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arminsumi · 7 months

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Sleepyhead — 五夏

NOTE: idk if writing this made me sadder or was therapeutic either way let's cry together :')

SUMMARY — During your youth, you, Geto and Gojo made a magic charm that would reconnect the three of you in a different reality one day by a golden silk thread.

WARNINGS — not proofread, "just a dream" trope but really u just shifted realities and forgot your other life, angst, implied death / crossing over, based on the latest chapter bc i'm in pain and when i'm in pain i write 👍 sooo just in case: jjk manga spoilers (major char death, chapter 236)

Gojo caressed your cheek and muttered " You're such a pretty crier, but don't cry for me. Sh, I'm right here, baby, I'm right here. ", keeping his other hand intertwined with yours.

. . .

Your two eyes blinking out of a dream, coming back to reality. Or was it the other way around? Maybe you were awaking into a lucid dream.

At first it's a white space. A void. There's nothing but neutrality and emptiness. Then a golden silk thread is sewn across your chest. It leads down a corridor of white, one that stretches so far it almost feels like you're taking an infinite walk.

There's a door at the end, you open it. And all there is behind it is your old classroom, just as it was. There's Gojo Satoru, smiling that wide toothy smile like nothing in the world is wrong. And there's Geto Suguru, shaking his head and sighing a laugh over his best friend's ridiculousness. And there's Shoko Ieiri, peering over her folded arms as she rests her chin on the desk sleepily.

Walking obliviously into this memory while the real world continues on outside, you completely detach from reality and cross over. Why is it this memory ? It was such an ordinary day.

But it wasn't an ordinary day, you're mistaken; that day you wove a golden silk thread and imbued it with something, magic is a good word but no — it was an otherworldly "magic", something that's not sorcery.

You drift through this classroom memory, Gojo says hello and Geto smiles. Before you realize, you're floating past the exit door and enter another room — another memory.

It's then that you realize you're just drifting along the silk thread, hopping across each memory that you wove into it; their purpose to carry you over into another reality entirely.

More memories. More. And then some more. You're travelling through them, looking at them as if through a dream lens, half-detached, in a state of limbo. Not between life and death, but between realities where you're alive.

Maybe it was cruel.

The three of you leaving the world behind, shifting into different realities at your death, just so you could be happy and peaceful.

Final memories roll by, and you shift over; and in an instant, that whole journey seeps out of your mind.

You wake up just like any other day. Nothing is out of the ordinary. Gojo is crushing you with his weight, forcing you to blink awake and mumble groggily.

That was a long dream.

" Wakey wakey, sleepyhead — full body attack ! Okay, seriously, wake up. I want breakfast and I can't eat it unless you're with me. You know that. Why are you crying ? Did you have a nightmare ? Oh really ? What was it about ? "

Gojo follows you like a puppy throughout your morning routine. Though really, it feels like a mourning routine this time. Your chest feels so heavy, and you keep hugging him as if you haven't seen him in years.

" Hey, Suguru listen to Y/n's fucked up dream. It's insane, like a manga plot or some shit. Wish I had dreams of that. You should write it. "

" Oh ? Do tell. I'm curious. Aw, why the hug ? Y/n ? You okay ? Come on, let's make some pancakes. "

You watch the two of them in this ordinary habitat; Gojo lazing at the kitchen doorframe, talking about the awful ending to his favorite story.

" Y/n, you're zoning out. "

" Are you crying ?! "

" Sorry. I just missed you guys. I don't know why. "

" But we saw each other yesterday. We spent the whole night together. It was my birthday. "

" Yeah, and that's what's freaky; I feel like I just travelled for years. It feels surreal to look at the two of you. "

" Don't cry, come here. Satoru, take care of the pancake it's gonna burn. Y/n, wanna talk about it ? "

" No, I just want to hug you two. "

" GROUP HUG. "

" Satoru you're suffocating her. "

" Good group hugs are suffocating ! "

You stay with them in a long group hug. Everything feels alright.

" . . . the pancake is burning."

Suguru tends to it.

Satoru looks at you. " Cryin' ? Still ? Come here. You're so sensitive. "

He engulfs you in a hug again. Warm, soft, nice-smelling; this is definitely your ordinary reality. What a bizarre dream, though. Truly a bizarre dream.

" So how'd I die in your dream ? " he asks curiously.

" I don't want to talk about it. I just want to cry. " you choke, crying more into his chest. Suguru scolds him from the stove, while he scrapes burnt pancake batter off the pan.

Satoru looks down at you, cupping your one cheek, and says something that you swear you've heard before.

" Such a pretty crier. But don't cry for me. Sh, I'm right here, baby, I'm right here. "

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

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tsimvkas · 2 months

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camera roll — trent alexander-arnold

A/N: this is based on this video of tottenham bc i wish lfc would give us this type of content

“Good morning Mo, could you show me the last pic on your camera roll?” you smiled, your work phone already recording. Mohamed Salah took his phone out of his pocket and after a few seconds showed the screen to your camera, a beautiful picture of his wife and daughters having fun.

“I took it yesterday” he said, smiling. “We were watching Saturday’s goal on repeat”

You chuckled, thinking of how much you love your job. Being LFC’s social media was a dream coming true, seeing your favourite players every day, attending every game with them and always thinking about funny stuff to bring them to do.

Of course, some of them didn’t like you that much — not because of who you are, but because of what you represent. The shy ones always try to avoid you when you have a phone on your hand, which is basically always. But during breakfast and lunch, times of the day where you refuse to bring your phone with you, they always sit and have a chat, and that’s how you know they like you — they just hate your job.

One of your favourite players, Trent, certainly hates your phone.

He doesn’t like being photographed that much, or having to answer one of the trends you always come up with and he tries his best not to be rude with you, but even when you’re not using your phone he still keeps his distance, and you wonder if it’s not only your phone he hates.

Trent is a pretty boy, and you wish he would sit and talk to you like the others. Often you catch yourself looking at him, wanting to know him more, wanting him around.

And you feel silly, having a crush on the only guy that runs away from you every time.

That day, after a list of players and their last pictures (Alisson with a picture of his son, Tsimikas with both of his dogs, Dominik with a selfie, of course, and Ibou with a screenshot of a joke he saw before coming to work), you finally spotted him.

He was looking cosy, as always, baggy trousers and a hoodie, and you felt your

Robbo was with him, laughing and throwing his head back. When Trent saw you, he tried to discreetly avoid your camera and let Robertson deal with you.

“Wow, he must hate me” you tried to joke, pointing your phone to Andy. “Can I see the last pic in your camera roll, Rob?”

Andy Robertson likes you very much. He feels this paternal duty, always looking out for you and making sure you’re alright, and you think he and Virgil feel like they’re your parents. That’s why he doesn’t answer you, shouting Trent instead.

“Alexander-Arnold. Come here, right now”

Trent gives him a flat look and you know how much he doesn’t want to come.

“Andy, please. I just need your answer so I can finish it and upload, it’s not a big deal” you smiled.

“Trent, if you don’t then you’ll be in trouble” “Your captain won’t like to know you’re treating the media girl this way”

“I didn’t do anything” he gasped, but obeyed and walked back.

“Repeat the question, Y/N” Robertson encouraged you, already picking up his phone.

“Can you show me the last picture in your camera roll?”

“I can’t” Trent shook his head, looking almost ashamed.

“Trent” Andy groaned, giving you an apologetic smile.

Snorting, Trent grabbed his phone against his will. Robertson showed his picture, the one he took from Trent pulling a funny face on their way to AXA, and Alexander quickly showed you his screen, a zoomed in image of his shoes, the pair he was wearing.

“You just took it” Andy frowned after looking at it, reaching for Tren’s hand. “Give me your phone”

“Robbo, no!” Trent giggled, trying to put his phone higher.

They had a playful fight and you recorded it a bit, before shutting down your phone.

“Thank you boys, you’re good to go” you smiled, heading to your office so you could edit and upload the video.

When the training session ended hours later, Trent looked for you in the media room.

“I’m sorry I tried to sneak out this morning” he suddenly said, scaring you.

“Oh my God, you scared me” you placed a hand over your heart, trying to calm down. “It’s okay, Trent”

“No, it wasn’t nice of me. You’re just trying to work”

“It’s okay. We all know you’re reserved, I’ll try not to bother you too much” you genuinely smiled.

“No, it’s not that. I can deal with cameras, you know” he sighed, playing with his fingers. “I just can’t deal with you”

You raised an eyebrow, not knowing how to answer this. “Oh- wow”

“No! No, not like that. Jesus, see? You make me so nervous I keep switching things. Every time you point your camera at me I get so afraid I might say something stupid or embarrassing ‘cos you keep distracting me and this morning Dominik texted me and said that you were asking about our last camera roll picture and I freaked out because my last picture was you so I thought ‘oh I can just delete it’ but Robertson wouldn’t take his eyes out of me for whatever reason then I tried to go by you unnoticed but this clearly didn’t work”

The way he was desperately gesticulating made you smile.

“You should take a breath, Trent” you smiled. “I’d hate for you to pass out when I don’t have my camera with me”

“Stop making fun of me” he groaned. “I’m trying to tell you something”

“I'm listening”

At first, Trent stayed silent for almost a minute and you could see he was trying to find the words.

“Fuck, I don’t know how to do this” he whined, running his hands through his hair, and it made you giggle.

You walked towards him, pulling him closer by his shirt. “Do what?”

You smiled when his breath hitched on his throat and Trent mustered up the courage to caress your cheek.

“Ask you on a date? Tell you I wanna kiss you?”

“You can kiss me if you want” you shrugged, trying to play it cool. “But the date will cost you a few more smiles to my camera, yeah?”

“Yeah?” he smirked, suddenly feeling like the confident Trent and grabbing your thighs so he could put you on top of the office table. “How much else for a second date?”

You laughed, amused with the way his mood switched. “You didn’t even take me out on the first one, Trentski”

“But I’m sure there’ll be a second. And a third, and a fourth” he distributed kisses along your jail line, making you giggle even harder.

“You talk too much when you want to, Alexander-Arnold”

“Well, there’s a way to make me shut” he gave you a lazy smile, settling between your legs.

He didn’t stop you when you cupped his face and he didn’t stop you when you kissed the corner of his mouth, anticipating the moment.

You smiled when he licked his lips, remembering he told you that you make him nervous. Brushing his lips with yours, you felt goosebumps when Trent squeezed your thighs.

“Please, Y/N…”

“I thought you wanted to kiss me?” you teased, raising an eyebrow but Trent just squeezed your thigh and smirked.

“I’ve changed my mind, I want you to kiss me”

“This will cost you lots of smiles to my camera, Arnold” you murmured, not giving him time to answer before kissing his lips gently.

Trent bit your lower lip, shyly asking you for permission to invade your mouth with his tongue, but before you could allow him to do it a loud sound scared you both, and you looked around just to see that the door had opened and Mo, Virgil, Robbo, Darwin and Dominik had fell inside the media room.

“Well, it was about time” Virgil shrugged, making you chuckle whilst a shy Trent hid his face on your neck.

#✧･ﾟ: *✧ tsimvkas — works #trent alexander x reader #trent alexander x you #trent alexander fanfic #trent alexander imagines #trent alexander arnold

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itsphoenix0724 · 14 days

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I love your fics. Could you do an Azriel x Reader fic based on the song Hate Me by Blue October? It could lend itself to a great premise. The song didn't have a happy ending so I think the fic wouldn't need to either. I think it could be that Reader and Azriel were together (not mates) and Az did something to cause the Reader pain. And I feel like the fic could be vignettes of the IC spending time together and Reader ignoring him. Maybe even it could end with Reader finding someone new and moving on. If you like the idea, thanks in advance!

Hate Me (Azriel x Reader)

Warnings: Angst, no happy ending

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Hi lovely! Thank you so much for your request. I love me a good angst fic lol. I tried a different formatting for this, so we'll see how you guys feel about it! I hope you enjoy, please feel free to visit my page anytime <3

If you’re sleeping, are you dreaming? If you’re dreaming are you dreaming of me?

Azriel bolts upright in bed, chest heaving with shaking breaths that he can’t keep in. His hand instinctively reaches out to your side of the bed, but it meets nothing but cotton, fabric slipping through his fingers like water. You had been there, for a few blissful moments, holding him as you always had when the nightmares roused him from sleep. Now he was alone, and no one was at fault for it but himself.

I had to block out thoughts of you so I don’t lose my head. They crawl in like a cockroach, leaving babies in my bed

He may have hated himself for it but he tried to find comfort elsewhere, when he wasn’t working he was in the slums of Vlearis, drinking himself to the point of blacking out. He needed to forget your face, your voice, your smell. He couldn’t stand to be in the house the two of you had shared, not when your phantom was constantly haunting the halls, chasing him down at every turn. He thinks of you barefoot, singing and padding around the kitchen in nothing but your nightgown, and orders another shot.

And will you never say that you loved me just to put it in my face? And will you never try to reach me? It is I that wanted space.

Azriel wanted you to yell at him, he wanted you to scream your rage so hard that the mountains rumbled. He could have taken that, he wanted it even. But what he couldn’t take is your indifference. Family dinners at the River House were mandatory, and Azriel tried to attend as few of them as possible. Mainly because you were always there. You had every right to attend, and you were always pleasant to him. Sending him tight-lipped smiles and polite nods, even passing him the potatoes at dinner. It was like looking in a warped mirror, a portrait someone had poured water over. His former happiness was nothing but running paint.

Hate me today, Hate me tomorrow. Hate me for all the things I didn’t do for you.

