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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago

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Roads Untraveled 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, pregnancy, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Single and pregnant, you discover a super soldier in the dumpster but he might not be hero you think he is.

[This is a rewrite of a series of the same name which I removed a couple years ago]

Characters: Silverfox!Steve Rogers

Note: I finally did this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

‘When he went away The blues walked in and met me Oh, yeah if he stays away Old rocking chair’s gonna get me All I do is pray...’

You sway to the melody as you wipe dry the last plate. You set it in the rack as Etta James’ soulful crooning wafts around the kitchen. Just the simple task of washing the dishes has you out of breath. You can no longer hum along as you’re suddenly light headed with sweat speckled across your brow. Even the breeze drifting in through the open window can’t cool the constant heat brewing within you.

You brace your lower back as you reach for the dish towel and pop open the cupboard. The music drones to silence as the next some in queue loads. Your rounded stomach presses to the counter as you take a mug and dry it inside and out. Strange, you don’t remember the song starting like that; the strange warbling noise much unlike Marvin Gaye’s rich tones.

You set the mug on the shelf and back up. Another noise peaks your attention, too tinny to be a snare. You rub your stomach mindlessly as you sling the cloth over your shoulder. You waddle across the tile to the folding table beneath the window. You tap pause on your phone and the bluetooth speaker goes silent.

Your fingers pick the damp fabric away from your bump. These days you can’t avoid getting soaked. Even as you can’t forget about the burden of your condition, you’re still oblivious to how it gets in the way until it does. You sigh as you listen for another clue.

A pained deep grunt floats up from below. Distant but decisive, another rustle beneath the unexpected noise. You lean over the table, a hand on the ledge as you push the pane higher. You bend, stomach pressed to the speaker, and peer down. You expect another dumpster diver searching for empties to trade in; rather you meet a most unexpected sight.

There is a man in the dumpster, alright, but he isn’t moving. From there, you can’t see very clearly. You squint at the figure strewn among the trash but the zigzag of the fire escape obscures your eye line.

You shouldn’t go and see. Not only is it a lot of effort, but it’s dangerous. You shouldn’t be wandering into alleys to check on strangers in dumpsters. You don’t know any good reason someone might be swimming in garbage. Nor do you think they would want to be bothered.

Still, the prickling in your neck urges you to do something. There’s just something so peculiar about the angle of the arm you can see clearer than the rest of the body. At least they’re moving, even if they sound agonized.

You take your phone and untether it from the bluetooth speaker. You unlock it and keep your thumb ready to dial out. You move as quickly as you can, not very, and waddles along the back of the couch into the entry way. You take your keys from the hook near your door and step into your cushy slides.

You turn back the latch and leave the door unlocked behind you. The slides shift on your swollen feet as you rush down to the elevator. God, your back hurts. You try not to lean too far back as it only adds to the pain. You need a belly belt but they’re so darn expensive.

You’re out of breath as you step on and turn to watch the numbers count down. You’re still panting as you reach the lobby and push through the front doors, leaning into the heavy grated iron until it creaks loudly. You clamour down the steps to even ground and your hips pang.

You put your hand under your stomach, trying to lift it and ease the pressure in your hips. You blow out between your lips as you have to slow down. You shuffle across the grass and into the paved lobby. The stink of the trash brings you back to those early days of morning sickness. And afternoon sickness. And night sickness.

You try not to inhale too deeply as you step between the brick buildings. You bring your phone up, ready to hit those three digits in a heartbeat. You should’ve done so already. Even if you do, it’ll take hours for anyone to come out here.

You stop and listen a few steps from the dumpster. You don’t hear anything now. You look up at the sky, dimming towards evening in a mixture of pink and blue, the moon peeking palely through the hue. You grip your phone tight, keys jangling with your movement as you continue forward.

“Hello?” You call out, “is someone in there?” You linger near the corner of the dumpster, the trash reeking in your nostrils, “do you need help?”

No answer. You stare up, wondering how you might see inside. If you weren’t built like a keg, you might be able to see from the lower level of the fire escape but you can’t even make it one rung. You blink and call out again.

“Hello? Are you okay?”

You wait for a response. Silence again. Maybe they found their way out on their own. You huff. So much for all that. All you’ve done is added to the pain in your arches. You turn on your heel and a groan gurgles and plastic crinkles noisily.

You stop again, wavering, and peer back over your shoulder. A hand appears over the tops of the dumpsters edge and grips it. You face the large metal bin as the knuckles strain within the stained brown leather, fingertips poking out nakedly, blood and dirty tinged across the flesh. A long grunt follows as the figure drags himself to look over the top.

“Sir, are you--” you begin, voice catching at the sight of the cowl and the man’s square jaw. The white star on his chest stuns you. It’s him. Everyone knows that uniform, that face, even under his helmet. New York’s own Captain America.

You gape as the super soldier strains and swings himself out of the dumpster with one arm. His other is hanging limply as his feet hit the pavement. His knees crack and buckle. He drops down onto them and hisses.

“Captain America?” You utter dumbly.

He puts his fist to the ground and leans on his arm. He hangs his head and heaves. He drags a leg forward, planting his foot, and makes himself stand. He pushes his shoulders back and winces, reaching to cradle his dangling arm.

“Steve,” he rasps, “goddamn.”

You don’t expect the obscenity. Not from him. He leans against the dumpster and turns his chin up. He gnashes his teeth as he grips his arm and jerks, moving the heavy bin with his effort. The pop of his shoulder is sickening as he growls tightly. He stomps his foot and as he shakes out the arm he just put back into place.

He reaches up and peels off his cowl as he puts his head straight. He looks at you as he wipes the streak of blood from lip to chin. His blond locks are streaked silver and his face is lined. He looks much older than the magazine covers and the TV screens. The magic of editing, right?

He swipes the sweaty hair from his forehead and huffs.

“Steve,” you rest your phone on your stomach, “are you okay?”

He pushes himself away from the dumpster and puffs, “I’m fine. Just... a hiccup.”

You stare at him. He looks tired and worn. You believe him when he says he’s okay. He's a super soldier and the world has seen his many feats. Yet he looks completely hollow.

“Are you sure? I could call someone or...” you step forward and point to the slash that borders chest and shoulder, “you should clean that out, shouldn’t you?”

He looks down and grimaces, “had worse. I got comms. HQ doesn’t care about a few scratches.”

He goes to step forward and stumbles slightly. He snarls and kicks his foot into the gravel. He wiggles his knee and bends to rub the joint.

“I...” your mouth opens and closes. This isn’t the man you’ve seen in the media. He's not smiling and golden and shining. Still, he’s the Captain. “I live above,” you gesture upward, “I could help... or maybe you can just... sit for a little bit. Get yourself straight?”

He looks at you. As if for the first time. His forehead smooths as the tension eases from his jaw. His gaze slowly crawls down to his stomach and you see the dimple in his cheek.

“Your husband okay with that? I’m a bit of a mess,” his tone is lighter as he fixes his grip on his cowl.

“Oh no, I don’t have--” you chew your lip and look at the brick wall, “it’s just me. But I have first aid kit and learned to stitch in summer camp. I think I can still remember how.”

He glances around and nods, “got a back door?”

“Yeah, it’s... past you,” you nod in his direction.

He pivots stiffly and cranes to see around the dumpster. You near him and your keys jingle again. You follow him to the metal door with the glass window and you shove the key in and twist. You pull it open a few inches. It’s heavier than the front door. He grabs it and wrenches it all the way back.

