Cut the shit, Munson. What the fuck are you doing with (Y/n)?” Jason aggressively questions.

“I was kissing her, duh.” Eddie responds as a matter-of-factedly, enjoying being able to tease the jock. It’s not often that Eddie has the true upper hand, actual power over someone like Jason - so he’s relishing in it now, watching the basketball player’s confident facade crumble like chalk as his chest heaves in angry breaths.

“I know that, jackass. I’m asking what the fuck you’re doing kissing HER.” the blonde presses, but Eddie simply leans back against the table nonchalantly, totally unbothered.

“She’s my girlfriend, buddy. What else would we be doing? Because if you’re worried that's all we do-” Eddie pauses, before leaning forward with a dangerous glint in his eyes. “No need. We do a lot more, if you get what I mean.”

Jason’s hands flare upwards to land a punch on Eddie's face but Carl beats the blonde to it, wrapping a hand on Jason’s wrist and tugging his friend backwards.

“He’s not worth it, dude. Besides, your mom said you’d be grounded if you got arrested for assault one more time.”

Jason stares straightforward at Eddie Munson with nothing but hatred in his heart, whilst the metalhead looks proud and relaxed, amused at how everything has played out. Shoving his teammate off, Jason straightens up, brushing his varsity jacket sleeves with his hands before pointing a finger in Eddie’s face.

“This is far from over, Munson.”

“Cool.”

Eddie’s more than aware that Jason is still staring at the two of you from across the dining hall, ignoring Carl’s attempts at conversation, and it’s what propels Eddie to do what he does when you return from the bathroom.

“I’m back!” you sing, sitting back down onto Eddie’s lap. You notice that Eddie's expression is now different, still sweet but something a bit sinister in his eyes, and it makes you tilt your head in confusion. “Anything happen while I’m gone?”

Eddie looks at your face, brushing your cheeks with his left hand, whilst his right hand rests on your upper thigh. He thanks whatever gods are up there that you’ve chosen to wear his favorite black dress today, cinched in at the waist with a belt, the fabric soft and the length just above your knees. Placing the ice cream to the side, he brings your face down for a hungry kiss, the taste of chocolate and raspberry still lingering on your lips. The knowledge that the smug blonde asshole - Jason Carver - is watching with seething jealousy across the hall makes it all the more satisfying when you eagerly return the kiss, Eddie’s left hand raising to pull you in closer by your neck.

After a few heated moments Eddie leans back and you let out a few breaths, frazzled and dazed at your boyfriend’s sudden affection.

“I’m definitely not complaining but… what was that for, Eds?”

Eddie decides not to give Jason the satisfaction of looking over at him, instead opting to lace his fingers with yours and gaze at you lovingly.

“Can’t I just kiss my beautiful girlfriend because I want to?”

-------------------------------

“And now, we have entered into the mystical lands of fa- Hello? Are any of you listening?” Eddie waves a hand in front of the freshmen boys' faces, noticing that their minds seem to be somewhere else. They sit there, unmoving, before Mike whispers something to Lucas, who in turn elbows Dustin.

“Right. Uh, we have a question for you. That's non D&D related.” he awkwardly starts to ask, causing Eddie to sigh.

“We’re in the middle of a campaign.” Eddie pouts, crossing his arms over his chest.

“We know, we know, but it’s important.” Dustin insists, and Eddie can’t help but comply: he does have a soft spot for these kids, after all.

“Alright then.” Eddie sits himself down on a spare plastic chair facing the kids. “What is it?”

A moment of silence passes before Dustin blurts out the question that's been plaguging his and his friends' minds for the past few days.

“Can you give us tips on how to pick up girls?”

The question makes Eddie laugh, his head thrown backwards as a loud laugh rips through his throat, before his smile is wiped off by the serious looks on the kids’ faces.

“Oh, you’re being serious? Seriously? Why the hell would you ask me of all people that?”

“Because we heard-” Mike starts, only to be shot a warning glare by Lucas that makes him shut up. That catches Eddie’s attention, pointing the end of his ruler to Mike.

“No. What is it? Speak.”

“We heard that you’re dating (Y/n). Like, cheer co-captain and class president (Y/n).”

The mention of your name makes his heart warm and it’s hard to fight off the smile from rising onto his face.

“You heard right, Wheeler.”

The boys’ eyes light up at the admission before they all start speaking at once, clearly excited.

“Wait, really? I thought it was just Hawkins gossip.” “I knew it! I called it beforehand, honestly.” “So that’s why we want to know how you did it!”

Raising his hands in mock surrender, Eddie shakes his head sideways at the freshmen boys’ antics.

“Look kiddos, I’m flattered that you’d want my advice on dating but I really don’t have much to tell you.”

Lucas groans at that.

“Oh, come on! There has to be something you said or did to land a girlfriend like (Y/n)! Tell us, please?”

The conversation is then interrupted by the sound of someone knocking at the door, before the door swings open to reveal you smiling sheepishly behind it. On your left hand you’re holding what looks to be Eddie’s beloved roleplaying notebook as you walk over and kiss Eddie on the cheek. You quickly realize that you’ve walked in on a fully active campaign, turning to look at three young freshman boys practically gawking at the sight of you being affectionate with Eddie.