“Another mission?” You questioned from the doorway as Azriel was shoving things into a pack. “But you just got back yesterday?” Azriel sighed deeply, buckling the pack shut and hauling it over his shoulder. “I know, I’m sorry but this is a serious matter.” His shoulders were tense, the dark circles under his eyes still prominent from not resting. “How long will you be gone?” Your brows furrow. “A week at least,” came his tense reply. You were quiet for a moment, and the tension that filled the room could be cut with a knife. “You’ll miss our anniversary, can’t they send someone else?” Your broken tone hurt his heart, but he persisted. “Rhys needs this done urgently.” He pressed, fastening the straps of his leathers. “Rhys would never miss his and Feyre’s anniversary.” You snapped, the annoyance finally wearing on you. “Well Rhys and Feyre are mates,” Azriel bit back and immediately regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. You took a step back, the betrayal shining clear on your features. “Fine then, enjoy your mission.” You left his study, and he could hear the bedroom door slamming behind you. He should’ve gone after you, he should’ve gone upstairs and begged for your forgiveness, but he left. And he would regret that decision for the rest of his life.

While I was busy waging wars on myself, you were trying to stop the fight. You never doubted my warped opinions on things like suicide and hate. You made me compliment myself when it was way too hard to take

He returned from the mission and your things were gone. No trace was left of you in the apartment you once shared except for a letter on the kitchen table. Even in your goodbye, you weren’t angry, it was like you knew that this was coming for a while, but he was completely blindsided. He could still recite the letter back from memory. Azriel read it repeatedly, it was still in the back of a drawer in his office, unable to bear getting rid of it. “Dear Azriel, I’m sorry to leave you like this, however, I know that if I were to try in person I would fail. Please know I still love you, a part of my heart will always be yours to possess, but I cannot continue a relationship with a ghost. I need you to know a few things. Please don’t hate yourself for this, you tried your best but you are too obsessed with your work. I wish you could see that your family values you as a person and not for your abilities. No one would’ve loved you less if you had taken a day off, but I understand your battles. Another thing, do not try to follow me. I am taking some time, to find myself and heal, I hope you will do me this favor and respect that. I hope one day we can be friends. I’m sorry.” Your name signed at the bottom felt like a brand stamped into his heart, the fact that you felt the need to apologize to him twisted the knife even further. True to his word, he respected your boundaries, and when you finally returned to the Night Court everything was different. You seemed to glow again and laugh again, and Az realized just how much of a shell you had become at the end of your relationship.

And with a sad heart, I say bye to you and wave. Kicking shadows on the street for every mistake that I had made.

It was bittersweet for Azriel when you finally brought home your new partner. A male you met in Dawn on an emissary trip. The rest of the inner circle warmed to him quickly, as much as it pained Az to admit he was a good male. Theon made you blush, and laugh and was completely devoted to you. He gave you everything Azriel himself could not and he was happy for you. When it came time for Azriel to introduce himself, he glanced once at you running your teeth between your bottom lip with worry, and decided he would no longer be a barrier to your happiness. So, he did his best to smile and shook the male's hand to introduce himself. You were happy, that was all that mattered to him.

Hate me in ways, yeah, ways hard to swallow. Hate me so you can finally see what’s good for you

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf fanfiction #acotar imagine #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #acosf #azriel angst #azriel x you

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i-am-vita · 5 months

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OPLA hot older guys headcanons

Yesterday was the longest working day I've had in a while and my brain decided to affect my concentration and performance by hyperfixated in one thing only: THE AMOUNT OF HOT OLDER GUYS IN OPLA.

(The highlight of the day being @fanaticsnail based her new Mihawk fic on the dream I had the other day. I can´t still thank you enough! ToT)

So now my brain won't let me live in peace without getting these reader-headcanons into the internet in a kind of kill, marry, kiss way but instead we kiss all of them at one point of our life.

👉 Masterlist, More here.

Warning: mention of sex, drinking and general horny thoughts (?) Probably very bad written since english is not my first language XD

So you, my gentle readers, are a semiretired white collar thief, former first mate of the misterious Phantom Pirates, who had to go into hidding to take care of your little niece after your older sister and her marine husband died in a shipwreck 8 years ago.

You're pretty set in giving your niece a comfortable and peacefull life, like her parents had, but she may have other ideas and be more like yourself than her own mother, because at 18yo she escaped home while you was visiting a neighbour island for business.

Now you're on full mama goose mode, searching for your duckling for the East Blue. And may reaquaint with some interesting men of your past.

Lets get a look at them ;)

Mihawk

Current (VERY) interested. Doesn't know if he wants to behead you or fuck you.

You met during a heist at a marine's party going very bad a year ago. Your crew weren't aware of his attendance to the party (the man hardly attends his own warlord reunions), so you had to make a last minute distraction or you would've been discovered. So distracting Dracule Mihawk by heavy flirting with him and stealing his golden cross-knife was the best you could came up with.

You're an excellent knife wielder but your price habilities are in the infiltrate area so slipping away is kind of your thing. Nobody can keep up with you. Except a very pissed off warlord.

After an action packed chase, filled with you getting under his skin and him almost getting you more times than you're comfortable remembering, you considered it was enough time for the crew to had escape the party, so you released his cross and got the hell out of there leaving a very crossed (hah) Mihawk.

Since you semiretired 8ya, you pulled a job with your old crew from time to time and just if it was a very big score, but your reputation precedes you, and Mihawk managed to connect you with the infamous Phantom Pirates with many other thefts along the Grand Line and even inside Marine Bases in all the Blues.

The thing about the Phantom Pirates is that nobody knows who they are or how they look like. Your captain just known as a white masked man, no name but "Captain of the Phantom Pirates" 150,000,000. Your own wanted posters without photo but a ? and the epitet "The Ghost Rose" 80,000,000. Until now. Mihawk saw enough of you to recognize you if he sees you again but decides against informing the government.

You're his to find and deal with ;)

Kuro

The controlling and toxic angry ex we all should have for drama.

You met during your golden years as a first officer of the Phantoms, your crew and his having a brief alliance to work together several times.

You thought you were perfect for each other, both loving your plans and having similar habilities with knives and speed, but his controlling, manipulating, perfectionist and literal bloody tendencies sour the deal pretty soon.

He didn't see you as an equal but another pawn for his plans, apparently the only one good enough by his standards, but still a pawn. So you dumped his presumptuous ass and sailed away to never see each other again.

You didn't feel a little sorry after hearing of his passing.

Now you have tracked your niece to Syrup Village, the home of some old friends of her parents and whose daughter, Kaya, had keep in contact with through the years but haven't seen since before her own parents passed away.

There you came to know that indeed your niece arrived the day prior just in time for her friend's 18th birthday and, after a very eventfull night, she sailed away with a group of Kaya's new friends and saviors that same morning in a new vessel with a ram's head.

The fact they got acquainted with Kuro himself, who turned to be alive and posing as Kaya's buttler for 3 years, paled in comparison to discover this little group has a boy captain set to sail the Grand Line to find the One Piece. And if the witness of the shipyard got it right, already has a big ass marine ship tailing them.

Judging by their route, they were heading to the Sambas Region and there's only one place to dock there...

Bogard

The what-migh-have-been if he wasn't such a workaholic and you hadn't run away from home.

You met back in your previous life when you were a young debutante set by your parents to settle with a respectable marine husband, like your big sister.

He was just promoted to Garp's right hand despite his youth. Being one of the youngest officers with a promising career.

You were indeed charmed by him, but found yourself suffocating by the idea of a future like your sister's. Even after he confessed his plans of sailing the world and not being opposed to his future wife to be a marine too with him.

You did wanted a life of adventure and liberty, but not as a marine. You rejected his proposal and dissapeared days after. Your family came up with the story of you leaving to be an artist and study with the masters in the continent.

Truly nobody had a clue of you for years until you showed up after hearing of your sister's death to take care of your niece, looking like a well put together and wealthy art dealer.

Shanks

The one you ran away with to a life of piracy.

Days after rejecting Bogard and be sent by your parents to some "vacation" to think better of your life choices, you went to hide from your chaperones in a shaddy bar, full of young confidence that you could deal with it.

Plot twist: you did not. You found yourself in the universal female experience of dealing with guys not accepting a no for an answer and had to be rescued by a charming redhead in a straw hat whom you ran away with that same night after you both stole everything you could from those assholes ship and your chaperone's.

After burning out the initial passion, you and Shanks decided that maybe were better as friends, but still sailed together for a while, you learning everything about pirate life from him until you crossed paths with the Phantom Pirates. Captain Erik, being really impressed by you and your knowledge of the upper society, offered you a place in his crew, which you accepted, and kept training you.

Shanks and you remained good friends over the years, even assisting to his legendary drink parties from time to time. Your crew never having any reason to being enemies and even helping his if they needed intel on something.

Didn't expect to be precisely him to give you "parental advice" after you went looking for him when hearing he was in a nearby island, now minus an arm, and confessed you were semi-retired with a child to take care.

No, the child wasn't from him! Why would his crew would thing that?

Buggy

IT-WAS-JUST-ONE-TIME!!!!

But your stupid crew'd never let you live down that.

Surprinsingly, your Captain Erik and Captain Buggy turned to be very good friends. Both with a flair for dramatics and love for certain aesthetics, but yours being happy with working in the shadows, which suited Buggy perfectly.

Every time your crews crossed paths, it was a full carnival for days. And it was in one of those that it happened.

Even if you like and hold very well your alcohol, that time you were really wasted, having just broke up with Kuro. There was no way you'd had jump the clown's bones otherwise. You had standards!

But who'd have thought that the mad jester was such a charmer while drunk? Whispering dirty while still sweet poetry to your ears. Had his eyes always been so pretty? And those arms looked like they might hold you up without effort...

You woke up in his tent with the worst hangover of your life, naked and with a surprinsingly good recollection of the night before.

Of course you took your clothes and ran away to hide in your quarters for the rest of the day.

Fortunately, Buggy hadn't such a detailed memory of the night prior and assumed he passed it with one of the hired women from the local brothel whom the crew invited to the party.

But of course, your captain saw you leaving Buggy's tent and wouldn't stop teasing you for the rest of your life.

That's it, my gentle readers. The headcanons for today and I'm already regreting it because my head is full of more ideas than ever and my job performance so down that I'm considering just dig its grave XD

👉 More here.

#one piece #one piece live action #opla #opla x reader #opla buggy #opla mihawk #opla kuro #opla bogart #opla shanks #x reader #reader insert #fem reader

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queer-in-a-cornfield · 8 days

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Some of us on the discord were discussing what Dewey would be like as an adult yesterday, prompting this little fic (1325 words) based on my hc that Dewey would become a stage actor

Dewey walks down the busy streets of New York, humming some vocal warmups. While he appears as calm and collected as he ever does, his mind is racing a mile a minute.

Today was his Broadway debut, and he was equal parts excited and nervous. He’d done many a show in the past but those were different. This was BROADWAY, the gold standard of theatre. Sure, this wasn’t a principal role or anything, he was just replacing a departing ensemble member, but still! A Broadway debut is a Broadway debut. It’s a big day, and he’s freaking out a little.

He rounds the corner of the theatre and opens the stage door, making a pit stop to check in for the day and readjust his bag. He nearly drops his coffee but manages to set it down to adjust his grip before continuing on to his dressing room.

He swings the door open and finds that Rico and Alex, the castmates who share the room with him had already arrived.

“Hey, guys!” Dewey says as he walks over to his designated area. He pauses suddenly before he can put his things down. “What’s all this?”

Surrounding his mirror were a pair of blue balloons, some confetti, and a handwritten banner on top that read “Congrats on your debut!”

Rico speaks up, “It’s your first show tonight, Dewey! If that isn’t cause for celebration I don’t know what is.” Alex nods in agreement.

“Aw, thanks guys,” Dewey smiles, clearing away some of the confetti to put down his bag.

“So how’re you feeling? Ready to show the world what you’re made of?” Alex asks.

“Yeah, I’m really excited, I’ve been dreaming about this for years,” he says, pulling out his notes to review once he finishes warming up.

He spends the next few minutes stretching, uncharacteristically quiet, before sighing and asking, “Guys, you’ve both done this for a while, so… how did you get over the nerves? It still feels insane that I’m even here, and I’m really worried that something’ll go wrong and ruin my chances of continuing here.”

Rico sighs, “I’m not gonna lie, that fear just takes time to get over. But trust me, you’re gonna do great tonight, and soon enough you won’t be so anxious anymore.”

The trio sit in silence for a moment before Alex pipes up, “Didn’t you mention that one of your brothers had a history with anxiety? Maybe he’ll have some advice for you.”

Dewey nods, then grabs his phone from his pocket, pulls up Huey’s contact, and starts a video call.

“Hey Dewey, what’s up?” Huey’s voice picks up through the phone speakers.

“Hi, Hubert. Did you guys just land or something?” Dewey asks, noticing Huey’s surroundings.

“Yeah, we just landed, oh… fifteen minutes ago? We just got to baggage claim- sorry, one sec,” he says, turning to talk to someone off-screen.

Suddenly Uncle Scrooge appears on screen. “Dewey, lad! Can- can ya see me- how does this thing- curse me kilts, what did Ah just-“ Scrooge says as he confusedly fiddles with the phone.

“Uncle Scrooge, I’ll hold the phone for you,” Huey interjects as he grabs his phone back and centers them both on screen.

“So why’d you want to talk to me, Dew?” Huey asks.

Dewey pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts before explaining. But he pauses a moment too long because more faces suddenly attempt to crowd into the view of Huey’s phone camera, all trying to greet him at once. Dewey snickers a little watching Uncle Donald, the last one to get back from claiming their baggage, trying to squeeze into view with little success.

“Hey guys,” Dewey says. “I love you all, but if I could maybe just talk to Huey for a second? I’ll see you guys tonight.”

Reluctantly the rest of the group backs out of frame, leaving once again only Huey.

Sighing amusedly, Huey asks, “Okay, so what did you want me for, Dew?”