“Thanks,” you murmur. “There’s an elevator.”

“Hm, fewer people see me, the better,” he sniffs as the door clanks behind him.

“It might take me a while,” you warn, “I’m slow.”

“What floor. I’ll meet you,” he offers.

“Sure, it’s three.”

“Number?”

“310.”

“I’ll find it,” he states and marches towards the stair sign.

You go to catch the elevator, stewing in disbelief on your ascent. You step off and continue on to your apartment. He’s already there. He stands with his hand on the frame, looking over his shoulder as you waddle down the hall towards him.

“It’s unlocked,” you say.

He opens it and waits for you. You thank him as you enter and he follows. He locks it and lingers behind you. You put your hand to the wall as you slip off your slides. He gently lays his cowl on the corner table and bends to unlace his boots. You hang the keys on the hook and place your phone on the small table.

He leaves his dirtied boots on the mat and limps forward. You stand in the open doorway of the living room and peek back at him. He looks around reluctantly.

“Please, sit down,” you insist and wave through the doorway before you pass through.

“I...” he begins and you hear his uneven gait down the hallway. “I don’t want to dirty your couch.”

“I have a steam cleaner,” you assure. “Sit, I’ll get the kit.”

He stares, his eyes once more scanning the space. Does he think this is a trip? That you’re some covert agent who all too conveniently found him? That’s absurd. Look at you.

You shrug off that ridiculous idea and cross to the kitchen. You open several drawers before you remember it’s in the bathroom. Of course. Your brain likes to play games these days. You grab the metal tin from under the sink and return to Steve.

He pulls off his gloves and balls them on the side table next to the couch. You come around the other side of the couch and sit, leaving lots of space between you. You squeeze the kits as you’re once more out of breath.

“You okay?” He turns the question on you.

“I’m not the one bleeding. Just pregnant,” you smile.

You balance the kit on your stomach as you lean back. You sanitize a needle and weave it with surgical thread. You put that aside and fish out an alcoholic swap. You shift the kit aside and push on the back of the couch as you try to sit forward. You shake and he helps you, a humbling assistance.

“First,” you turn to him, “we’ll see how deep it is,” you tear open the swap, “can I...”

“One sec,” he dips his fingers into the fabric and tears the sleeve, renting the fabric like tissue. His arm is thick and well-toned despite the years. A centurion like him can’t complain for the shape he’s in, even battered. “I can do it myself.”

“Yes, but it wouldn’t be easy.”

You reach as he angles towards you. You gingerly dab around the gash and he tenses. He takes a sharp breath, “you don’t have to be so gentle. I can handle pain.”

“Right,” you work more diligently.

He’s quiet as you tend to him, picking out gravel and some metal slivers. You worry that you might miss some. You lean in closer and he steels himself at your proximity.

“So,” he clears his throat, “just you and...” the kid?”

“We all make mistakes,” you chuckle. You can only laugh about it, as scared as you are.

“Mmm,” he flinches as you sweep down the length of the cut. It’s not that deep, mostly superficial.

“Let me put some steri-strips on, shouldn’t need the stitches, ” you say as you sift through the kit with one hand, “if you’re hungry, I have leftovers. You like chicken?”

You don’t know why you’re offering. Maybe it’s because you owe him. Like everyone in the city. It’s your chance to give back to the hero who gave so much. Or maybe it’s because you’re so damn lonely talking to your own stomach.

“I should go,” he insists as you place a strip across the cut.

“Up to you,” you say, “I don’t mind either way, but I’m not going to chase Captain America out of ym apartment.”

He doesn’t say anything. You finish dressing his wound and gather up the wrappers and all. You crumple it in one hand and rock yourself to stand. You’re overly aware of him watching you. You touch your stomach and rub it, soothing your nerves. You find him watching the movement of your hand.

“You must be pretty far along,” he says.

“Six months. Chicken tortellini, if you want. I was gonna reheat some. I haven’t eaten since work.”

“Work?” He frowns and stands, moving better than before. “Should you be?”

“I’m at a desk. It’s nothing. HR got me some ergonomic stuff. Nothing compared to what you do.”

You put away the kit and toss the garbage. You wash your hands before you search out the container of pasta in the fridges. You sense him behind you, just in the wide archway that peers into the kitchen. You reach into the cupboard you left open and take the single plate that isn’t in the rack.

“So, you want some?” You ask.

He’s silent with contemplation, the shift of his weight creaks in the floor, “I appreciate it, yes, please.”

“I might have something you can change into,” you say. You wonder why you’re doing all this. Maybe it’s that maternal instinct kicking in. “The father, before he took off, left a few things.” You peek over your shoulder, “he was a bit smaller than you.”

He shrugs then winces at the careless gesture. “Do you mind if I wash up before I eat? I smell like garbage. I don’t wanna overstep--”

“Go ahead, it’ll take a while to warm this up,” you say.

Another long lull. He taps his fingers on the wall and inhales deep enough for you to hear, “promise, I’ll get out of your hair after dinner.”

“Please, take your time,” you say as you put the tortellini in a glass pan to rebake. He backs away and you sense his hesitation, “oh, down the hall, to the left of the bedroom at the end.”

“Thanks,” he intones, “oh, uh, just realised, you know who I am...”

Your brows pop up and you stop before you can put the pan in the stove. You look back at him and give your name. He nods.

“Pretty,” he comments, “also, it’s just Steve, not Captain.”

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #series #roads untraveled #silverfox au #au #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel #captain america #avengers

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arbitrarykiwi · 16 days ago

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IF YOURE OPEN TO IT MAYBE STREAMER SE-MI X FEM!READER!!!! I LOVED UR NAMGYU AND THANOS ONES AS WELL

Now Streaming...

Se-Mi Version

IF IM OPEN TO IT?!? WHEW BABY AM I?!?! I LOVE MY WIFE!!!!! hope you enjoy :333 I hope you like it !!!!!!!

Warnings: none, sfw, fluff, despite being sfw this blog is 18+

“I’m gonna go live, baby..”

You smile, bare feet pattering against the wooden floor of the apartment as you jog down the hallway. “‘M coming!! Wait for me!!” You call out, giggling and rushing into the office.

“Never would start without you.” Se-Mi says, turning around in her desk chair to face you, “wouldn’t be a good stream if you weren’t sitting all pretty on the couch behind me”

She’s opening her arms, beckoning you over. Never one to deny your girlfriend, you’re striding over to the space between her legs and wrapping your arms around her.

Instantly, Se-Mi is tightening her arms around your waist and pushing her face into your stomach, nuzzling into you like she’s trying to get into your skin, “mmm, you smell so good..” She hums, hands trailing down your back to grasp at your ass, pulling you into her even more, “good enough to eat~”

She bites playfully at your ribs, right under your bra, her teeth clenching around the fabric. In a fit of giggles you’re pushing away from her, grabbing her chin and shaking her head back and forth playfully.

Your thumb gently brushes over her bottom lip, playing with the sliver ring that rests against her pink, pillowy lips. “Ya got a stream to start soon, you can’t keep them waiting.”

“Mm, I suppose you’re right.” She responds playfully, lips puckering to place a kiss on the pad of your thumb. Tapping lightly on your ass, she’s spinning back around to face the monitor. “Go get comfy, beautiful.”

You’re walking over to the small couch against the wall, it’s out of frame but allows you to sit and watch both Se-Mi, the computer monitor with chat and whatever else she was doing for her thousands of subscribers and viewers.

