Akashi x Reader ~ Part 01More Like This
I walked along the loud, busy hallway with my binder held to my chest. People bumped into me here and there. Someone stepped on the back of my shoe and my foot slipped out. I stopped and looked back. I was being forced to move by the shoving of everyone.
“Uh! C-can somebody get my shoe please?!” I asked trying to yell.
It was no use. My voice compared to everyone else, was inaudible. My shoe got trampled on and kicked to the side. I heard laughter as someone said, “Who loses their shoe?” I bit my lip and continued to walk to my class.
When I entered, Hanano-san came up to me. She observed me from head to toe,
“Where’s your shoe?”
I sighed and walked over to my desk near the window.
“Someone stepped on it and my foot accidentally slipped out,” I mumbled.
She chuckled, “Really? That’s just sad, ____.”
I glared at her, “Well, didn’t you try getting it back?” she asked sitting down on the chair in fro
Training camp Aomine x Reader part 1More Like This
Wiping the sweat off your shaking body,you looked around for a moment before running again.You were currently in a training camp,and they were playing a game called Cops and Robbers.You were currently a robber,and had met some formidable cops on the way.
"Why the hell am I even in the game?!"You growled at Wakamatsu.You weren't a player,but Momoi had insisted on training the whole team,and you were somehow dragged into it.
"How would I know,god damn it!"Wakamatsu yelled."What the hell is with this team anyway?!"Momoi had spilt the team into parts.You,Wakamatsu and Susa were the robbers.For some weird reason,Daiki,Imayoshi and Sakurai were the cops.It seemed that nothing was wrong,but the strongest were all cops.
"For some reason,I think Momoi planned this."You grumbled.Susa had spilt up from you two earlier in the game,and you had heard him yelling when Imayoshi caught him.As the players were few,the rules were that each cop could only catch on
Slenderman.Stop.More Like This
He might hear you.
I am pressed against the wall. My fingers are spread as wide as they will go as my palms press heavily on the drywall. I take a deep breath. Hold it tight. I feel the air escaping my lungs, my circulation; my blood thinning of oxygen as I hold, one, two, three .
I hear Him slither down the hallway. His movements are languid, snake like, as He comes after me. I can imagine it all in my head: the long, thin arms, coiling around every turn and corner, searching for me. Have you ever noticed His face? His eyesor lack thereof? I have a theory. He doesn't have eyes because He doesn't need them. He hears things. Feels things. Smells things.
I exhale, slowly, hoping not to catch His attention. It's a fruitless thought. He knows where I am. He's only playing with me. A game of cat-and-mouse, where He is the cat, and I am nothing more than a rubber mouse hiding underneath old and rusty furniture. He will