“Okay, so, like, I was wondering, basically, like-,” Dewey pauses for a second. “How do you handle your anxiety? Cause I’m kinda freaking out a little right now.”

Huey thinks for a moment. “Well, different things work for different people, but whenever my nerves are getting to me I usually like to take some deep breaths, or you could do the 5-4-3-2-1 exercise, ummm… yeah, I’d say those are my go-to's. I’d also say that drinking coffee wouldn’t help with nerves at all but I don’t think you’d listen to that one, so…”

Dewey laughs, “Thanks, Huey.”

“Of course, Dew. And also remember, we’re all gonna be there cheering for yo-,” Huey gets cut off by a nearby thud, which he turns to look at.

“Uncle Donald’s suitcase just broke,” Huey explains, walking over to help. “You’re gonna do great tonight and we can’t wait to see you after the show! Break a leg!” Huey signs off.

“Bye Huey, see you guys later,” Dewey replies, ending the call.

“Man, it’s still so weird to me that the richest duck in the world is your uncle,” Alex says.

“I don’t know if that’s more surprising or the fact that he doesn’t have a private plane to get here on,” Rico adds.

“Well, we do have a plane but the pilot can’t make it out here until next week. Aaaaand I’m realizing how much of a spoiled rich kid I sound like right now,” Dewey starts laughing again.

“Nah, if you want a really spoiled rich kid that would be more of a… what’s his name? That creep who got all his money from his grandmeemawmaw or whatever?” Alex retorts.

“Doofus Drake?” Rico supplies.

“Yes, him!”

“Oh, you guys don’t even know the half of it,” Dewey exclaims, getting back into his stretching.

——————————————————————-

Dewey opens up the stage door to exit the building. It was dark out now. He was one of the earlier cast members out of the doors, so there was a pretty good-sized crowd greeting him. As he worms his way through them, some congratulate him for making his Broadway debut, and one woman even asks for a picture, which catches him slightly off guard.

Eventually, he makes his way past the main crowd where he is finally greeted by his family, who all promptly give him a bear hug.

“Dewey!!! That was amazing!” Webby exclaims once they all pull away.

“I knew you’d do great,” Huey concurs, grinning.

“Theatre has never been my thing, so believe me when I say that that absolutely blew me away,” Louie adds.

“I’m so proud of ye, lad,” Scrooge says. “Ye’ve done well for yerself.”

Uncle Donald, at a loss for words, smiles and gives him another bear hug.

Della then pries Donald off of him to give him her own hug.

“You boys never cease to make me proud,” she says as she lets him go.

“Aw, you guys,” Dewey says, laughing a little. “You’re gonna get me emotional.”

“We’ve all been emotional since you came on stage, it’s your turn now,” Huey jokes.

Dewey laughs, “Okay, that’s fair.”

“Not to interrupt a nice family moment, but would you guys like a picture?” Rico says suddenly from behind Dewey, startling him.

“Oh my god, Rico! You can’t scare me like that!”

Dewey recollects himself and turns back to face his family.

“Guys, this is Rico, one of my castmates. Fam, Rico, Rico, fam. And yeah, I think we’d like a picture.”

An obscene amount of pictures later, everyone has their phones back with significantly less storage space than before.

“Thanks, Rico!” Dewey calls out as his castmate departs.

“See you tomorrow,” he yells back.

“Well,” Della says. “I think it’s time for some celebration! What time were those reservations for, Uncle Scrooge?”

“… In ten minutes.”

“Oh. Well, let’s get going then!” She exclaims, prompting the group to hurry off to this restaurant, dragging a confused but happy Dewey along with them.

#this does not have a name yet but the Google doc is called Broa-Dew-ay #because puns #wrote 80% of this on five hours of sleep and the other 20% on 4 hours #ducktales 2017 #ducktales #dewey duck #ducktales fanfiction #also bonus fun fact I named Dewey’s castmates after two of my friends from choir

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r4zberrygirl · 11 months

Text

Checkmate, I couldn’t lose

akaashi keiji x gn reader, collegeAU, fluff, 1k

cw: suggestive but like barely

an: my first actual post for this blog! sorry if this is bad lol no pronouns and no physical description of reader :) -raz

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Mastermind

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯

Midterm exams were right on top of you at this point and the only cafe within comfortable walking distance, that also happened to have the best mocha lattes you’ve ever tasted, just closed for remodeling. You sank further into your chair inside the cramped library on the corner and holding your bitter homemade coffee, decided your week could not get any worse. Sighing and leaning over your laptop you glance upwards and your heart stops. You try to avoid your staring being too obvious but the stranger standing in front of a shelf labeled ‘classics', seemed to be the most breathtaking person on earth. He looked tired and held a coffee, but his black curly hair and jade eyes made you stare for probably longer than you should’ve. Breaking out of your stupor, you determine that if there's one thing you can do to make your week of midterms less shitty, it's getting this hot guy’s number. You stand from your chair and pretend to look through the shelves at his back, even tilting your head and running your finger along the spines to really sell the act. You take a silent breath, a measured step back, and bump into him. He turns to steady you in surprise. “Are you alright?” he asks, pushing his glasses up and looking into your eyes with concern.

“Yes I'm so sorry! I was just looking for Shakespeare’s work!” The lie rolls off your tongue like you had been planning it, which of course, you had.

“I think his works are right here actually. What are you looking for?”

“Hamlet.” Luckily your lie from earlier was mostly based in truth as you really were struggling in your literature course right now. “I wasn’t paying good enough attention in class and now I’m stuck trying to study for this midterm,” you said, sounding slightly guilty.

His eyes glow a little as he speaks, “Oh! I'm actually an English major. I took that class last semester. Professor Kimura, right?”

You release a sigh of relief because your plan of getting this hot guy's number might actually benefit you in more ways than one. “Yes!”

“I can try to help if you want. I don't have any of my stuff from that class right now, but maybe we can meet up tomorrow?” He says with a soft smile.

You smile and put your hands together, “Yes please! That would be incredible! I’m ____ ____ by the way!”

“I’m Akaashi Keiji.” He holds out his hand and motions towards your phone. You hand it to him excitedly and he makes a contact for himself. “Text me later so we can pick a time and we’ll meet here if that works for you.”

“That works perfectly for me,” you respond. This felt like a dream, maybe this week isn’t so cursed after all. He grabs a book off the shelf behind you and puts it in your hands, “And I think this is what you were looking for.” He turns and walks away but not before flashing you a smirk. Your gaze falls to the book in your hands and you chuckle. Hamlet.

You agree to meet tomorrow at 9 in order to start the day off strong and be productive. That night you go to sleep with a smile and wake to your alarm blaring in your ears. You sit up and rub your eyes. It's brighter than usual at this time and you reach for your phone off the nightstand. You overslept. You must’ve hit snooze on your first alarm not realizing it and now you’re gonna be late. You get dressed and brush your teeth as quickly as you can before grabbing your bag and an apple and getting out the door. You deem coffee as unnecessary, you can live without it for one day.

Akaashi meets your gaze through the window, somehow just as gorgeous at 9am as he was at noon yesterday, and you make your way towards the table he’s picked out. “I'm so sorry I'm late! I slept through my first alarm,” you tell him frantically while getting out your laptop and sliding into the chair across from him.

“No worries. I actually brought you a coffee anyways, so I guess it all worked out,” he tells you looking at your slightly frazzled state.

“You didn’t need to do that, you're already helping me so much by being here, but thank you.” You mentally mark him down as a charmer. He grins at you and you begin to review his old notes together.

“Your exam isn’t until Wednesday, right?” Akaashi questions during a break you agreed on after an hour of studying.

“Yes, thank god,” you reply to him.

“Make sure to call me after so we can see how helpful I was,” he says jokingly.

Three days, and two and a half hours of testing later, Akaashi’s phone rings and you echo through the line, “I GOT AN 88!” He congratulates you through the phone and states how this calls for a celebratory coffee, his treat. You of course are not going to turn that down and meet up with him at a shop a few blocks from campus. Upon seeing him you trample him with a hug and thank him until he has to stop you from doing so anymore. Akaashi laughs at you softly, “You’re welcome, but I'm sure you could’ve done it on your own.”

From there, your friendship with Akaashi blossomed into a relationship as the first date turned into third, which turned into fifth, which turned into inviting you to a New Years Eve party his friend was hosting, which obviously turned into your first kiss and so much more. Recently, it seems like you spend more time in his apartment than your own but there's nothing you would change about that. Waking up next to him felt sacred, you could talk about whatever you wanted and he would always keep the conversation flowing with little questions and quips about whatever you’re going on about.

Keiji reaches across the sheets to pull you closer to him when he notices your quiet snores have stopped and you begin to stretch out your legs. Your arms naturally go up to his neck to play with his hair when he wraps his own around your waist. He smiles sweetly at you, “Good morning.”

You giggle for a second before responding, “Good morning to you too.” Your eyes travel up to meet his as you ask, “Keiji do you believe in fate?”

“I don’t know. I never really thought about it. Do you?” He replies, slightly confused on why you were asking such a deep question so early in the morning.

“Well I think it was fate that you walked into that little bookshop at the same time I was there.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I was having a horrible week and I think you were sent to fix it all.” He hums and kisses the top of your head as you fall into a short silence. “You know it wasn't an accident. Back at the library I mean. I bumped into you on purpose,” you admit and your cheeks heat up a little.

“I know,” he says and smirks down at you. You look up at him, shocked eyes and open mouthed, and he puts a deep kiss onto your lips. He knew the entire time. And he just went along with your scheme because apparently you weren't the only one whose heart stopped at the first glance of a stranger whose beauty was truly breathtaking.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq x gn!reader #akaashi x reader #akaashi keji x reader #akaashi fluff #this is my first fic plz be nice to me #raz.writes #Spotify

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art-estrange · 4 months

Text

(AMAMOA) Chapter 2: People Are People

Professor!Pedro Pascal x Teaching Assistant!Reader

Words: 1073

Masterlist

*All Pictures used (unless stated otherwise) will be found on my pinterest linked in the masterlist*

Story Warnings: MDNI 18+ (mostly in the off chance that I choose to explore heavy themes later on. This will obviously be updated at a later time) Crocs(yes that has a warning, i’m kind of obsessed with wearing crocs and currently own 2 pairs hopefully more in the future)

Story Content Tags (most of this is mentioned in later chapters.): Meet-Cute, First person perspective, Age-gap(F28/late 20s/early 30s x M40/late 30s/early 40s), Art references, new york nonsense written by a non-new yorker, spanish/spanglish, Lots of college technical talk, this was kinda based off a dream, crocs, College AU, AU where pedro isn't an actor/famous, slightly proofread… sorry for typos i'm trying guys😭😭😭

Chapter Summary: Reader comes to a possibly devastating realization on the way to the gallery, however Pedro remains his goofy-golden retriever self. Also Sarah Paulson is there, she’s a fellow professor at NYU and seems to be friends with Pedro… maybe more?

LATE JUNE(PICKING UP AFTER CHAPTER 1):

With my outfit layed out, I slept like a baby with dreams of that sharp nose and bronze skin. The soft caress of his fingers against mine, those gentle puppy dog eyes like pools of warm cocoa. Pedro was in my dreams that night and the anticipation to see him again was almost palpable. I woke up that morning almost with a start, a jolt to rise from the sweetest slumber I had ever had. I got dressed and went about my day completing some lighter chores that I had left till the last minute. With a belly full of breakfast and a latte in hand, I slipped on some shoes at the door and went on my journey to see the man that’s invaded my dreams. On the way to the gallery I had a lot to think about, mostly the fact that when I looked at the fliers, both for the TA/Professor gallery and Pedro's…it was the same flier… I knew I had seen the flier before but I didn’t think it was the same flier I had seen earlier that day. In the back of my mind, despite having only thought about Pedro the whole morning, there was still a creeping feeling that the goofy loveable handsome Pedro I met yesterday…. Is my boss… or pseudo boss?? Or whatever, is the same Pedro that emailed me… the painting professor. It’s not exactly wrong if, per say in future, we were to pursue a relationship… IF that ever happened, not saying it would, but it wouldn't be bad if it did. He’s not my teacher… he’s a coworker… that’s higher up than me but he’s not the one ‘signing my checks’, sort-of-speak. The whole situation is conflicting, I mean there’s no denying that Peter/Pedro from the cafe is Peter/Pedro from my emails, he said it himself, his job has to do with painting and it's the same flier. There’s no way that they’re not the same person… there’s no way that there’s 2 Pedro’s/Peter’s both doing a job having to do with painting, having an art gallery AT THE SAME TIME IN THE SAME PLACE WITH THE SAME FLIER AREN'T THE SAME GUY. I worried about these intricate details, wringing my hands anxiously before texting him to ask if he wanted a coffee on the way there; just another way to delay the inevitable. I arrived with my watered down latte and his 6 shots of espresso over ice, still can’t believe he drinks this. The place was lively, there was light music playing in this brownstone walk-up that sat between an apartment and a warehouse turned studio. It wasn't too far from where campus resides, we were about a 10 minute walk in the direction of greenwich. I sent him a text letting him know I arrived and that I’d wait outside for him with his coffee.