“Annnnddd we’re good?” Your girlfriend’s voice echos out through the room, talking to the stream that eventually fills will with comments saying the stream was running well.

“Hell yeah, alright, it’s Thursday so we’re listening to music you guys send in to review it. I think we got some stuff already in queue-“

She does it effortlessly, attracting more viewers by the second and laughing along with the mass amounts of comments supporting her. This is one of the reasons why you always insist on watching her stream- the way she does it like it’s second nature to her, entertaining and engaging the viewers while having the widest smile possible. It’s adorable.

It’s odd, you think, maybe a trick of the blue light of the computer and the golden yellow hue of the ring light, but Se-Mi always looks so good. Her sharp features are accentuated by the light, her dark eyes shimmering every time she laughs with a wide smile at some comment by the chat, it even practically spotlights every time she plays with the lip ring that hugs her plush bottom lip.

Safe to say, she looks so fucking good. It’s a beauty that has your heart skipping a beat every time you watch her stream. Happy, laughing, completely in her element- it was such a good look on her.

And the chat always thought so too…but it seemed like this stream, with sleeveless shirt she had on that showed off the bandeau top she wore under ever so slightly when she raised her arms or turned to the side- the chat wasn’t nearly as tame as usual.

You couldn’t even fault them for it. She did look so good. The black choker she usually wears sitting so prettily on her neck, the silver jewelry in her nose and on her lip sparkling every time she turned her face, her outfit that showed off her waist and arms, and her hair that fell in her face just the slightest bit- oh yeah. You wanted to worship her then and there. So of course the devoted viewers thought so too.

But she was streaming- reviewing music that was submitted by the same chatters who are sending borderline obscene comments in the chat.

“Ohhh shit~” Se-Mi coos, nodding along to the beat of the submission someone had sent, “this is so good, I’m definitely adding it to my playlist.”

‘It should be !!our!! playlist’

‘Thinking bout that song and kissing her <3’

‘Omg her liking this song just makes her so much hotter’

You frown, just slightly as you watch the comments roll in from your spot on the couch, you’re used to it really- your girlfriend is hot- people are going to try and flirt. Normally, it made you proud. That was your girl!! The chatters could flirt all they want but at the end of the day you were the one riding her face- so jokes on them.

But something about the comments talking about song playlists with her and making out with your girlfriend to some song that doesn’t even come close to the handful of playlists you’ve made for her- it’s making something inside you tick with annoyance.

“Ohhhhh~ this reminds me of this artist I really like. Hold on, do you guys know this one?!” Se-Mi says excitedly, paying no mind to the comments or missing them completely (you weren’t sure). She’s leaning forward, face closer to the camera as she clicks through her shared Spotify screen.

She’s pulling up a band you showed her, a song that was your song. Your heart flutters. Even if Se-Mi wasn’t boisterous about your relationship with her, she always made sure to do something on stream that was for you, just for you. A slight nod to her favorite girl in the world, you.

Your frown is replaced with a small smile when the soft thrum of the song you know all too well begins to leak from the headphones she has on. Se-Mi turns a bit in the chair, looking over to you and smiling wide. She winks, a subtle motion that isn’t picked up on her face cam with the angle she was in- it was only seen by you- only for you.

You laugh silently to yourself and blow a dramatic kiss her way before she turns back to the computer set up. Goofy, wide smile on her face, Se-Mi goes back to reading the chat.

‘Omg stfu, she’s so cute.’

‘She’s so hot for knowing this band’

‘She definitely saw my DM recommending this! Ugh I knew I had a chance.’

Your face sours again, it was annoying that someone else seemed to think they showed your girlfriend the song you showed her.

“See I knew you guys would fuck with this one…” Se-Mi responds to the chat, “my girlfriend showed me this band when we first started dating.”

The way she says it, it flows so easily. Anytime you hear Se-Mi call you her girlfriend you feel like you’re being confessed to all over again. And for her to do it on stream and after someone thought they had even the slightest chance- Your smile is widening and your heart is skipping a beat.

Your eyes flick back to the chat, it’s instinctive at this point, you wanna know what the viewers are saying to your precious girlfriend.

‘She has a gf?!? Ugh rip.’

‘All the pretty ones are taken :(‘

‘Omg yall didn’t know she had a gf?! She’s literally so pretty, se mi deadass posted on her ig.’

The frown that was forming once more turns back into a smile seeing the most recent comment (given it’s removed from view seconds later with more chatters), seeing it makes you so happy. You two were public but private- so it made sense that some of the newer viewers that came from her popularity boom recently had no idea who you were.

Se-Mi chuckles, nodding in agreement to the comment you were happy about. She never paid attention to the flirting or the attempts at trying to get with her- she was more than happy with you and no comment from some random faceless (viewer or anything for that matter) could take her eyes away from you. She was completely and utterly devoted to you.

“My baby is so pretty isn’t she? She literally is so beaut- OHHHH MY LOORDDD! Guys, she bought me the signed, handwritten, lyric sheet from that artist I mentioned, you know the one I did a whole album review on last week- yeah! That artist!” Se-Mi cuts herself off, unintentionally, to boast about you.

“I mean like…I don’t even know how she found it, but it’s handwritten lyrics from my favorite song signed by the artist! She’s the fuckin’ best.”

You’re sat on the couch, smile so big your cheeks are hurting. It’s not often she talks about her private life or you so openly, she prefers to keep her private life her private life…but she can’t help herself sometimes. So every so often on streams, like now she’s ranting about her love for you and how great you are!

“Oh! Damn, my bad guys, the song ended…I’ll give that one probably a 6/10- like its good but compared to the first one of the album it wasn’t as good. Plus we still have 5 songs to get through so I don’t wanna get a head of myself.”

And just like that, she’s falling back into line with her music reviewing. It was cute- anytime she ranted about something she was passionate about, be that you or music, she gets this adorable smile on her face and her eyes light up, she starts talking with her hands too- it makes your heart melt.

“Next song!” She’s cheering, clicking play and sitting back in her chair to listen intently.

You curl up on the couch, pulling the blanket over you body and settling in much like her, leaning back and listening to the soft echo of the song out of her headphones and the sweet sound of her voice commenting on the songs.

Every so often your eyes drift back to the monitor, catching the chats responses. And for the most part, they’re friendly supportive comments that make you happy she has such a great community.

But with being an online personality…not all comments are just friendly.

‘I’m telling you let this one land and you’ll like it, the intro is just weird’

‘I can’t believe you gave the last song a 6 :( rip’

‘Your gf is so cute for that gift omg. Talk about soul mates.’

‘What gf? I looked at her ig and there’s not a pic of her’

‘Oh I found it….so far down. Must not be serious….sooo heyyy ;)’

Your eyebrows furrow, your breath hitches, you try not to be upset- you’re painfully aware that this random person has no chance with your girlfriend but reading it still doesn’t feel good. It also makes you mad for her…she’s trying to do what she loves and she’s being practically objectified by random commenters.

Se-Mi doesn’t even intend to read that message, she just happens to catch it. It’s a reaction that’s engraved in her. She’s immediately pausing the music on stream and spinning her chair to the side to face you.

“C’mere.”

You look to her confused but she’s beckoning you over with her hand, “C’mon!! Wanna show you off for a minute, humor me.”

She’s smiling at you so wide, eyes shining with an admiration you could never get tired of seeing- you have no option but to oblige. You’re standing up from the couch and walking over to her chair. Se-Mi wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer, making sure you’re in frame- then she’s pulling you to sit on her lap, arms wrapping around your waist and squeezing you.