“Oh. Hi there. I’m-”

“(Y/n) (L/n).” Dustin finishes for you, and you laugh. Eddie squints his eyes at the boys, clearly noticing the infatuation glazing over their eyes. It makes him pull you down onto his lap, resting his head on your shoulder as you laugh - you know that’s code for ‘I’m jealous, please give me attention.’

“That’s right. And you three must be-”

“Dustin.”

“Lucas.”

“Mike.”

The three of them seem to be really good friends, you note, almost in sync with the way they introduce themselves and fumble to straighten up their posture in your presence. It’s incredibly adorable, and you can easily see why Eddie is so protective and taken with them.

“Nice to meet you all. I’m so sorry for interrupting your game, I just noticed that Eddie left this behind in PreCalc and wanted to return it to him-”

“It’s fine, princess. Actually you have impeccable timing, because these three boys wanted to know how I managed to land myself a girl like you.” Eddie says, rubbing circles into your left palm.

You laugh at Eddie's comment, before you see that Dustin, Lucas and Mike have leaned over to hear your response, completely serious expression on their faces.

“Oh. You guys genuinely want to know?” you're surprised.

The young boys all nod empathetically, and you casually look over at your boyfriend, who is smiling down at you mischievously.

“Well go on, baby. Tell them how I won a girl like you over.”

“Okay. Um… Eddie didn’t really have to do anything to win me over. I fell for him because he's... him. He’s charming, kind and funny. He’s passionate about music and protecting his friends. He’s wholly and unapologetically himself in an environment that tries to sap any kind of authenticity from you. If anything, I don’t know how I was so lucky enough to land a boyfriend like Eddie.” you finish, looking back at the senior with a soft smile on your face. Eddie's secretly getting choked up at your kind words but masking it behind a boyish smirk, shifting you on his lap.

“Aw, all those nice things and you didn’t even mention my devilishly handsome looks!” he complains.

You roll your eyes at his antics before looking back at the three boys.

“Yes, that too. It helped that Eddie is a good looking man. There. You happy?”

Eddie swears he can see the whole universe in your eyes. He never wants to stop looking into them.

“With you? Always.”

The boys collectively groan in disgust when Eddie pulls you down for a swift kiss, with Lucas loudly yelling that he was going to throw up. Eddie tells them to shut up as you stifle a laugh, quickly getting up and re-adjusting the varsity jacket on your shoulder.

“I should get going. I slipped out of a student council meeting to come down here to give Eddie the notebook. Are we still on for tonight?” you ask Eddie, who nods in response.

“Of course.”

The room’s still masked in stunned silence when you wave the boys goodbye and disappear into the hallway, the rest of the D&D game long forgotten in their minds. Eddie waves his hands in front of their faces again, exasperated at their lack of focus.

“Oi, freshmen! Can we get back to the game now?”

-------------------------------

Eddie swears the only quiet moments with you in this bustling, nosy town is in his bedroom. You’re laying against his chest, your body laying between his legs as he gently attempts you teach you the first few notes of his new song. Your skirt’s bunched up to your thighs and your frilly socks are rubbing against his bare legs, your cute giggles escaping every so often when he compliments you on getting a note right by kissing your face.

The sun’s started to set, bathing the trailer in red and orange glow, and he swears you look practically angelic in this light. Hair frayed around your face, your lower teeth biting your lips in concentration, your delicate fingers thrumming lightly against the guitar. With every shift against Eddie, your cardigan falls down to expose your shoulder and Eddie resists the urge to mark you up right then and there.

Noticing that he’s stopped instructing you on what to do, you stop playing, looking up at him with curiosity.

“Is something wrong?”

God, Eddie thinks, the kids were right. He has no idea how he has landed someone like you.

“Everything’s perfect, princess. Just… a lot of thoughts are in my head at the moment.”

You frown at his response, setting the guitar to the side before pulling back to face Eddie.

“Is it about all the Hawkins students getting on your ass about us dating? I’m really sorry, I tried to do some gossip patrol today but people really like talking and drama and-”

“No, no, it’s fine.” he assures you, placing two warm hands on your face. “I get why people talk. I mean me, Eddie Munson. Freak of the school, best known for supposedly devil worshipping and not being able to pass senior year. Getting to kiss and hold hands with you, miss co-captain and class president? Of course people would wanna talk."

Your expression softens at his admission.

“Well… you know what they say, opposites attract.” you tease, leaning forward to kiss him lightly. This time, your lips taste like cherry - he figures you must’ve been applying cherry chapstick whilst he was in the bathroom a few minutes ago. He’s hungry for more, never satisfied with just one kiss as he pulls you back onto him once more.

“I guess they do.”

The entire school doesn’t understand how you two are dating. Eddie isn’t quite sure why either. But he’s more than happy to let it be a mystery - so long as he gets to continue to hold onto you like this.

-> a/n: I hope we get to see a lot more from him in the show in vol 2 and onwards! Anyways, I really hope y'all enjoyed it: please let me know if you did and if you'd like me to write more in this fandom by liking/commenting/reblogging and what not.

❤️ Drink water, nourish your body and be kind to yourself today ❤️

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