Out walked the man of the hour. He strutted out in a fuzzy cardigan, no shirt underneath, his messy mop of hair now a quaffed wave of tresses trickling down the back of his head like a soft waterfall. A gold chain adorned his neck surrounded by a light smattering of chest hair. His dress shoes clicked against the concrete as he lifted his sculpted arms, fingers decorated with rings, to pull me into a warm hug. “Oh my god! I’m so glad you could make it! AND you brought me coffee!?” He exclaimed holding me out at arms length, inspecting my outfit and face almost like he’s committing my look to memory. “I mean it was on the way and I wouldn’t want to miss the opportunity to celebrate my new friend!” my worries were still in the back of my mind, but on the forefront was how good he looked and how I should be enjoying myself. “By the way I hope you don’t mind, but most of the people here are colleagues from work plus some grad students that’ll be working alongside us for the semester. I mentioned I’m a professor right?” He gestures to the people inside and then looks around as he speaks, ultimately stopping to stare at me as he says the words that I dreaded the most. “Um no, you didn’t! But… there’s actually something I wanted to-” As I get to the topic that’s been flooding my mind, we get interrupted. “Hey! Sorry to cut in! Pedro we’re ready to have like the speech thing, everyones mostly here. Except for your TA… she RSVP'd but like I dunno.” What I’m assuming is a fellow professor, mutters the last part as though thinking out loud. “Oh! Ok thanks! Um Y/N this is Sarah Paulson, a theatre professor at NYU and a super close friend of mine. Sarah, this is Y/N, we met a couple days ago, remember the girl I told you about?” He introduces us as he holds both our hands. They talked about me…wait..they talked about me? THEY’RE CLOSE FRIENDS AND THEY TALKED ABOUT ME?! “Oh yeah, THIS clumsy bitch loves to make people bust their asses! It’s like the spacial awareness isn’t there or something.” Sarah laughs, wrapping her arm around his shoulders, head leaning against his, as she busts his balls about his goofy behavior. “Why don’t we go inside so you can see some of the pieces, maybe you can make some more friends while I have a short convo with some of my coworkers and the grad students?” He leads me in, his large hand guiding me by my lower back as Sarah strides in front of us. The warmth from his hand spreads throughout my whole body just as he levels himself to whisper in my ear “Don’t worry about her, she loves to tell people how much of a mess I am, while being a mess herself…that’s probably why we’re soulmates in a sense” the last part is muttered in thought, almost like I wasn't meant to hear it. Soulmates? Well that complicates things...more so than they already were…

Now's the best time to tell him, otherwise I'll never get to say it. “Hey so before we walk in there’s something I need to tell you…” I pull him aside so as to not block the entrance. “Yeah? What’s up?” he says, those puppy dog eyes boring into my soul, concern written all over his face. “So..”

To be continued…

Note: If you can’t find chapter 1 for whatever reason (it doesn’t wanna show ip in the pedro pascal x reader tag for some reason) you can find it on the masterlist linked above alongside the prologue and this chapter and any future chapters.

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theslay3d · 1 year

Note

Can I request angst to fluff headcanons or an imagine for Magnus Chase x reader where Magnus’s s/o (who’s also an einherjar) goes missing? How would he react when he realized reader is missing? What would he be like while searching and when he finally finds them? Thank you!

Magnus Chase x Reader

Gender: Gender neutral

Warnings: none

Word count: 1719 omg

A/N so uhhh sorry this is so long AHAHAH not me low-key writing book AHAHHA anyway idc if some stuff is not possible i underestimated how long my idea would take. Sorry if its a little off based on the request. Still i hope you enjoy!!! also sorry if it’s not good i’m super tired

Magnus was panicking. You weren't anywhere in Valhalla he's checked everywhere. You were supposed to meet him in his room so you guys could hang out but you never showed up so he started panicking.

He knew this whole week you seemed tense. Like you knew something was gonna happen but he thought you would tell him when you wanted to. He thought it might have had something to do with you being a Greek demigod like his cousin but he really had no clue.

After he searched almost everywhere he finally went back to his hall and saw Alex leaning near his door. “Hey” Magnus said, breaking Alex out of what looked like deep thoughts.

“Hey” She replied back. “Where's Y/n? Weren't you guys supposed to be hanging out”

Magnus sighed and looked up to keep it together before he focused his gaze on Alex's eyes. “I don't know where they are i've searched everywhere and i have no clue”

Alex tilted her head. “Have you i don't know thought of asking any of the valkyrie”

Magnus looked around “Well no i uh didn't think of that”

Alex rolled her eyes and started to walk toward him. She grabbed his arm and started to drag him in the direction of one of the areas the valkyrie tends to be.

After a little walking they finally made it there and went to one of them. “Hi, I was wondering if you knew where Y/n was? They live near us and we can't find them”

The valkyrie they were talking to glanced around as if to make sure no one was listening then pulled them both into a small space. When they got there Magnus was sure these valkyries' features kept shifting until they settled on ones that looked similar to yours. It really freaked him out so he hoped that they would tell him and Alex what happened quickly.

“I'm not supposed to tell you this well i'm actually not supposed to be here at all but that's a story for another time” The valkyrie smiled and continued talking. “Someone not dead came here yesterday. We don't know how but he was able to get in and get out quickly.” She glanced around again. “We noticed that after he left a room was empty we went to check and Y/n was gone”

Magnus went numb. You were gone? How this place was protected the valkyrie were supposed to stop anyone from getting in. He saw Alex glance at him out of the corner of his eye but he kept his gaze on the valkyrie.

“We're not sure where Y/n is now but we're all trying to find her.” The valkyrie sighed as thunder boomed from somewhere. “That's all i can say for now but just know i'm rooting for you too” She winked and turned around to leave. When Magnus looked back she seemed to have disappeared.

He felt Alex place a hand on his shoulder. He knew she doesn't like touch so he was thankful that she even did that even if the touch made him feel more overwhelmed.

“We need to find Y/n”

Alex nodded her head. “I agree but i don't think we shouldn’t drag Sam into it she needs time”

Magnus agreed with that so they went to his room to start talking about what to do. After a few minutes of silence Alex said “Do you think this has something to do with Y/n being a Greek demigod?”

“I do” Magnus said. “This whole week they've been really tensed almost as if they were waiting for something”

Alen leaned back into where she was sitting. “Didn't Annabeth mention stuff about Greek demigods having dreams? Do you think Y/n had one?”

“They could have yeah i just don't know why they didn't mention it to me” Magnus breathed out a frustrated sigh. Why wouldn't you tell him you had a dream if you did? Didn't you trust him?

“Hey” Alex caught his attention. “It's going to be ok we will find Y/n”

“Thank you Alex”

The next day Magnus called Annabeth hoping maybe you were with her. Instead she asked for them to meet.

He went alone and met Annabeth in a coffee shop.

Her eyes lit up when she saw him sit down in front of her. “Hello Magnus”

“Hey Annabeth. Why did you want to meet instead of telling me over the phone” Magnus immediately questioned. He wanted to know what was going on. He didn't like being left in the dark which probably had to do with his dad Frey but whatever.

Annabeth's hands went up to the beads on her necklace. She started to fumble with them when she spoke. “Y/n showed up to camp last night. They were injured so we healed Them and this morning They were gone” Annabeth sighed and continued. “When we talked to our camp director about it he said we would know soon and that Y/n had to do something”

Magnus narrowed his eyes and asked “But you have theories?”

“Yes” Annabeth took a sip of the drink she had and told Magnus what she thought “I think they may just be on a quest for a god or it has something to do with Nico one of our campers he's also been acting weird lately”

“So they could just be on a quest? But why didn't they tell me”

“I'm not sure Magnus im sorry”

After that Magnus left. He was frustrated over the whole thing and he just wanted to see you. He started to walk when he noticed a kid motioning him over. The kid had black hair and looked severely sick.

Magnus made sure that the kid was motionting to him then walked over. Which was stupid but he brought his hand up to Jack's charm to make sure he was safe.

Once he was near the kid he spoke “Who are you and what do you want”

“Im Nico Di Angelo son of Hades and i know where Y/n is”

That got Magnus’s attention “What? Where are they?”

“A god. A Greek one specifically Hypnos wanted them for a quest. Now though they are lost on the new Circe island and it's up to you and you alone to find them”

This Nico kid seemed dramatic. You were lost? How and why did this guy Hypnos want you for a quest?

After Nico told him everything. About how you were looking for a bottle of whatever it was for Hypnos and how now you were stuck on this Greek sorceress island. He set out to find you no matter what.

He knew it would take awhile but he was prepared to do whatever. He went back to Valhalla and packed a bag full of supplies.

He told Alex she couldn't come as for one Nico said it had to be alone and secondly not that he would ever admit but he didn't want Alex to get hurt as this whole thing seemed dangerous. I mean a quest for a Greek demigod being led by a Norse one? What could go wrong?.

~Time skip~

It's been days since he found a boat to get him there. Apparently he was getting closer now. The reason he knew that was because Nico told him where it was and he also could just tell it seemed to get dark and gloomy as soon as he kept going further. It felt as if two types of magic were fighting against each other.

This whole time Magnus felt worried for you. He hoped you were ok and that you were safe. He finally saw something in the distance. He squinted his eyes and saw an island that seemed to glow. It looked magical just the right place. So he sped up.

He finally made it to the edge of the island and had to walk in the water a few steps to get there. He ran to some bushes so he could be covered and so he could see what was happening.

His eyes immediately found you. You were sitting at a table and opposite of you was a woman that was enchantingly beautiful. She had dark long hair and eyes that looked like they could see through you. Which they probably could.

He really focused in when he saw you guys talking

“Oh my dear you will make an amazing apprentice you don't need to finish this foolish quest” Her words seemed so enchanting that even he wanted to give in.

He saw you clench your jaw “No i want to leave Circe now”

Circe rolled her eyes. “You don't need to go back to that boy your way better off here”

Magnus made a plan in his mind. It was stupid but it was a plan.

He popped out of the bush. “I for one think that they should come back to me and their friends”

Circe got up immediately. “No no no HOW did you get here!!”

Instead of replying he ran to you. “Are you ok?”

Your eyes filled with tears. Magnus was here finally. You nodded and got up to stand beside him.

Magnus got out his weapon and you grabbed a silver platter from the table. It was the only weapon like thing around.

Circe laughed, “It's amusing that you think you can beat me!” Lighting struck near her when she said that last word.

You and Magnus looked at each other then ran at her. You both fought against her attacks with you hitting her in the head with the platter that didn't seem to do much.

After you both failed to at least knock her out you finally made a plan. Wait until she throws a spell and lift the reflective silver platter so hopefully it would go back to her.

Finally she threw a spell and you lifted it. Thankfully it seemed luck was on your side. The spell went back to her and hit her, she immediately passed out.

You both sighed in relief and ran to hug each other. Magnus cupped your face “You're alright?”

“Yes” You nodded your head.

He kissed the top of your head. “Don't leave again promise me”

“I promise”

#magnus chase fanfiction #magnus chase x you #magnus chase x reader #magnus chase and the gods of asgard #magnus chase #alex fierro #magnus chase and alex fierro #annabeth chase #percy jackson fanfiction

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mrkis · 1 year

Note

So I have this story I want to share cause sometimes and opinion from a "stranger" can be more helpful. 😅

Basically, yesterday I received a message from an ex-colleague of mine (havent seen/talked to him in over 2 years). I had shared a funny real about "manifesting a sugar daddy" this year and he reacted to it and then asked if I find one to ask him where he can find a sugar mama, and I totally jumped on his joke and replied, however, I didnt expect for any further communication but man did he keep going. He kinda started flirting to which I started hyperventilating cause I havent spoken to him in years and it was all happening so damn fast..😵‍💫 He started complimenting me and saying I have what it takes to catch a guy's attention, that I cook well and its a full package deal (I have brought pancakes and brownie at work before and he has eaten it). And it was both flatering but also confusing. As you can tell he was making a move on me and was very clear with his intention for a hook up, cause he kept saying how he wouldnt turn me down if I asked and what not.

The crazy part comes here - he asked me how long has it been for me since the last time I had sex since I told him I dont do hook ups and I kinda lied and said that its been 5 years since I have been single for this long, but the thing is I actually still have my V card at age 25 ... 🫣 I have some experience, like I have went 2nd base with my ex (no blowjob tho) but still back then I didnt feel comfortable with him to go all the way so nothing ever really happened.

Dont get me wrong, Im not ashamed of being a virgin, but I am tired of the fear of admitting it to dudes, cause society has made it to be a bad thing when its not. Anyway, you can imagine how shocked he was at that and he even asked if at least I "help myself with the stress" and obviously I do, so there is that, but despite me saying I cant do one night stands because of this moral boundary he kinda kept going on how I should try it at least so that I dont regret it later in life and mentioned he wanted to "make me an offer". To that I said he is kinda late, cause well we dont even live in the same city anymore (I moved) and I also said that we can meet up for coffee but I cant give him what he wants from me. He was respectful of it, thank god, but my brain is my own villain. I now overthink shit and feel like I made a good and bad decision at once, cause horny me really wants to have sex and mind you I have always been sexually attracted to him. I had a crush on him for a month back in 2020 which was awoken because of a sex dream I had. I think he also had a crush on me later that year cause he kinda sorta asked me out to dinner during work but I thought it was a joke and reacted to it like a fucking loser (in my defense I was also on a call with a client /call center job). So we do have history, I also think we've always had this sexual energy and frustration but neither acted on it until well yesterday.