“So yeah! She’s literally the best! I don’t know how she knew what song to get me the lyric sheet of, I swear I’ve never told her-“

“You play it all the time Mi-Mi. Of course I know it’s your favorite without you telling me directly” You giggle, saying the nickname that she only allows you to call her, her cheeks flushing a soft pink like they always do when she hears it.

Se-Mi is groaning playfully and hiding behind your back, knowing she’s about to get teased by her chat for being so soft for her pretty lil’ girlfriend.

“Awhhh come onnnn~” she’s groaning playfully nuzzling her face into your back before pulling away and reappearing in frame when she’s leans back to the side. Her eyes flick through the chat- making sure no one is saying anything mean about her baby.

‘Lolllllll!! Is it still ‘not serious’ now?! Omg ban that one chatter plz.’

Se-Mi laughs and nods in agreement with the commenter, “yeah funny they should even try to say it’s ‘not serious’ when I have a tattoo of her lips somewhere on me that I can’t show you all per twitches terms of service.”

You’re pushing her playfully, squealing and covering her mouth, “Shhh, ohmygod, you guys didn’t hear that.” You say looking into the camera with a pleading look.

Se-Mi shakes free from your grip and places a soft kiss on your fingers before taking your hand in her own, “so yes, it’s very serious, always has been and definitely always will be.” She says to the chat but she’s looking up at you with the most lovestruck grin on her face.

Taglist: @namsgyu @nuttybeans @namgyucat @g1rlonth3intern3t @reilapse @yuuumeee

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nashusglasses · 1 month ago

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💪🏻&🥶 + zayne pls and thank u queen

Hi Sam ily!!!!!!! thank you for giving me a reason to revive wife guy Zayne who gets turned on when you mention the fact that you have a mortgage together LOL

send me an emoji + a lads man for a drabble! 🌞

For the seventh time tonight, Zayne declines the groom's offer of a sip of his whiskey neat. Never mind the shit taste; he promised himself he'd be completely sober the rest of the night, and the pineapple juice the bartender offered him was as satisfied as he was going to get.

He watches the bride take her nth shot. Then he sees you chasing her around the dance floor with a water bottle but failing miserably to get her to drink it down. Even worse is the DJ queueing up Bottoms Up by Trey Songz, and suddenly you're lost to the throng of drunk dancing and the bride violently shaking ass.

Zayne laughs quietly to himself, comparing the image of her now to three hours earlier: she was such a pearl, exchanging vows with tear-kissed eyes in front of the calm sea. He's glad to see her having the night of her life after witnessing—once again—the horrors of wedding planning. (His two responsibilities were keeping the rings safe and saying his best man speech. He guesses such important tasks warrant a congratulations shot from the bar, but whiskey neat? He inwardly cowers at the thought of the taste.)

You, however, aren't faring quite so well.

You catch him outside the reception hall a while later, sending his mom a text telling her his speech went well. "Zayne? Are you busy?"

The first thing he notices: the extra weight you're putting on your right leg, and Tara carefully balancing your arm around her shoulder.

He instantly puts his phone in his pocket. "Are you alright?"

You give him a sheepish smile, like you're afraid of a scolding. "I may or may not have twisted my ankle trying to have a dance-off with a baby."

"A baby," he repeats in disbelief.

"It was my niece," Tara snorts. "You think you got her? I need to call Andrea a ride, she's passed out at the sweetheart table."

Zayne briefly recalls a bridesmaid lain akimbo on the chairs. "Of course."

As soon as Tara's passed you over to Zayne's side, she's scurrying back into the hall with a quick feel better! He has to lean down as you hook your elbow onto his shoulder, suddenly very aware of your proximity and scent. Sea salt. Bergamot and jasmine. Something unattainable at the moment. "Do you think you can help me walk back to the bridal suite?" You ask. "I left my sandals there. I'm done with these heels."

You point to the small lakeside house just past the outdoor bar and the ceremony grounds. It's a one-minute walk at most, but Zayne doesn't want to risk your ankle swelling up into a balloon. He knows you'll refuse him, so he's quick with it.

"Wha—Zayne!"

He adjusts his hand under your knees, cradling the other under your shoulders. Your arms wrap around his neck with a nervous grip. He thinks he feels you shiver. "Are you cold?"

"Maybe." You don't make eye contact with him as he starts walking. "Oh my god this is so embarrassing."

"Now why would you say that?"

He's almost miffed that you're questioning his intentions. He hasn't had a chance to have a conversation with you that wasn't about being on schedule for wedding performances. (Weddings have a funny way of revealing all the mushy parts stuck inside you, and you of all people would know this. You nearly cried your foundation off during the father of the bride speech.) "Zayne," you say in warning, watching the bartenders you pass by snickering to themselves, probably thinking you're too drunk to walk.

He sighs. He's gonna need to bring out the big guns to get your guard down.

"I know," he concedes. "I just missed my wife so much."

You barely suppress your body vibrating with another shiver. "You piss me off so bad."

"And I have every reason to drop you. Here. Right now." The cement pathway to the suite is a very dangerous threat to your very vulnerable butt. "Say that again."

You huff, curling your hands into his neck in veiled threat. You don't say anything. The rest of your ten-second walk to the suite doors is cloaked in your silent defeat. You only talk once he's got you inside and seated on the lounge chairs, the place still messy with makeup palettes, matching bridesmaid pajamas you'd all left haphazard to get into procession. There's a random hair extension lying limp on the floor.

"This is gonna be a bitch to clean up later." You loll your head back, closing your eyes as Zayne props your bad ankle up onto a couch cushion he grabbed. "I take it back. You don't piss me off that bad anymore."

Zayne smiles, sits down in the lounge chair next to yours. He's also tempted to sink into the softness like you do. "We should think of our vow renewals soon," he says.

"We've been married for three months."

"I like to think of our prospects."

"We should probably pay off our mortgage first."

Zayne feels a zap rip down his spine. He'll be the last to admit it, but witnessing your life become intertwined at the barest bones of incoming mortgage payments and hydro bills has transformed him into something new. Something changed. A husband who takes care of his wife.

"You look very beautiful tonight." He watches you peek an eye open at him. The air conditioner of the suite whirrs to life. You smile tiredly.

"And you're very handsome," you answer back. "I kinda like being married to you."

"Good."

He leans over, kissing your lipstick off.

"I kind of like being married to you, too."

#lads #lads x you #lads x reader #lads zayne #zayne x reader #zayne #lads x y/n #nashusglasses fic

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backtothefanfiction · 3 months ago

Text

Emergency Contact | Professor!Parker

Summary: a drunken night at a bar leads to an unexpected saviour.

Warnings: 18+ Only, drunken escapades, smut, oral (f receiving), playful banter, fluff, forbidden romance

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: this has been a long time coming but it’s finally here. Thank you @sincericida for that latest professor Parker picture post, it was the final incentive I needed to get this finished. I finished this and am posting it from my phone so haven’t sorted a tag list sorry, so be sure to reblog if this is your bag to help reach everyone who loves Professor!Parker! Thank you, enjoy!

Three

Standing in the queue for the bathroom, you knew that last drink had probably been one too many. Finally sat staring at the back of the cubical door you figured maybe it wasn’t the last one, but maybe two. Washing your hands in the sink, unable to keep eye contact with yourself in the mirror, you know it was actually three- but it was too late now, the damage was done, you just had to hope you could see through the rest of the night with your friends and get home safely.

But when you got back from the bathroom you couldn’t find them. You checked the bar, the dancefloor- even the outside smoking area, they definitely weren’t here anymore. Uhhh fuck!

As you stumbled back towards the bar one last time, your eyes glassy, limbs wobbly and head foggy, you weren’t even sure you had looked properly or not, but either way, you were way too drunk now to care.

“Hey, hey. You alright?” Someone asked as you swayed slightly and bumped into them.

“Yeah… No.” your lipped wobbled as you tried to focus on the kind eyes of the stranger. “I’ve lost my friends and I’m way too drunk and they were my ride and I’m all out of money and don’t know what to do.” You began to ramble, a sense of hopelessness and panic setting in.

“Okay, okay, alright, alright, don’t cry. Let me help you. Is there someone I can call? Do you have an emergency contact set up or something?” He asked as you got out your phone and began to fumble with it but you really couldn’t focus on the phone. Gods you felt awful. Who let you drink this much?

“Here, let me. Who do you want to call?” He asked as he held your phone up to your face to unlock it for you and immediately got up your contacts.

“Uhh I don’t know!!” You groaned frustratedly as he began to scroll through your contacts looking for an indicator in their listed name as to how helpful they would be.

His thumb quickly stopped the scrolling text on the screen- you were only half focused on- as he spotted a note next to a name and immediately hit dial. As he held the phone to his ear, you once again groaned and flopped into the nearby wall in frustration, your eyes growing heavy. You just wanted to sleep.

“Hi… yeah no I’m with her at the Lavender Room… no her friends abandoned her and in her phone it says to call this number in case of- yeah.” You had no idea who he’d called and who he was talking to. You were just glad he was a decent person and hadn’t tried taking advantage of you. Gosh you were so gonna kill your roommate when you found her.

“Okay- yeah, I’ll wait with her outside.” The stranger said before he hung up the phone. “Your boyfriend or whatever is coming to get you.” He said loudly over the music to you to get your attention as he handed your phone back to you.

“My boyfriend?” You frowned because as far as you knew you didn’t have one of those.

“I mean friend or whatever. I dunno it had hearts next to the name and said call in case of emergency so I just assumed.”

Hearts next to their name. Call in case of emergency? What was this guy on about? You didn’t have anyone like that in your contacts.

“Come on. Have you got all your stuff? I told him I’d wait with you outside for him to pick you up.”

What? Who the hell had he called? Who was picking you up? Your thoughts wrestled with themselves all missed hits and thumbs as you were guided outside into the cool night air, the sounds of drunken revellers on the street around you only adding to the haze.

You weren’t left to stand there with your would be rescuer for long, but still long enough that a chill set into your skin and small bumps of goose flesh to pop up on the tops of your arms and backs of your thighs. The fresh air also wasn’t helping your situation. If you had felt drunk before when inside, you really thought you were gonna black out now, your eyes growing heavy as you waited.

You didn’t even open them at the sound of the car door that opened and slammed. “Gareth, right?” A familiar voice carried through the air to you but your brain was functioning way too slow to pin point who it belonged to.

“Yeah.” The man stood beside you answered, as you fought to open your eyes and work out why that voice sounded so familiar.

“Thanks for calling.” The voice said.

“No problem.”

“I got her from here.” The voice said as your vision finally focused and you were met with the gaze of your favourite Professor. You couldn’t help the smile that formed on your face and the glow that emanated from your chest and cheeks at seeing him. “Come on Trouble, let’s get you in the car and get you home.”

“Wait-“ you said hesitantly as you let him lead you a couple steps forward to the awaiting car at the side of the road as your earlier questions were finally getting answers. “Did you make yourself my emergency contact in my phone?”

“Yes, I did, now get into the car.” He said slightly impatiently.

“But I-“

“Y/N get into the car.” He said firmly but not threateningly. He very rarely used your name unless in formal situations and although you wanted to continue pressing him on this issue, you knew out here in the open for everyone to see you both was not the best place- even if your drunken brain wasn’t working properly and really didn’t care. But a twisting feeling of fear in your gut moved you forward and you climbed into the passenger seat as he went to the driver's side door.

“Don’t do that.” He said as your fingers reached to roll down the window, “it’ll only make you feel worse.”

You groaned but relented, words not reaching your lips as you instead let your head fall against the cool glass of the window as he started the car.

You knew his place wasn’t far from here, but somehow you still managed to drift off in the passenger seat, only stirring when the engine cut out. You tried to fight off the heaviness in your limbs as you listened to him get out of the car. You only just managed to channel enough energy into your limbs in order for you to stop yourself from falling out of the car when he opened the passenger door.

“I think someone might have spiked my drink.” You said to him as he reached into the car to help you up.

“Trouble,” his voice chastised you, “if someone had spiked your drink, you wouldn’t be conscious enough to even tell me you thought someone spiked your drink.” He reasoned, lifting you from the car and into his arms. “I think you are just good old fashioned drunk.” A slight amusement tinged his words.

You groaned again as you let him fold you into his side. His warmth radiating through you.

“I’m tired.”

“Yeah, well, help me get you upstairs and into bed and you can sleep to your hearts content.” You could hear the teasing smile in his tone and it melted your heart. You were a damsel in distress and he came running to save you like your very own white knight.

“Mmmm I love you.” You mumbled as you let your head rest against his shoulder.

“Yeah, I know.” He said with a slight chuckle, dismissing your drunken confession before you could dig yourself more of a hole.

You felt the temperature change around you as you made your way inside, your legs wobbling with every step. Your eyes struggled to focus, the white walls of the apartment block hallways too blinding and bright. You practically tripped up the last step as he guided you to his floor and he caught you before you could go flying into the door.

“Just come here.” He said with a slight huff as he propped the door open with his body and you stumbled into the door frame.

“My legs won’t work.” You moaned like a child.

“Yeah, I can see that.” He joked. “Come here.” He said and you leaned your body back towards him. He lifted you quickly and with ease, your arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders to keep yourself upright.

Now in the safety of his arms you let your body relax, your eyes closing as you nuzzled yourself against his neck. You let the scent of him envelope you. It felt so familiar now and made you feel safe and before you knew it you were falling asleep again.

————————————————————————————

You woke the following morning with your head protesting and your tongue feeling like sandpaper. You tried to find any moisture in your mouth to swallow it away, but it was a completely failed mission. Your mouth wasn’t the only thing that was dry. Your eyelids felt fused to your eyeballs and just the idea of opening them felt like the same amount of energy needed to climb Mount Everest.

Instead you let your hands be your guide. You spread them out around you, trying to feel out your surroundings. When your hand searched to its left and you felt the bed keep going you knew you weren’t back at your place.

“Uuuhhhggg.” You groaned as you reluctantly sat yourself up, your fingers rubbing desperately at your eyes so you could see where you actually were. Trying to recall the events at the end of last night felt like a blur. You had a vague recollection of coming out of the bathroom and talking to a guy at the bar, but nothing was really clear. You just hoped to all Gods right now you weren’t waking up in a stranger's bed.

When your eyes finally adjusted to the light of the room you felt a wave of relief move through you as you recognised the familiar view of Peter’s room.

“Ahhh sleeping beauty is finally awake I see.” He mused, as he made his way back into the room.

“Uuuhhhh, what time is it?” You asked as you began to look around for your phone.

“Your phones on charge in the living room.” He supplied for you, knowing your routine so well now after weeks of you having sleep overs at his place. “And it’s almost half 1.” He added, answering your original question.