Moral me is saying I did the right choice, cause I want my first time to be with someone special and to mean sth, not be a hook up. Horny me is mad cause I was basically offered dick on a silver plate and said no ... 😩🙃

Sorry to drop this on you Cas, but I feel so comfortable sharing this with you 😅 I guess this blog is my safety place in so many aspects. ❤️

Also, how you doing, lovely? ❤️

for starters, his approach was kinda odd straight off the bat. don’t get me wrong, i’ve had conversations with people i haven’t talked to in awhile abt random shit and joked around with memes and whatnot, but the fact that you haven’t spoken in two years and he went into this conversation asking such personal questions rubs me the wrong way completely.

compliments are great, sometimes you cant go wrong with them and they do make you feel great, but the fact he was complimenting you just for a potential hookup is where it gets gross. there was…. no need, whatsoever. it shocks me how he was moving the conversation so fast lmao.

him asking abt the last time you’ve had sex is so…. eh. ew. sorry. it is. like, he doesn’t need to know this!!! at all!!! and it’s completely ok to be a virgin at whatever age. society shouldn’t shame people who are, it’s so silly. it has nothing to do with them. you shouldn’t be afraid of admitting it either, but of course that’s easier said than done. but trust me when i say that people (men, in your case) actually don’t give a shit abt whether you’re a virgin or not. you may think they do due to how society treats it, but they do not care. before i lost my virginity and was talking to this guy i liked, i had to admit that i was a virgin because i was scared of our relationship going further and that he might expect something from me. and he just looked at me like 🤨 and went “that’s ok? idc, it doesn’t bother me”. they don’t care! i promise! and if they do, they can go fuck themselves

“help yourself with the stress” what are these questions he’s asking😐 im so baffled rn. truly. this is unbelievable. and hold on….. tf does he mean abt “you might regret it later in life”??? what??? not experiencing a one-night stand??? tf??? why would he think you might regret something like that when you’ve made it perfectly clear you’re not into stuff like that🤨 crazy fucking behaviour.

personally, i think you made a good decision. because even though that turned on, horny side of you is wanting to have sex, that’s not exactly the real you, yk? you, normally, just wants to wait for that special someone that you connect with and that’s completely ok. you can wait for as long as you please. you control it. nobody else, please remember that.

and don’t feel sorry abt dropping this on me. i’m happy i can be some sort of safe space. you, and anyone else who is comfortable, can always come to me and vent/rant. i truly don’t mind. i’m all ears🖤

and i’m ok!!! i’ve been in my head recently and overthinking my own stuff and putting myself in bad moods but that’s my fault completely😭 i’m hoping that this new therapist i’m getting will be of help because when i get comfortable, they’re gonna hear some shit😭😭

#‣ [asks]#jaehyuns-adorable-dimples ⛧

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widoglock · 1 year

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Fic preview for WIP Wednesday! I’ve been slowly chipping away at a Groundhog Day scenario, where Caleb relives the two days on the road where Molly dies/the team raids the Sour Nest over and over.

“Is this all still based on a dream, though? Is this like...a thing with you guys?”

Beau reaches for her boots. “Did we already drink all the booze from the cart?”

Caleb says, “We need quiet. My trap rang and—”

That turns everyone’s heads. Beau, one boot caught halfway up her foot, shouts, “Your trap went off?”

“...And they have an elf. If she—”

“When the fuck did your trap go off?”

“About a minute ago.”

“Caleb, you can’t—”

“We only have a few moments—”

“You can’t just keep that shit to yourself, man!”

“If the elf hears us over the hill, there could be trouble,” Caleb rushes to finish.

“And oh, what, they’ll leave their cart to come check us out? Cool! More room for Nott to pick the locks.”

“I’m off the table, remember?” Nott snips. Molly flops onto his back, hands over his eyes. Keg is fumbling with a cigarette. “I don’t understand why you won’t drop this.”

Beau makes a clawed gesture, like she can fleece some patience out of the air. She rounds on Caleb: “Okay—yeah, how would you feel if Nott were in there? Would you still—”

“Yes.”

Beau reels. “Really? If one of us woke up and went, ‘Hey guys, hang on a sec, I’ve had this random prophetic vision—nope, never had one before, but trust me, this one feels—’”

“Beauregard—”

“—‘Feels good I guess. So now I’m gonna decide for—on behalf of the whole party to let Nott get tortured for another couple days, sorry.’ You really wanna tell me you wouldn’t shit a brick?”

“We do not have time for this conversation.”

“So you admit you’d shit a brick.”

“I would shit a brick quietly,” Caleb stresses.

“Like hell you would.” Beau kicks the back of Molly’s leg. “Back me up here.”

“Sorry, but you lost this argument a long time ago.” Molly’s tone has resumed its casual monotone, though his twitching tail betrays a nurtured animosity. He trades the hands over his face for a pillow. “We can’t afford to play chicken with these two. Not with our friends’ lives on the line.”

“I never said this was fair,” Caleb tries. “I will certainly not pretend it is kind. But if it is what I have to do to save you...then I will do it.”

Molly flips him off.

“I trust Caleb,” Nott informs the tent. “He knows magic.”

Keg settles on, “Did uh...did you just notice, or—?”

“No, I—oh for shit’s sake, I mean he knows magic. If this were a spell, he would know.”

“I am not so sure that I would.”

“Caleb!”

Caleb holds up a hand: “But I can tell you that if this is a spell, it is unlike any I have ever seen—ever heard of. Magic can alter memories. Spin a few...moments, from adjacent sinew. It should not be able to conjure whole days from nothing.”

“Yeah, and who would’ve cast a spell like that anyways?” Nott rallies. “With what power? From where? The last time we saw anyone was on the road yesterday afternoon. Do spells even last that long?”

“A few can last for—”

Nott perseveres: “And, and what, did someone really sneak up to our tent last night, and cast—they didn’t even take any of our fancy stuff—and cast the most convoluted, most top secret spell ever on one person—”

“Hello?”

Five heads turn to track the shadow outside their tent.

“Is everything all right in there?” Dwelma asks.

Caleb clears his throat, but no words come out. The only sound is the timid fizzle of Keg’s cigarette.

There’s an almost audible click as Molly’s mask slides into place. He pokes his head out through the tent flaps:

“Why, hello there!”

#widomauk #wip wednesday

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postwarlevi · 2 years

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between one mental breakdown and another, here I am

So, classic movies... I remember you telling me that you loved Roman Holidays. When was the first time you watched it? And, I have to ask for national pride and curiosity ehehehe, if you could see/visit/eat/do only one thing in Rome, what would it be?

About fruits, I believe that our loved Levi canonically likes apples (?). I don't think Jean would be into fruits in general, while Armin would be a total freak about it, always telling everybody how it is important to eat healthy .

And, last but not least... can we swap bodies for a day and can you do my English business exam I swear I am going crazy with all these graphs and idiomatic expression 😭😭😭

Jk apart, a random question

What's your favourite historical period? 👻

Luv u :> 💗

Hello my love! I am sorry, I did see this yesterday and fell asleep, had an early workday today, one tomorrow, and am trying to avoid all these fireworks the neighbors have already started even though the official holiday is tomorrow.

My schedule is always so messed up around this time because for 2 weeks in the evening I put my earplugs and headphones on to block out outside noise, otherwise I am super anxious. And I put on Disney movies and cartoons to distract myself. And then I don't do the things I would have liked. Tomorrow should be the worst and then hopefully the noise will be about done!

ANYway, that's my mental breakdown, but I'm trying to get through it! I hope you are making it, and I must say you don't want me doing our exam LOL. I am not an expert in the language I've been taught since birth! You got this though! I'm sending you lots of good vibes and hugs!

Roman Holiday?? Oh I love that movie! Dashing Gregory Peck and beautiful Audrey Hepburn on location in Rome, what a dream! I must've watched it around 10 years ago the first time? At the time I was picking what movies to watch based on the actors in them because I was obsessed and never had enough time to watch all I wanted. I don't think I really appreciated the whole thing until a few viewings in. I've even seen it in the movie theater!

I of course would like to do the normal tourist stuff like see The Colosseum and The Trevi Fountain, but I would seriously look into things to do that aren't the regular thing. Have any ideas? Are outdoor markets a big thing? I would have to try tiramisu and gelato and see what type of vegetarian pasta dishes I could try!

Have you seen the film Light in the Piazza? It's also a beautiful scenic film with some on location filming in Rome and Florence!

Yes it'd been decided (by me LOL jk) that Levi loves apples and apple desserts. They're so refreshing and there's so many varieties! Perhaps canon Jean is a meat and potatoes kind of guy, but I stand by my silly thought that modern Jean loves strawberries. Not even only the real fruit, but artificially flavored strawberry anything! You better be wearing strawberry chapstick too hehe. For my fun little favorite fruits HC I keep going back and fourth between some (who likes grapefruit?) but I will say I keep going to blueberries for Armin. I bet he's like me and loves giant fruit bowls and smoothies!

For time periods I feel like I like to intermix them and cannot properly separate them anymore LOL maybe the Victorian era? Or for the United States, what I found is called the post-war era from 1945 to 1964. Music, film and fashion were flying high! Of course it had it's issues but every time period has some!

Thank you for stopping to say hello! Send me stuff anytime and, don't be alarmed if it takes me a day or two. I want to get to everything cannot always do so <3

send me stuff about aot, fruit, movies, all the things!

#moots #moots mia y #thank you for all of this #i love it!#roman holiday is a wonderful movie!#go watch it everyone and tell me you don't fall in love!#levi liking apples makes sense #maybe jean and strawberries is just in my head but that's okay lol #what fruit do you think aot characters would like?

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miracleweaponhunt · 1 month

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Miracle Weapon Hunt Chapter 37: Planning Stages

Roxanne woke up without any bad dreams in the hotel room. It was early, still dark outside. But as hard as she tried, she couldn't get back to sleep. She woke up alone, making her way to the hotel reception for breakfast. Everything there seemed to be made for building muscle or keeping energy, nothing that really focused on the taste aspect. She just got some yogurt with fruit, hoping that would carry her for a while. As she sat down in the corner of the room, a short girl with messy black hair that looked like it had never been styled approached her.

"Is that good?" She asked nonchalantly. She looked at Roxanne with her dopey brown eyes, dressed in a black sweater with a necklace like hers, only with a white gem in the centre. Fairly common type. Other than that, black sweater and jeans. Really skinny, too.

"It's pretty good." Roxanne said back.

"Cool, know what I'm getting." The girl nodded. Roxanne watched her order her yogurt, then sit with her table of two other friendly looking guys. The guys looked familiar.

Then it hit her. They were the Lumps, the fourth ranked hero group. Or at least the two guys were. The girl she'd never seen. She knew all about the two guys. The blonde muscular one was Ryland. Leader, fighter, expert in grappling. The skinnier man with perfectly styled black hair was Rodrick Santiago. No nonsense master of every tool needed for every situation. Both of which could make excellent boyfriends, but finding love was on hold. Not finished, for whatever Kazumi or Julian were saying, just on hold. She just needed to know what it was she really wanted.

"Hey, what's up there?" The girl with the lumps asked, looking at the TV right next to Roxanne. It was playing the message she and the others saw yesterday to the public.

"I'm sorry, are they just giving away the gauntlet?" Rodrick asked.

"It's like a heroism test, probably." Ryland replied quickly. "Seeing as Sandala gave their axe away to help fight the Legion, maybe Fightston wants to do the same thing."

"I thought that some scouting ship stole the axe while Sandala was being invaded."

"I mean, it worked out. And Zach probably wants to repeat the success, you know how he is."

"Well, I think it'll be cool." The girl with them nodded. "Besides, Ryland and I could probably clean out the whole legion with it." Rodrick just sighed at the end of the sentence.

"Look, as long as the winner isn't some legion spy or one of those Battlestorm assholes, I'm fine."

"Gee, thanks."

Caoimhe walked past them as she got her food, also yogurt. Makes sense, it's high quality yogurt. She sat next to Roxanne afterward.

"So, you ready for the first round?" She asked.

"Totally." Roxanne lied.

"That's good." Caoimhe sighed. She knew it was a lie, but whatever. Not like she'd get hurt in some major way. She tried coming up with another conversation topic by glancing around the room. Yogurt? Nah, that's dumb. What kind of moron bases their identity around yogurt? TV shows. They definitely don't have a single show in common. The lumps?

"So, ignoring your own, what's your favourite hero group?"

"I guess…the Stones? Julian seemed to like them."

"The eternal underdogs, huh? Makes sense. What about the Kerobons?"

"The clown ones?"

"Okay, how much do you know about the hero groups?"

Roxanne stopped for a second. "Basically nothing."

"Makes sense. Well, you got this far. Good luck during the weeding process, I guess."

Just as Caoimhe was about to leave, Cutter walked in. He briefly looked around the room, and gave what seemed to be a sign of disbelief. He quickly handed out dark blue noise cancelers to everyone in the room. before flashing a devilish grin. He grabbed a megaphone, and immediately started shouting as loud as he could.

"EVERYONE GET TO THE GROUNDS ON THE DOUBLE! THE ARENA OF DEATH! IF YOU DON'T KNOW WHERE IT IS, FIND OUT, CAUSE IF YOU AIN'T THERE IN TWO HOURS, YOU AIN'T IN THE TOURNAMENT!"

Roxanne and Caoimhe both got texts on their phone.

'whats going on why is cutter yelling' from Julian.

'Tell me why exactly tattoo man is screaming?" from Luca.

'We need to go to the Arena of Death? No clue where that is? Cassandra probably does.'

'Arena of death. Get dressed so we can follow Cutter.'

"Gotta say, dint expect ya to be up 'fore the others." Cutter said to Roxanne as she gave the noise cancellers back.

"Well, a hero's always gotta be up early, right?"

"You'd think." Caoimhe replied calmly.

The others appeared soon afterward. Most of yesterday's important names were up, if slightly grouchy looking. Cutter looked around, nodded to himself, and started whistling a merry tune to himself as he led the early birds to the arena of death.

The Arena of Death was just an ordinary sports stadium. It was bright blue, with nothing to indicate the 'of Death' part of Arena of Death. Not even a black banner draped over the entrance or something. As the competitors entered the reception of the Arena, Zach stood proudly in front of them.

"These the guys, Cutter?"

"Should be." Cutter replied.

"Great job as always. Anyway! And to any newcomers, welcome to the games. Before I explain how this round is gonna work, I need to introduce one more contestant. Introducing the next in line to the Vannana throne, the ever lovely Willow!"

Zach stylishly moved his hand towards the chair Willow was seductively lying upon, where she slowly got up, her countries lance in hand, towards the group.

"Greetings, heroes and other miscellaneous oddities of wonder! I, miss Willow Vannana, have decided to enter the Fightston games, bringing with me the Relic weapon of Vannana."