“How long have you been up?” You asked, your voice raspy and your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth.

He slowly pointed to your right and you followed his direction to find a glass of water on the bedside table waiting for you.

“A couple hours.” He said.

“Uhhhg, you had breakfast without me didn’t you.” You said, slightly resentfully.

Weekend breakfasts had become your thing. It was the only food Peter felt confident enough to cook for you. His main meals consisted mostly of sandwiches or ready meals and frozen pizza, so cooked breakfasts on a Sunday morning were his equivalent of a nice meal for you both. After all, with your relationship a secret, he couldn’t very well just take you out to a fancy restaurant whenever he wanted.

“Yes. But I can still cook you something up. Why don’t you go take a shower and freshen up while I get everything on the go.”

“Okay.” You agreed as he turned and left the room and you gingerly pulled yourself from beneath the bed covers and dragged yourself into his en-suite.

The hot steam worked wonders on your sinuses and as you scrubbed your body with his lemon grass and sandalwood body wash, the fog in your head began to lighten too. As you lifted your foot to scrub between your toes you spotted a faint bruise across the top of them, the memory of kicking the top step in the stairwell slowly returning to you. As you continued to wash the suds from your skin, you followed that memory like a ball of yarn, connecting the dots from the night before.

He had come and picked you up. There was a guy at the bar. Your friends left you.

You pulled yourself from the shower, wrapping a warm towel around your body before going back out into his bedroom to get dried and dressed. You spotted your phone on the bedside table next to the glass of water, which you chugged down now in desperation to quench your thirst.

Your phone. The guy had called him from your phone, you remembered as you picked it up and turned it on. You immediately spotted multiple messages from your roommate wondering where you were and asking you to call her the moment you could, but you swiped past them, seeking out what it was you were truly looking for. Your contacts.

You scrolled down until you found what you were looking for. 💕PBT💕 (ICE). You smiled PBT, Professor Brat Tamer. ICE, In Case of Emergency. You had seen the term knocking about online but had never actually thought to put it next to anyone’s names. Your parents were in your phone as Mum and Dad respectively, clear indicators to anyone of their importance to you. But they were also half way across the country from you now you were at college and no good to anyone if there was a real emergency.

“You changed your name in my contacts.” You said as you came out of his bedroom dressed in a pair of his boxers and a T-shirt a few minutes later, the smell of toast and eggs permeating the open living kitchen space that made up the rest of the one bed apartment,

“I did.” He confirmed, turning his body towards you, a wooden spoon in his hand. “And good thing I did too.” He added as you moved towards his fridge in a hunt for orange juice.

“When did you do that?” You asked as you grabbed a glass from the cupboard to pour your drink into.

“A couple days ago. Surprised you didn’t notice sooner.”

“I normally just look for the hearts,” you admitted as you took a seat at the small dining table to watch him as he finished up your food. “I mean, your the only person in my contacts with hearts next to their name.”

There was a beat of silence between you as he began to plate up your food and you finally responded to your roommates earlier messages.

“How’s your head?” He asked as he placed the plate of eggs, sausage and mushrooms in front of you.

“It’s been better.” You said.

“It’s a sign you’re getting older.” He chastised as he brought his own plate of toast over. “You should wait until you get to my age. The hangovers get significantly worse.”

“So that gives me about… 8 years before I’m classed as old.” You mused and he chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah. Eat your eggs. They’re getting cold.”

“Okay, Dad.” You sassed before taking a forkful of egg into your mouth.

“Hey, less of that.” He chastised playfully,

“What? You made yourself my emergency contact, brought me home and put me to bed and then made me breakfast when I woke up. Seems like something a Dad would do to me.” You said, poking the bear.

“Really? Well I don’t think your Dad would touch you like this while you’re eating said breakfast, do you?” He said, leaning forward and placing his hand on your bare knee, before running it up the length of your thigh and cupping your sex. “You know what’s really good for curing headaches?” He asked, his fingers slowly beginning to circle your covered clit.

“No.” You exhaled slowly, your fingers losing their grip on the cutlery in your hands as your whole body relaxed under his touch.

“Orgasms.” He said, his eyes narrowing on yours hungrily.

“How so?” You asked, both playing along but also interested to know how he came to that conclusion.

“It’s just science. Orgasms flood your brain with good endorphins which in turn relax your muscles in your body, including your brain,” he said tapping a finger to your forehead whilst his other hand continued to make dizzying circles between your legs, “thus alleviating the tension and ridding you of your headache,” he said confidently and you had to admit, his logic was rather compelling. “And failing that,” he said, as he pushed his chair back and began to get down on his knees between your open legs, “it’s just a good distraction to take your mind off of it,”

You hummed contented, almost purring like a cat as you felt the familiar touch of his fingertips slide up the length of your thighs, before hooking into the waistband of the underwear and pulling them down. Your hips lifted instinctively to allow him to do so easily. As he rid you of the pants, his fingers tossing them away somewhere across the floor. You shuffled the chair back further from the table, your breakfast completely forgotten about as you shifted forward on the seat of the chair to give him easy access.

You continued to hum in delight as he immediately began feasting between your legs, his tongue and lips skillfully pulling one contented sigh after another from your lips. Your head tipped back, your fingers moving to card through his fluffy hair and keep him in place.

Before long your knees were shaking and you were making a terrible mess on his seat. “How’s your head now?” he asked as he looked up at you, his fingers wiping the remnants of your orgasm from his beard.

“I don’t know,” you said playfully, “I think it’s still there. Maybe another one…?” You teased and he laughed.

“Finish your breakfast,” he said, getting up from the floor, “give the medicine a chance to work and then maybe,” he said, grabbing for a triangle of buttered toast from your plate and placing it in his mouth, “maybe, we can up the dosage,” he concluded, biting into the slice of bread with a wink. “Oh- but only if you’ve finished that essay I set.” he added as he began to walk back to the kitchen to wash up and groaned. You knew the afternoon had seemed too good to be true.

#peter parker #andrew!peter parker #professor!peter Parker #professor Parker #tasm!peter #tasm peter parker #peter parker smut #andrew!peter x reader #Peter Parker x reader #Peter Parker imagine #professor!au

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princessbrunette · 1 year ago

Note

the reader being jealous like rafe 😩! that song “i’ll kill you” by summer walker and jhene aiko, she does not play about her man at allll

♡₊˚ 🔪✧˚.🎀⋆₊⊹♡

rafe simply trying to sell a baggie of coke to a girl who you deem looking at him too much, standing too close, smiling too often — you have no choice but to speak up.

“oh my gosh, can you back up a little bit? i’m right here you know.” you suddenly explode, half way through rafe talking her through the price list. he shouldn’t be talking her through anything. that’s reserved for you and you only, and right now you should be getting talked through an orgasm but instead you’re at this dumb ass party with rafe trying to make a quick buck.

the girl backs off pretty quickly, losing interest all together and floating away to another guy and you then and only then feel just a tad ashamed. rafe tongues at his cheek, turning his body to face you. you feel yourself shrink as he looms over you, irritated glare.

“you happy? threw your little fit n’cost me a customer.”

“she was never gonna buy, she— she just wanted you—”

“who cares, oh my god— who the fuck cares?” his eyes widen, whisper yelling at you to not cause a commotion. you feel your lip start to wobble and you take that as your queue to leave, but instead he grabs your wrist, licking over his lips in frustration and backing you into a corner so he was covering you from the rest of the party. “hey. can you— babe, what is with you? am— am i giving you any reason to get jealous? huh?” he chases your gaze when you evade it, even bending at the knee a little to be more at your level.

“you weren’t tellin’ her to back off.” you whine, swinging your arms by your side childishly. he sighs, standing up straight and closing his eyes for a moment, rubbing at his forehead.

“alright, okay. can’t go… picking fights with random ass chicks that i’m tryna make money off though. take it up with me. after the deals done. or i’m gonna stop bringing you to these things. you— you can’t handle it.” he scolds and your eyes widen, shaking your head. if he was gonna sell, you’d rather be there to oversee it. “no? yeah, i didn’t think so. start actin’ right.”

you sigh, dejected and he takes pity on you after a minute of sulking, coming to your side and wrapping an arm around you. “i’ll only approach guys, if it makes you feel any better. yeah?”

“yeah.” you nod pathetically and he begins to walk you back towards the rest of the party.

“okay. the fuck were you gonna do to that girl anyway, huh?”

“kill her.” you seethe and he laughs, but it’s not mean spirited, infact you feel him tug you closer.

“you’re not gonna do shit, little psycho.”

you could tell him that the nickname was rich coming from him, but you’d decided you’d flaunted enough bad behaviour for the night.

♡₊˚ 🔪✧˚.🎀⋆₊⊹♡

#anon #rafe cameron prompt

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tategaminu · 1 month ago

Text

I wasn't going to say anything but at this point I'm not only disappointed and sad‚ I'm also mad.

Me and other few people got called names ("butt likers of the popular blog" even tho some of them are barely in the TDP fandom) by anonymous blogs that aren't brave enough to insult people with their main blog‚ and got piled into the anti category. Having different opinions or wanting a discord to be only positive because you don't enjoy negativity with your fave show is completely valid and not anti behaviour so I'm starting to think proud pro-shippers are just as bad as antis tbh. Kinda tired of seeing them treating you as anti the moment your opinions don't align with theirs.

I'm very happy that Jelzorz got friends that defend her! Having quality friends is important‚ I just wish they didn't insult anyone by doing so‚ you can defend your bestie and still be classy by doing so. At the same time BNF having friends that defend them is totally fine as well! Not everything is about popularity‚ you can have genuine friends you aren't a "hypocrital sycophant" for defending a friend and standing by what you believe is right. Wouldn't calling someone names over standing up for a friend would make you an anti as well? Be fr.

At first I just expressed my beliefs that leaking private DMs isn't alright but then changed my tone when certain person entered the picture because because I know how they act in online spaces and I was sick of them. (The amount of times me and other people have been mansplained by this person because they believe they are the ultimate proshipper and fandom expert can't be count with both hands.) So the moment this person joined I know what this was about. It's not only about defending a friend‚ it's about getting rid of the antis they hate and have the more highground because I swear they seem obsessed with it. With this I just wanna say not everything is what it seems.

I said and I repeat myself‚ I like both people involved here! They are both talented people that we the fandom appreciate so this is just incredibly sad. I'm inclined to one of them because my own experience with them and my own opinions. Seeing name callings and people turning against each other is just sad. I'm not gonna get mad at anyone picking sides‚ at the end of the day we all have our opinions and it's important to be true to yourself. Just as it's important to grow and be better. We are human. It's amazing how we are forgetting one of TDP's lessons about hate.

I have been in the berge of tears for the past two weeks over real life stuff and this is seriously not what I needed. The tdp/rayllum Tumblr fandom gives me so much joy so checking all of you makes me happy. I don't think I can take having a breakdown over real life stuff then opening tumblr to have a breakdown over fictional stuff. My social anxiety seems to get worse every year and I feel like I don't have friends to talk or hang out with but talking online with friends and enjoying the blorbos is way easier to me! I do love it! Which makes this whole thing just messed up.

I need to take a little break‚ I'm gonna use today to make a big queue so this blog won't be inactive or anything! But I may not respond asks or messages right away. I will use my given time to finish some fics‚ art and prepare stuff for the rayllum month. I will also be working hard on the zine alongside my buddy. I tend to take june as a resting month anyways so I suppose this is good timing‚ my birthday is in june and I also joined a course lead by a professional fantasy/creature artist so I'm really hyped!! I hope I can use this month to detox myself.

I love TDP and Rayllum with all my heart and I won't let anyone taking that joy away from me. Arc 3 will hopefully be announced at SDCC and we will all be happy and drink tea together. I do also love the friends I have made here and whatever any of your stance is in anything I still love u❤️

If anyone wants to talk in discord anytime I'm very happy to do so! (I got the same name as here saying just in case).

See you soon. Will be back strong with lots of cool content about the sillies.

#in a world full of karims be a callum #in a world fully of karimiyanas be a rayllum #yada yada #just to be clear. nobody should be harassed over fictional ships #but i don't want to join the proshipper mob. i wont label myself #have a nice day everyone!#sorry if this is weird written i slept like 4 hours and im surviving on toffee #personal

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satoriswife · 4 months ago

Text

Kuroo Tetsurou x F!Reader

Title: “Oh yeah?”

Warnings: none

Enemies to lovers

Chapter 2 / ?

Chapter 1., 3 , 4, 5

You spent most of your nights, putting together things for the team.To prove that you were good at this job, that you weren’t a joke for a manager.You spent most of your free time during class carefully organising a player rotation sheet for the upcoming training camp because it would be useful for the team. You spent so much time coming up with the perfect schedules.

Just for Kuroo to take one look and completely ignore them.

“Kuroo for once be mature.I spent time on this.Time FOR the team.”

“It’s useless,so why would we need it.”

“Guess a manager is useless then?”

“You know what.Great suggestion.We.dont.need.you.”

“Your’e a jerk.Dont come crying to me when your team coordination goes shit.” You say snatching them out of his hands.

———————————————————

“Y/n you know he doesn’t mean it.We need you.” Kenma says as he clicks away at his game.

“As much as that’s nice to hear Kenma. Tell that to your ass of a leader or whatever he believes he is.I worked hard on those rotations just for him to completely disregard them.”

“Yea he was wrong for that.You're rotations are what keep the rest of us from messing up.” Lev says plopping down beside you on the lunch table.

You look up to see said person walking towards the table.

Thats my queue to leave.

“I’ll see you guys whenever I see you.” “You're not coming to practice.” You hear that voice.It was more of a statement than a question. “Nahhh.Managers are usless. Well I’m usless anyways.” You say picking up your tray and moving away.

“I didn’t say you were usless…” "So we're lying now? Wait you know what I dont care."

“Wait up, uh can I speak to you?” You hear Fukunaga speak putting his tray away with you.

“Yea of course.Are you okay?” You asked kinda worried.You’d never spoken to him outside of the club,so this was really weird for you.

“Im fine.What about you?”

“Ive been better.Its frustrating yk, he knew that I worked hard on these so for him to just scan over it and say they’re not needed is upsetting.”

“Yea that was pretty messed up.I know that hes my friend and captain, but we do need you,your rotations keep us in check ,without them it would be a disaster.” He sighs. “Look just come to practice, to piss him off, and to be there for the rest of the team.”

You thought about it.Why did you let him get to you.How did you let the rooster haired looking ass dude tell you, you were useless.How could you literally forget that Nekoma does not revolve around him.

“You’re so right…” You laugh slightly. “I’ll be there.”

…

"So you showed up." Mr Captain speaks. You simply nod. "you know-" "Alright guys rotations sheets are on the benches! Grab one if you think it would be useful." You emphasise the word useful as you interrupt him.