"Is that also a prize?" The girl with the lumps asked.

"No. My mom is probably planning my murder, and I'd at least like my body to be somewhat identifiable."

"Also should mention, but if you do use a weapon, it's the blunt stuff only. Healers here aren't miracle workers." Cutter interjected quickly, already ready to end Willow's tirade of valour. "Zach, you wanna explain the first round?"

"Certainly, Cutter!" Zach nodded, as peppy as ever. "Put simply, there are over three hundred people here. So, we're putting you in one arena, and having you fight it out. If you get knocked out or put outside the safe zone, you're out! The thirty-two remaining will progress to the next round!"

"Alright, ya got twenty minutes to pick out your weapons and figure out group plans." Cutter interjected. "Now get to it."

The players were shoved into the stadium's field to discuss strategy. In the changing rooms was a selection of training weapons for anyone who needed them. Cassandra took both an axe and a shortsword, just in case.

"You sure you wanna do this, Roxanne?" She asked, looking worried. "I mean, your legs still busted."

"It's not as busted." Roxanne added. "Besides, I need something to work on now that my journey for love is on hold."

"Right." Roxanne gave an uneasy nod.

"Okay, I have an idea." Julian added. "Zach is getting my bear for me, so why not have Roxanne ride it while we protect her, then carry her to the next round? Could buy some time to eliminate a problem for later."

"And then I fight for real in round two?"

"I'll be honest Roxanne, you are getting eviscerated in the second round if this works."

"Hey, I got an idea."

The girl with the Lumps was smirking behind them.

"If you want, I am a wielder. I can boost people's reflexes. So we can work together on this."

"What's in it for you?" Julian asked, crouching down to her level.

"Easy. You think about the main reason the gauntlet is up for grabs? It's probably to lure anyone from the Legion over to steal it. So tell me anyone who looks sus and I'll help you to the next round. We got a deal?"

The three glanced at the girl, her facial expression still unchanging.

"Name's Siena, by the way."

"Didn't even think of the Legion part." Julian whispered as he turned the other two around. "I say we take it."

"But what if she's in the Legion?" Roxanne asked. "She's with the Lumps, and I've never seen her with them before now."

"Well, she's a support, so even if she is with them, cornering and grabbing her shouldn't be too hard." Cassandra added.

"Yeah, we'll take your offer." Julian said with a flourish back towards her, shaking her hand.

"Right!" Cutter yelled in the rooms. "'rena time! Find a spot and stay there!"

The four stood where Julian suggested, just shy of the middle for safety, but also away from where the action will be most intense at the start. The other Lumps joined up with them, not saying much. Cassandra boosted Roxanne onto the bear, just in time for Cutter to barge into the centre.

"Okay, errone ready?" He asked. Without waiting for any answers, the next phrase emerged.

"Round one, begin!"

#my writing #writeblr #writing #creative writing #fantasy #webnovel #writers on tumblr #spilled ink

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juicyspacesecrets · 5 years

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Anniversary

#ezra bridger #long comic #missing scene #very sketchy sorry guys #also this got super long and I actually had to cut stuff out #anyway this blog is 3 whole ass years old!!#(it was actually yesterday but yanno i procrastinate)#putting it in text made it fuzzy even if the formatting was better and you didn't have to like zoom #hmmm i'll figure this out someday #sorry guys its emo time #one of many angst comics i got in this goblin brain #star wars rebels #swr #loosely based on a fanfic i read a while ago where hera made sure to celebrate birthdays of the crew #I found the fanfic-dream on up by inconocible #its real good and frankly all their rebel stuff is good 👌

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dreamerstreamer · 3 years

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A Terrible Tutor

Pairing: Dream / Clay x gn!reader

Summary: [High School!AU] He’s cocky, annoying, a total tease, has a laugh loud enough to shake the stars, and you hate him. But as luck would have it, he’s also your tutor.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: minor cursing

A/N: this is based on a classmate i had way back! (we did not fall in love. he was awful.) i’ve also never taken physics, but i tried something a bit new for the reader’s personality. i hope you enjoy :) <3

You glared down at your physics textbook, the open pages staring back up at you with beady eyes made of diagrams and labels. Off to the side, your notebook was strewn across your desk, a list of questions scribbled across the top line in a hurried rush. The handwriting was messier than you would have liked, but the thought didn’t irritate you.

What did irritate you was that it was nearly half past four, and your so-called tutor still hadn’t shown up.

You could still envision the concerned look on Mr. Craftson’s face as he held you back a moment after class, watching as the rest of your classmates poured out of the door with an anxious look. He had offered you a kind smile before pulling out your test from the week before, and you winced at the numerous red marks scattered across the front page alone.

“I know you’ve been struggling in this class,” he said, gazing at you almost pitifully.

You tried not to glower at the sight of his apologetic eyes trained on you, instead nodding your head slowly. “It’s been… hard,” you said slowly.

He leaned an arm on his chair, pushing your test toward you. “You ask questions in class,” he hummed, “and from what I’ve seen, you complete your homework diligently.” His smile fell. “Yet here you are me, with the lowest mark in my class.”

You wanted to shrivel up into a ball. Maybe he didn’t have to say it like that, but he wasn’t wrong, either.

At your silence, he prodded at you. “Is there anything going on at home that might be hindering you, or…?”

You whipped your head up, your eyes wide. “No! Things are—things are great. It’s just…”

You swallowed, then sighed, fidgeting your fingers on your lap. “I guess,” you murmured, trying to quell the shame flaring up inside you, “I’ve just been really struggling with the material, and none of it’s really been clicking.”

Mr. Craftson’s face softened in an instant. “That’s alright. Thank you for being honest with me. If my teaching hasn’t been working out with you…”

He paused, rubbing at the blond stubble on his chin for a moment. Then, his face lit up and he leaned forward. “Tell you what,” he said. “I’ve got a great student who I think might be able to explain things to you in a way you might be able to grasp a little better. He’s got the best marks in this class.”

Your eyes widened. The best in the class? He had to be a genius.

“I have a good feeling he can meet you tomorrow at four after school to help you out,” he continued, leaning against the arm rest of his office chair. “What do you say?”

You blinked, a thoughtful look passing over your face. Lord knew you needed the help—you were practically failing the class—but an uneasy stone settled into the pit of your stomach. You’ve never needed tis much help to pass a class before. The thought made you want to gag. Slowly, you opened your mouth.

“Do I have to…” You gestured vaguely. “Pay him or something?”

His cerulean eyes blinked at you for a second, then he laughed—the kind of deep-belly laugh only teachers seemed to be able to have. “No, no,” he said, waving his hand at you, “not at all. He’s a good kid. He wouldn’t do something like that.”

You bobbed your head, your insides crumbling. You didn’t want to accept, you really didn’t. Part of you guys wanted to believe that you could just work harder, study by yourself even more. You were a dedicated student, and you were doing just fine in all your other classes. Surely the content couldn’t get that much harder, right?

But as your gaze lowered to the red ink staining your test once more, you felt yourself swallowing the lump in your throat. Straightening your back, you let your stubborn pride seep out of your shoulders and onto the floor.

It looked like this was a sacrifice you were simply going to have to make.

“Thank you so much for the offer,” you said, letting your lips curl up into a genuine, grateful smile. “It—it really means a lot.”

Mr. Craftson grinned at you, an easygoing flint shining in his eyes. “Of course. You’re a bright student. Sometimes we all just need a little push.”

You could still remember shaking his hand in thanks before bundling your stuff in your arms and shuffling into the hall, tucking your feet between the pages of your textbook. That had been yesterday, and now, the same one was sitting on your desk, open to a new page full of jumbled words you could hardly decipher.

The chair across from you was distinctly empty.

He—whoever he was—was late.

You distantly wondered to yourself who your tutor even was, your gaze drifting down to your textbook. Mr. Craftson had said he was the best student taking the class. Would it be George? He always seemed like he knew what was going on, and he never really asked questions. But sometimes, he looked like he was just zoning out. Maybe it was Technoblade. He was smart. You paused, then shook your head. No, everyone knew he was one of those English kids.

The thought made you furrow your brows, wracking your head even more. The words on the page grew muddled and fuzzy as you thought even more. Just who was it?

Just then, you heard the classroom door swing open with the same loud creak every door in the school seemed to have. The sound of heavy breaths and panting filled the air, then a haggard voice spoke up.

“Hey, I’m so sorry I’m late.”

You didn’t look up from your page, letting a sigh escape your lips as you lifted your head. Plastering a polite smile to your face, you let your gaze travel toward your tutor. “Hi, it’s nice to me—”

Suddenly, your voice died in your throat as your eyes locked onto the figure standing in the doorway. Towering over the desks with a duffel bag resting against his hip, his dirty blond locks were damp and matted against his forehead, his emerald eyes blinking at you. Something bitter and warm twisted in your gut at the sight, and the smile dropped off your face and into a scowl.

“Oh,” you said flatly. “It’s you.”

The smile he offered you was easygoing, but you didn’t miss the strain in his gaze. “It’s me.”

You bit on the inside of your cheek, your heart practically revolting against your rib cage with the way it was hammering. A million questions were darting around the inside of your skull, only making your blood boil even more with each passing second.

Of all the people you had expected to show up, Clay was easily the last.

The two of you had first met back in freshman year in your first science class—he had sat behind you and had the loudest laugh on the planet, or so you were convinced. You were quieter back then, but just as stubborn and snappish as now. Soon enough, one thing led to another, and you swore the two of you were suddenly enemies for life.

Although you couldn’t remember what had caused your little feud, you knew that he was the one who started it. He was loud and kicked your chair, he just loved to borrow your pens and never return them, and you could never figure out just why he loved to tease you so much. You don’t think you learned a single thing in that class, always distracted by the presence staring a hole into your back, and you wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.

Naturally, that meant your teacher assigned him to sit behind you for the rest of the year. To this day, you were convinced she hated you, and you still avoided her in the halls.

To say that science class was your least favourite would be an understatement, and soon enough, everybody was in on your hatred for each other. Clay never seemed to stop pestering you no matter how hard you tried to ignore him, and you would never forget the day you finally snapped at him, whipping around to glare at him with your cheeks on fire.

“Will you please shut up?”

The shocked look on his face was still burned into your memory as it melted into a wide, proud grin.

“Only if you make me.”

Even years later, he always seemed to find a way to worm himself back into your life, and you hated it. You hated him, simple as that.

So, seeing him standing in front of you like this, it took every ounce of your strength to keep your voice as neutral as possible.

“What took you so long?”

He patted his duffel bag before slipping it off his shoulder and setting it on the ground. “I just finished football practice. Coach ran a little long and I figured it would be polite to take a shower before so I didn’t smell all sweaty when I tutored you.”

You blinked, your mouth falling open. That explained his wet hair, you guessed. While you were vaguely flattered, you were distracted by something else. “You knew that you would be tutoring me?”

Clay nodded, pulling back the chair in front of you. “Yeah. Phil asked me.”

You gaped. “You call Mr. Craftson by his first name?”

His smile was a touch too smug for your liking, and you wanted to wipe it off his face. “Maybe. I was surprised when he asked, though.” He wrinkled his nose and shot you a teasing smirk as he sat down. “I didn’t think you would be failing this class.”

You glowered, that same bitter feeling bubbling up in your chest, again. “I’m not failing,” you snapped. “I’m just…” You paused, your cheeks growing hot. “…not passing.”

He gave you a deadpan look, then laughed. “That’s the same thing.”

You sent him a gesture that your teacher most certainly would have scolded you for if he was here, and he laughed even harder. You were suddenly reminded of just how damn loud his laugh was, sounding like fireworks in your ears. Slumping over, you hung your head in your hands.

“Ugh. I can’t believe you knew you were going to be tutoring me of all people.” You paused, then added, “I can’t believe you agreed.”

He tilted his head at you, brushing his damp hair out of his face. “Did you not know I was gonna be your tutor?”

“No.” You frowned. “If I did, I wouldn’t have shown up.”

His eyes flickered with mirth as a smile stretched across his face. “Aw, am I really that disagreeable?”

“Yes,” you said immediately, your gaze as sharp as a blade. “Without a doubt. A hundred percent. I didn’t even have to think about it.”

He whistled, feigning a wince. “Harsh.”

Wryly, you said, “You deserve it.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “I wasn’t that bad as a freshman, was I?”

You gave him a hard, callous stare. “Do you really think I’m the one you should be asking that question?”

He thought about it for a moment, then sighed. “Okay, point taken.”

You dragged a hand over your face, then pointed at your textbook. “Are you going to teach me now or what? We’re already behind.”

He winced for real this time, and you almost felt bad for him. Almost. “Sorry, again.”

“Seriously,” you muttered under your breath, reaching into your back to grab your pencil case, “and to think that you have the highest grades in this class.”

“Hey,” he shot back, “I’m brains and brawn.”

You shot him a look that was nothing short of disgusted. He cringed a little at the sight.

“Okay, that was cheesy, but I’m not wrong. Besides, coach says I have to keep my grades up or else I’m off the team.” He leaned closer to you, and you tried to ignore the feeling of his hot breath fanning over your skin. “You know I can’t let everyone down like that.”

You looked unconvinced. “Uh huh. Totally.” Whipping out a pencil, you tapped at the bottom of the page you had open. “Can you explain this to me, now? The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can leave.”

He quietly chuckled, and you hated how soft it sounded. Leaning closer to the textbook to read, his lips mouthed the problem silently. You tried not to stare at his mouth as it moved, your gaze tracing over the soft dip of his lips as his viridian eyes flashed with recognition. A moment later, he sat back and cocked his head at you.

“So, what exactly do you not understand?”

You didn’t miss a beat. “Everything.”

He blinked, disbelief colouring his features. “Everything? Like, the whole thing?”

You scowled. “I thought that was obvious. All that stuff about velocity and the funny diagrams—” You shook your head. “—none of it makes sense.”

He raised a brow at you. “I thought you were paying attention in class. You really don’t understand a single thing?”

You bit back the urge to scream. “It’s not like you’re much smarter.”

Clay snorted derisively. “I am. That’s kind of the whole point.”

You groaned, letting your voice ring out in the quiet of the empty classroom. You caught a glimpse of his amused smile in front of you, and it only made you groan louder.

“You’re the one who ruined science for me, you know? I hated going to that class, and look at me now.” You gestured to yourself, using your finger to draw a ring in the air. “It all comes full circle.”

There was a brief second of silence. “I’m the reason why you hate science?”

You didn’t budge. “I wasn’t exactly jumping for joy knowing I was going to be stuck in a class with someone who never gave me my stuff back and kicked my chair.”

Another wave of silence washed over the two of you, but this one was tense—heavy. He swallowed, and you watched his Adam’s apple bob.

“You…” His eyes swirled with something sad and honest. “You really hate me that much?”

He suddenly looked a lot like a kicked puppy, and a pang of guilt shot through your chest like a bullet. With a panicked gaze, your voice grew shaky as you spoke. “I—I don’t hate you. I just… I had a grudge, I guess.”

Your tone grew soft, and you lowered your gaze to your lap. “I… I really didn’t like you back then, but things have changed.” You offered him a small smile, but it felt shy. “We’re not exactly fourteen, anymore.”

He returned your smile with one of his own. Just like yours, it was small and tender, and it sent something stirring in the depths of your belly. “No,” he murmured, “we’re not.”

“I,” you breathed, gulping down the last dredges of your grudge, “was stubborn back then.” You raised a shoulder. “In a way, I still am. I have too much pride for my own good too, but I don’t hate you.” The look you sent him had a spark of mischief, and his breath hitched. “Strongly dislike, at best.”

Clay blinked at you, looking half-surprised and half-awed at you. You squirmed under his gaze before he snapped out of his stupor, almost bashfully ducking his head. “I’m… It’s definitely too late for me to say this now when I really should have said it all those years ago, but I’m sorry. Really. I was a dick.”

You snorted under your breath, fondly mumbling, “Yeah, you were.”

His face perked up at the sound of your bitten back laugh. “I really shouldn’t have teased you so much. My reasons were… dumb.”

You cocked a brow at him, almost as if to say, Oh? Do elaborate.

But instead, you watched as his ears burned crimson red and he flashed you a pair of bright, pleading eyes. “Forgive me? Please.”

Your heart leapt into your throat, something new and warm bursting along the seams of your lungs. You couldn’t possibly say no to a face like that. Even the toughest person on the planet would crack under a look as sincere as that, you tried to reason, ultimately letting out a sigh with a stammer.

“O-Only if you actually can get me to understand this unit.” Pushing down the heat creeping up your neck, you pointed at him with an accusatory look. “Until then, you’re on thin ice.”

The grin he sent you was beyond dazzling—you couldn’t have brought yourself to look away even if you wanted to.

(And you didn’t.)

“Gotcha.”

Clay finished scribbling a diagram onto the new page of your notebook, flicking his thumb back to reveal the hordes of previous pages you had filled with other practice problems. If you were being honest, you were a little envious of just how neat his drawings were. No one should be able to draw a line as straight as that without a ruler, yet here he was, doing exactly that.

What a show-off.

Feeling your eyes on him, Clay lifted his head to catch your gaze, turning the notebook to face you. You tried to pretend the stumbling of your heart wasn’t because of him—not at all. “Do you get it?” he breathed.

You glanced back and forth between him and your page, your grip on your pencil falling slack. “I think so,” you said slowly. “Mostly, at least.”

He hummed for a moment, then flipped your notebook around until it was facing him again and holding an expectant, open hand toward you. Without even thinking, you dropped your pencil into his palm, a spark running up your fingers at the slight brush of his skin against yours. Carefully, he wrote a string of words on a new line, circling the sentence when he was done.

“Here,” he said gently, pushing the pencil back between your fingers, “try this question. This was one of the harder ones from my test.”

Gingerly, you peered down at the page, and your mouth fell open at the sight. This question was far more complicated than anything you had been solving in the textbook before this. What was he thinking?

“If you get it right,” he said suddenly, casting you out of your thoughts, “you should be all set.” His lips curved up into a taunting, knowing grin. “But it’s okay if you don’t get it—it is difficult, after all.”

You stared for a second longer, then grumbled under your breath. How could he read your mind like that? You were going to prove him wrong, even if only to knock that smug look off his face.

Leaning down, you tackled the problem head on, your pencil flying across the page as you spelled out formulas and equations, doodling a diagram when you had to and pausing to think every other breath. Before you, you didn’t see Clay watching you with a soft, tender gaze, taking in the way your fingers fidgeted against your pencil when you stopped and how you chewed on your mouth when you got nervous.

You really were more endearing than you could ever know.

Suddenly, you let your pencil clatter against the table as you pushed your notebook toward him, eyeing your pencil scratches with a wary look. “Done.”

His viridian eyes gleamed with excitement. “Alright,” he said, plucking the paper from your desk with a practiced ease, “let’s take a look.”

His gaze scanned your work intently, his lips pressed together in focus. You folded your hands onto your lap, trying to focus on his analysis of you work. But the longer you looked, the more you felt your gaze trailing up to graze his cheeks. Did he always have so many freckles? You didn’t remember seeing him with this many as a freshman, but you also spent more time glaring at him than staring at him back then.

In a way, he was kind of... pretty. Handsome, even. Not that you would ever say it out loud.

You suddenly had a strong urge to reach up and trace feather-light lines between each of his freckles, but before you could even take another breath, Clay’s eyes were on yours again. Unlike earlier, the look on his face was grave, and a small grimace overtook his features.

“I have bad news,” he said dryly.

Your heart fell.

Of course you got something wrong. You were a fool to think that things would change just because Clay would be teaching you instead.

But then, his grimace curled up at the corners, and your jaw dropped.

“I have nothing left to teach you in this unit.”

Your eyes widened.

“I got it right?”

He turned the notebook back to face you. A large check mark had been scribbled in pencil along the side of the page, a tiny smiley face decorating the corner next to it.

“Perfectly.”

The gasp you let out sent you barrelling for your feet, and you nearly started jumping for joy in the middle of your seat. “Yes!” you cried, pumping a hand up in the air. Suddenly, you whirled to point at Clay, a pout forming on your lips. “Oh my god, you scared the crap out of me! Don’t do that.”

He chuckled, leaning back with his hands up defensively. “Sorry, sorry. I saw the opportunity and just had to take it.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you stuck your tongue out at him. “You’re terrible.”

His eyes softened—sincere and sweet. “I know.”

Ignoring the sudden burst of warmth rushing through your veins, you huffed at him. “Well, at least I have two pieces of good news for you. First,” you said, sliding your notebook off your desk, “we can both go home, now.”

“And the second?” he prompted, looking at you inquisitively.

You folded your notebook shut, boring a hole into your backpack with the intensity of your stare. You couldn’t look at him right now, you just couldn’t.

“Second,” you nearly whispered, “I accept your apology.”

Slipping your textbook into your bag, you heard him take a sharp intake of breath. “Really?”

You reached for your pencil case, fumbling with the zipper. “Yes.”

There was another breath, but this one was gentler, less harsh. You peeked up at him from your bag, and your heart stuttered at the ecstatic look on his face.

“This,” he said, “is the greatest day of my life.”

You blinked wildly at him, zipping your backpack up all the way before slinging it onto the desk. “That’s a little extreme, isn’t it?”

He shook his head, his smile never once faltering. “Are you kidding? I thought you were going to hate my guts forever!”

You shrugged, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “I might have.” You paused. “Actually, I probably would have. But luckily for you—” You shot him a sincere look. “—not anymore.”

His grin grew impossibly wider, yet it somehow still looked natural on him. Deep down, a part of you wanted to bottle up his expression and remember it for as long as you lived.

“Like I said, greatest day of my life.”

You giggled, rolling your eyes. “Weirdo.”

Pushing in your chair and gesturing for him to stand, you jutted your head toward the door. Clay didn’t need to be queued twice before he was rising to his feet, pushing the chair back to its rightful spot before heaving his duffel bag off the floor and onto his side. As the two of you headed out towards the door, a bought suddenly flickered across your head, and your lips began moving before you could even begin to think.

“One of these days, you need to tell me why you liked to pick on me so much. Like, seriously, why me?” You gestured to yourself as the two of you stepped outside into the school hallway. “I’m not exactly special.”

You hadn’t been looking at him in that moment, focused on closing the door behind you, but when he didn’t respond for a moment, you looked up and felt your lungs tighten. You had never seen Clay look so bashful in his life, with his ears flaring crimson red and a faint rosy tint dusting the panes of his cheeks. His freckles were only more noticeable with the pink background, and you nearly blurted something you knew you would regret.

“Maybe I’ll—” He coughed, rubbing the back of his neck with a smile. “I’ll tell you some other time.”

Before you could even ask what he meant by that, he was firing off once more. “In the meantime, if you still need help, I don’t mind coming in again next week or something.”

You nearly took a double take. Next week? He wanted to help you, again?

“Don’t you have more important things to do?” you asked, scanning him with wide, curious eyes. “Like studying your own stuff.”

“You’re important,” he said abruptly.

You choked on your spit, and by the way he went absolutely stock still in front of you, you had a feeling he hadn’t meant to say that.

“Oh,” you whispered.

That warm, fuzzy feeling from earlier was rising between your lungs again, only this time it sent your heart racing around your chest. Sucking in a deep breath, you nodded your head once, twice.

“Sure,” you managed to say as calmly as you could. “The, um, the next unit looks a little confusing, so I might need some help.”

Clay’s face suddenly brightened at your soft request for assistance, and you caught his shoulders slumping with relief as he smiled. “Awesome.” He paused, then waved his hand. “Not the part about you needing help, I mean.”

You laughed a little at that, your nerves calming a bit more. “I would hope not.”

He smiled back at you. “So,” he said, drawing out the syllable, “I’ll be back same time next week?”

You couldn’t help but reach over to elbow him a little playfully. “Try to be on time though, yeah?”

He flushed a bit, but cracked a crooked grin nonetheless. “I’ll try my best.” He glanced over his shoulder down the hall, and you suddenly realized you would be heading in the opposite direction.

“I’ll see you around?” he murmured gently, brushing away his now dry hair from his forehead.

One of your hands tightened around the straps of your bag while the other waved back at him. “See you.”

With one last grin at you, you watched as he turned on his heel, striding down the hall with his duffel bag bouncing against the side of his hip. Just then, your eyes grew wide, and you cupped your hands around your mouth to call after him.

“One last thing, Clay!” you shouted, your voice echoing down the empty corridor.

At the sound of his name, he whipped around again, his brows knitted together. Breathing in deeply, you screwed your eyes shut and called out once more.

“Thank you!”

When you opened your eyes again, his emerald green eyes were blinking at you with wild abandon, his lips parted in what could only be described as a look of pure wonder. Your heart skipped a beat, and you wondered why he was looking at you of all people like that.

Swallowing, he sent you a lopsided, earnest smile and cupped his own hands around his mouth to shout back at you.

“Anytime!”

You kept waving at him even after he let his arms drop back to his sides and he vanished around the corner of the hall. Almost immediately, you bent over to bury your head into your knees, letting out a soft, muffled yell.

Why did your chest feel so warm when he looked at you like that? Why did you want to count his freckles so badly when he smiled? Was he always so nice, so helpful and kind? Why did he look so cute when his face flushed all pink like the way it did before? When did he become so endearing instead of annoying?

Did you like him?

You let out another muffled cry into your hands, feeling heat flood every part of your body like a tidal wave crashing into your system. You could hear your heart ringing in your ears like a bell that wouldn’t ever stop, and your toes curled into your shoes.

You had so, so many questions, none of which you knew how to solve.

Hopefully Clay could help you figure out the answers.

610 notes · View notes

rafescoke · 3 years

Note

hiiiii!!

Can I please request a rafe x reader based on that song need to know by doja cat.

Basically the reader heard rumors about the rafe’s and he’s past with his ex. Basically all saying how he was a 10/10 on bed. The reader is furious but sad and quickly confronts the rafe. You can choose the ending. Smut or fluff ending!!

Also pls post the rafe x reader, jj fic with the 19 chapters plsssss!!!! I beg you!

Need To Know ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

#Part 1

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: The reader confronts Rafe about his past

Warnings: Straight smut, hella angst, substance, swearing, Rafe being a total dick

A/N: this one shot’s too long but i hope you will love it. i poured all my love into this however this isn’t my best work and im sorry!!

p.s, i’m always open for requests <3

“Hey! thanks for coming,” Topper smiled, hugging Rafe’s side before kissing (Y/N)’s cheeks. He ushered them both to the middle of the ongoing party, to the centre where all of Rafe’s friends were hanging out.

(Y/N) is never a fan of parties, especially the ones that she will have to tug on Rafe’s collars for them to finally enjoy the night alone. However, she passed up the chance of watching netflix with her partner tonight to go to Topper’s birthday party, since, it was, well, Topper’s celebration.

If it had not been for Topper, she wouldn’t even bat an eye to this party, especially when she knows the amount of girls silently crushing on her boyfriend of 6 months now. Rafe’s incredibly handsome, with his hair messily parted and his blue eyes shining everytime they’re exposed to the glowing sunlight of Obx. . . (Y/N) couldn’t justify why he would even choose her.

“What are you thinking?” Rafe playfully groaned, pulling his girlfriend’s waist near him. His fingers played with the hem of her dress, giggling when she hissed, swatting his hands away. “Seriously. You’ve been quiet since we got out of the car.”

“I just don’t like the attention’s you’re getting tonight,” she sighed, rolling her eyes when Rafe poked her, an amused expression plastered on his face. “I shouldn’t have told you that. Now you’re this proud prick.”

Rafe laughed, throwing his head back, his hands still around her waist. She waited for him to regain his posture before kissing his cheeks.

“Go and find Topper. I know you want to kiss him.”

“Not as much as I want to kiss you,” Rafe replied, laughing again when (Y/N) stuck her tongue out at him before walking away to go and get some drinks for herself. In truth, Rafe doesn’t understand why she would feel so inferior towards other girls; she’s simply the most beautiful girl he’ve ever laid his eyes on. No one can ever compare to (Y/N), and that’s for sure.

(Y/N) muttered a thanks when someone handed her a beer, standing on her toes to search for her friends. When she couldn’t see any of them, she began making her way towards Rafe and Topper. She decided that instead of waiting alone in the resting area of the club while everybody else is socialising, she would rather listen to whatever Rafe and his friends were conversing, knowing that somehow she’ll find something interesting in the discussion.

That was when she bumped into a figure, causing the person to drop the drink they were holding onto her front dress. (Y/N) groaned, not liking how she was already ruining the branded new dress she bought with Rafe. The smell of strong alcohol wafted into her nostrils, causing her to scrunch her nose.

“Watch where you’re going,” the person said, and (Y/N) rolled her eyes before finally leaving the scene, not wanting to stir any unnecessary drama. She knows it will always end up dirty and Rafe will have to calm her down in the car.

(Y/N) pushed her way through the swarm of sweaty bodies as the dress reeked with alcohol clung onto her body, and she momentarily regretted her choice of wearing a skin tight short sequin dress to a club where dropping drinks on someone is just something that is bound to happen.

She sighed when she finally reached the bathroom, quickly washing her stains with the cheap toilet paper. It left some white bits on her dress when she finally removed them, and she groaned again before washing the fabric under the running water. Her day was going totally bad, and she dreamed of the night she could’ve spent with Rafe if only Topper wasn’t born on yesterday’s date 19 years ago.

“That’s what I’m saying!” a loud voice shrieked, followed by group of shrill laughs. “God, I really wish I’m still with him.”

(Y/N) raised her brows at the familiar voice, but thought none of it. Topper wouldn’t invite Rafe’s ex, he knows what she did to him. There was no way she was allowed to be in the private part of the club, unless someone had brought her as their plus one.

(Y/N) shook her head at the thought, trying to focus on the stains that seemed to be making everything hard for her.

“He has this habit of running his fingers through his hair when he’s receiving head,” the voice continued, and (Y/N) stopped in her tracks.

That’s exactly Rafe. Whoever the voice was, she was talking about Rafe. Rafe has this habit of running his long fingers through his hair while he’s whimpering, and it always drives (Y/N) crazy.

She thought nothing of it, thinking about the possibility of another guy doing the same thing. It’s a common thing anyways; she wasn’t going to pull the crazy jealous girlfriend card that night.

She turned to pull another tissue paper, her ears still intently listening to the group of friends who seemed to not mind receiving any attention from their bold topic.

“Now he’s with that (Y/L/N) girl. I honestly don’t get why he would be with her. Oh and-” the voice squealed, “Do you know that Rafe called me when they were talking?”

What?

“What?” her friends asked in disbelief, and (Y/N) didn’t move a muscle. She pressed her back against the tiled walls, listening close. Her heartbeat beat faster, and she could feel her head getting lighter.

“Yes! It was like, the first month they started getting close? He told me he couldn’t get over me and that he tried everything including finding me in her.”

(Y/N) felt the walls closing in, and quickly got to her feet to splash some water onto her face. She felt like dying right then and right there, but she knew she had to at least hear more to, now identified, Rafe’s ex girlfriend.

“He drove to my house and we just talked, you know. . . and then he told me something, and I refused. He got mad, I guess, and we fought like always, and he left me to be with that girl until today. Kinda sucks to be her, you know? Like the second choice kind of thing?” she continued, an amused tone lacing in her voice.

At that point, (Y/N) had heard enough. She walked towards the exit as fast as her heels could take her, not stopping to stay goodbye to her now approaching friends. She could feel her hot tears crashing down, but she didn’t feel like crying in the club and having random strangers coming up to her to soothe her down.

When the night breeze hit her square on the face as she finaly exited the suffocating club, she let out the hardest cry ever as she tried to find any available taxis through her tears. There were none, seeing that it was only 9 p.m. and people had just starting to arrive, so she decided to walk to nowhere until she finds any yellow vehicle.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” a voice called out from behind her, and she turned when a hand pulled her shoulder. “What the fuck? Are you okay? Where’s Rafe?”

“Kelce, I’m not feeling good. I just want to go home, okay? Please, oh my god. I can’t do this right now,” she cried, covering her eyes with her palm. Kelce pulled her into a side hug, allowing her tears on his new t-shirt. When she finally soothed down, he tried to find an answer in her face again.

“What happened?”

“I can’t tell you now, I just-” she took a deep breath, “I just can’t. Can you um, call a Uber for me, please? My phone’s with Rafe.”

“What? Why would your phone-” he sighed, taking out his own phone. “Borrow my phone. It’s safer this way. Call a Uber, get home, and don’t do anything stupid. Okay?”

(Y/N) nodded, kissing Kelce’s cheeks before ordering a Uber, waiting by the sidewalk impatiently. She was scared Rafe would come out to look for her, and she didn’t feel like talking to him.

She felt like shooting him in his ribs until he’s begging for her to stop.

When she got home, her fingers trembling and her dress now ruined, she stripped out of her clothes and got under her covers. Her mother tried asking her about why she had come home earlier than expected with a running mascara and a smudged lipstick, but decided to let it pass when she didn’t answer, knowing that something has indeed happened.

She felt like screaming. She had trusted him so much, and he was even the first guy to take her virginity. Now she felt disgusted, thinking about how she had allowed herself to the sweet words he had given her before.

She couldn’t ignore the memory of the night she first experienced sex with him, and the whole sweet care he had provided after.

It was Friday the 13th, and Rafe decided it will be a good night to watch some type of a horror movie. (Y/N) agreed, being a fan of horror, but until one point, she was bored with the super-slow plot and boring characters.

She played with Rafe’s fingers, intertwining them with hers, before she got an idea midway of the female character’s scream that echoed throughout her bedroom.

“Rafe,” she said, and Rafe hummed in response. His eyes were fixated to the screen, not paying any attention to her. She whined, “Rafe. . .”

“Yeah?” He finally looked down to her, and laughed when he saw the face she gave him. “What the hell is wrong with you? The best part’s coming up. Watch it, the guy’s going to- fuck.”

(Y/N) had slipped her hand into his basketball shorts, teasing the outline of his v-line. Rafe’s breath shuddered, and he grabbed her hands before things escalate.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He grunted.

“I just wanna try something,” she replied innocently, and Rafe swore he felt like his heart stopping right then and right there. She was that sweet girl, and he has never saw this side of her.

“Can I?” she asked, and with a tiny nod, she continued her movements as Rafe’s eyes stayed glued on the television screen, though his mind was already on cloud nine.

She was so good, and Rafe couldn’t explain the feeling inside of him when he watched her palmed him, her mouth slightly open and her hair falling down to her shoulders. Rafe felt like attacking every inch of her, wanting to give anything that she desired.

“Stop,” he said, closing his eyes. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum from just your hands.”

“I want you to,” she said, and Rafe cursed. He liked, scratch that, he loved and is obsessed with the way she did anything to him, with her innocent eyes and her teasing smile. He felt like fucking her numb every single time she purposely brushed her hands against his buldge in the restaurant or bumping her bottoms against him when playing golf.

And when she would deny her actions, god, he felt like giving his all to her until she couldn’t walk.

“Rafe,” she said again, with that gint in her eyes. She leaned onto him, and he shievered when he felt her lips brushing with his earlobes.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Rafe groaned, not wanting to look her in the eyes, afraid that he would do things he will regret the next morning. He felt her fingers around his chin, forcing him to look at her.

“Please.”

“You told me you wanted to wait,” he said softly.

“I’m done waiting,” she had said, and that was enough for Rafe to crash his lips against her soft ones, pushing her lightly to her queen sized bed. He felt her hands playing with the hem of his shorts, and being an impatience fuck like his dad, he guided her hands to his already hard penis, craving for her touch.

“Fuck,” he groaned, closing his eyes to the euphoric feeling starting to form in the pit of his stomach. His fingers fumbled with her shorts, trying to untie the waistband, and grunted when he couldn’t gues the knot.

(Y/N) giggled, untying the ribbon, sliding her shorts to the edge of her bed as Rafe waited with his eyes staring at her hands eagerly, like a prey waiting to attack.

Once her shorts were off, Rafe didn’t waste anymore time to place kisses from her stomach down to the sides of her aching core. (Y/N) couldn’t take it anymore, after so many nights of trying to picture this exact moment in her head whilst fingering herself, pretending like it has been Rafe’s fingers instead of herself, she wanted to feel him around her so bad.

“Please, Rafe,” she begged, looking at him with the innocent eyes again. She moaned when he inserted his fingers in her, pleasuring her the way pornstars would from the many porn videos his cousin had taught him to watch since he was 10 before.

“Oh my god,” she screamed, not able to comprehend the strange feeling in her stomach. She tried to close her legs, only for Rafe to gripped them apart tightly, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Do that again and I’ll leave you hanging.”

It was the way he had said that that left (Y/N) all red, pushing herself against him to reach her end. She felt a sudden feeling approaching, and gripped Rafe’s wrist to tell him.

Rafe laughed when she had came around his dingers, feeling her juice soaking up his fingers and her bedsheet. (Y/N) sighed, still heaving from her high, making a mental note in her head to love this other side of Rafe Cameron.

“Suck,” he said, placing his two soaked fingers in front of her face and watched her as she sucked on them like a little girl who’s licking off a lollipop that her mother had bought for her. He felt like cumming just from the sight of her face.

“I want you inside me,” she had said again, and Rafe groaned to look away, not wanting to be a regret she had made the next morning. He looked at her again when she sat on his lap, looking at him with puppy dog eyes.

“Please?” she whispered, and before he knew it, she licked his ear to the the side of his lip before placing a soft peck on his lips.

Rafe has never removed his basketball shorts as fast as he did that night, not even when he had felt an animal crawling in his pants in the pet shop when he was 8 that resulted Sarah into having a laughing fit when they found out that a hamster had gotten into his pants.

He positioned himself in front of her slit, waiting for any new demands for him to stop now that she had changed her mind. But there was nothing, only (Y/N) demanding for him, and without wasting any more time, he slowly slided into her, strecthing her hole.

He grunted when she felt her closing in, knowing that if she kept doing that, he’ll finish straight away. (Y/N) screamed as he fucked her with a quick pace, causing him to quickly pull her head close to him to whisper into her ear.

“Shut up, princess. Don’t want mummy and daddy to wake up, do we?”

(Y/N) shook her head, wanting to reach her end soon. She moaned against her mattress, smelling Rafe’s scent from it, and liking the way he would whimper when he hit her g-spot.

“I’m so close, baby, fuck-” he cursed, his pace getting sloppier. His fingers with his cold rings intertwined with hers as he slammed into her for good measure, and pulling out to aim on her face as she tried to regain her breath.

(Y/N) felt a shot of hot load landing on her face as she finally looked up to him, his sweaty chest heaving from the ungodly practice they just did. Rafe groaned, feeling himself getting hard again from the sight of her with his load all over her, and quickly turned away to grab a clean towel to clean her up.

That night, with a soft lullaby playing from (Y/N)’s record player that Rafe had bought for her in Italy, he ran his fingers through her hair as she snuggled close, watching the moonlight brightened the ocean.

Rafe sighed, now wrapping his arms around her, forcing himself to not touch her breast in any way. “I’m sorry if it wasn’t what you had pictured in your mind.”

“Are you kidding?” she turned to face him, “God, Rafe. That’s exactly how I wanted it with you.”

Rafe chuckled and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, “God. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Riing! Riing!

(Y/N) wiped her tears with her fingers before pressing on the green button, bringing the phone to her ears when she saw Topper’s name. She decided that he deserved an explanation after she had ran off from his birthday party.

“Tops?”

“Hey, baby, you didn’t pick up my call. I have to use Topper’s phone but, um-” (Y/N) heard the crowd sang happy birthday, “But um, are you okay? Kelce told me you were crying and I-”

“I’m fine. You should sing happy birthday to Topper.”

“I’ll be there in a bit,” he said to a voice in the background, and tried to talk to her again. “What is it, baby? The line’s kinda shitty here. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Okay. I know you’re not. Can you please tell me what happened?”

“It’s nothing, Rafe. Go and enjoy yourself.”

“God, (Y/N), don’t pull this shit on me,” he sighed, and she waited until the background noise lessen. “Okay, I’m at the smoking area. Can you please tell me what happened?”

“You used me.”

“I’m - what?” he asked, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I heard her talking about how you drove to see her and you told her that you tried finding her in me,” she finaly confessed, her voice breaking. A tear slowly rolled down her red cheeks and she quickly wiped them away.

“Baby, it’s not how it sounds like.”

“Then what is it?” she yelled, clutching onto Kelce’s phone like it was her life support. “Fuck, Rafe, I gave you my everything.”

“Baby, I swear, it’s just-”

(Y/N) waited for him to finish his sentence, and sucked in a breath when she heard the voice that had caused her this misery.

“Rafe! What are you doing here?”

“Fuck, (Y/N), I’ll come by to your house, okay? Please, don’t do anything stupid, I’m coming back home-”

(Y/N) pressed the end call, letting go of the breath she was holding before finally throwing her head back against the pillow.

#Part 2

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#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron smuts #outer banks #outerbanks #outerbanks imagines #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smuts #outerbanks x reader

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