You're mission today was to completely ignore him.You weren't gonna give him the benefit of the doubt. "Uh hey." Kuroo says as he awkwardly sits down on the bench beside you. "Lev do you mind grabbing the bibs on the top shelf in the storage room please." "Hey." he says again. "oh and the rest of you set up the nets pleaseee." You say standing up. "Hey." He grabs your wrist. "Why are you ignoring me?" "I have no reason to talk to you right now." You say bluntly. "Did you plan on actually playing today or are you here to sit and chat?" Kuroo wasn't used to that.You always argued back, always held eye contact.But right now there was ?

Nothing.

Just the sound of volleyballs hitting the floor,the steady squeak of sneakers, and a very unsettling silence between you.

"Y/n…oi come on, don't be like that-"

Your focus was on point. Calling out drills, fixing up lineups, making sure everything ran smoothly.Doing exactly what he had told you ,you were useless at. "Mr Captain, If you'd be so kind and join your team now.You have practice to do." You say placing down your clipboard. "I will be right back, but please do continue warmups." You find your clipboard covered in stupid,dumb doodles of little cats scattered around the (luckily)empty page. "Why." You say walking up to Kuroo (because who else would it be.) at the serving line,pointing at the one big cat drawing to the side. "Talking to me now?and .....he's our new mascot." "You are a grown man-" You say biting back a smile. "Debatable." "I hope you enjoy doing laps,Captain." You smirk at the Coach. Kuroo laughs unserious until he realises that you're 100% deadass.

"Wait,hold on wha-"

You love that Coach Nekomata is your uncle.So having these privileges was so funny.Oh and no one knows except Yaku.

You hear the whistle blow. “Coach says 6 laps for all of you.Kuroo 9 laps. GO!” “Wait Y/n.Before we start practice.um.” Kuroo clears his throat. “Sorry I called you usless.The rotations are very helpful but you gotta admit itt you’re always too busy pretending you don’t like me.”

“Coach make that 10 laps for Captain Kuroo Tetsurou.” You laugh slightly seeing his frown. “I almost forgave you-last part was unnecessary.But seriously shut up and focus.”

“Hey no fairr…”

“I think its pretty fair from the shit you’ve said to me this week.Now get outa my sight.” You say pushing him away.

“Whatever!”

#haikyuu kuroo #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #nekoma #hq x reader #hq kuroo #kuroo tetsurou #haikyuu smut #enemies to lovers

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helloalycia · 1 year ago

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𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 [𝐎𝐍𝐄] — 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑

two / three / four / masterlist / wattpad

summary: the usual story of a girl falling for a girl who eventually becomes her brother's girlfriend. What could go wrong?

warning/s: none.

author's note: here’s another jackie one i wrote a while ago as i’m trying to post some stuff i’ve already written whilst working on a bunch of other stuff lol, this one was super fun to write so i hope you enjoy it!

also i googled what grades and ages are in america but it well confused me so sorry if it's wrong lol

y/b/n = your band’s name and y/bf/n = your best friend's name

5 years old.

"You're gonna love it, Y/N, I just know it," my brother, Jeff, was encouraging me as he walked by my side, holding my hand.

I smiled nervously, looking up at him and immediately being put at ease. It was my first day of kindergarten and I'd been super nervous the last few weeks, wondering what it would be like. Jeff was a year older than me, so it was his first day of first grade but he never seemed scared about these things. I wanted to be just like that.

"Okay, my darlings, this is where I leave you," our mum said, stopping by the front gates. She kneeled down to hug us both, adding, "I love you so much. Have the best first day. Okay? And Y/N, if you're worried, your brother is here for you, alright?"

I nodded, squeezing her tightly, before letting go. Jeff gave me a smile before leading me through the gates.

"You're gonna go that way, over there," he told me, pointing to the line forming by the front of the school. "Just look out for me over here, okay?"

"Thanks, Jeff," I said, hugging his side briefly before making my way to the queue that was forming. Other kids like me, nervously awaiting their first day.

After the teacher greeted me and led me to the queue, I waited patiently for the rest of the class to settle down and glanced over to the other queue across the playground, where Jeff was. He was surrounded by his friends, all grinning as they reunited, and I recognised a few of them from play dates at home. My eyes scanned the line he was in, glancing between the other students. And that's when I saw her.

At the time, I didn't know her name. I soon discovered it was Jackie Taylor. But I didn't care at that moment because all I was focused on was how pretty she looked, laughing with some other girls. Her blonde hair was pulled back into two ponytails, her bright eyes shimmering with excitement, even all the way across the playground. I didn't know what liking somebody was that young, I just knew that the butterflies in my stomach and my inability to look anywhere but at her wasn't normal.

I suppose that was where my crush on Jackie Taylor began.

—

14 years old.

"Y/N, I need your advice."

I looked up from the book I was reading to see Jeff hanging by the doorway of my room. He was unusually sheepish, making me lower my book and raise an eyebrow.

"What's up?" I asked, making space for him on my bed.

He let himself in my room, jumping on top of the bed and crossing his legs. "So... you're a girl, right?"

I tried not to laugh. "Last time I checked."

He was nervous. "Sorry, I know, I just meant– you know how girls think. And I... I think I like a girl. At school. And I wanted your opinion."

Intrigued, I said, "Which girl? What's she like?"

"I think you might know her," he said. "Or at least have seen her around. Y'know Jackie Taylor in my grade? Blonde hair, about your height, really hot?"

At the mention of Jackie, a girl I'd been crushing on since I first set eyes on her, my smile faded slightly. I'd seen her around a lot at school, since she was only in the grade above, and though I'd never spoken to her, it was easy for me to get stuck in admiration from afar. Of course I knew I had zero chances with her, but now knowing Jeff liked her too was like the world's way of confirming that my fantasy of being with Jackie Taylor was just that, a fantasy.

"Oh, yeah, Jackie Taylor," I said after a moment, hiding my surprise. "She's pretty."

"She is," he agreed with a smile that was reminiscent of my own whenever I saw her. "I think she might be interested in me too. Randy said her friend Shauna was asking about me."

"Well, that's gotta be a good sign," I said with a slight smile, trying to ignore the pit of despair and focus on being happy for my brother. "What's the problem then?"

He sighed. "Well, I wasn't sure whether I should ask her out or play the long game a little. What d'you think?"

I scratched my head to buy some time as I thought. "Erm... well, from a girl's perspective, I wouldn't want someone to mess around for too long if they liked me. And Jackie seems like quite the catch. If you don't make your move, somebody else might."

He nodded, actually paying attention to me surprisingly. "You're right, you're right... I should ask her out before someone else does."

"Exactly," I agreed.

He thought about it for a moment before beginning to smile. "You're so right, Y/N. Thank you!"

Before I could react, he hugged me quickly, and that was when I knew that no matter what feelings I thought I had for Jackie Taylor, it didn't matter anymore. She was off limits.

Of course, when I wished it would just end there, it didn't. Turns out Jeff was terrible at making the first move, or at least finding the opportunity to. So much that when he begged me to try out for the soccer team a few days later, claiming he needed a reason to talk to her, I had no choice but to oblige. I loved my brother and I knew he'd do the same for me, so I pushed my own feelings aside and did what I could to help. No matter how humiliating it would be.

Soccer was not my forte. Music was my thing. I played the guitar and piano, putting my time into that as an extracurricular, not sports. So, when I showed up for soccer tryouts after school, Jeff by my side for 'support', I was a nervous wreck.

"Jeff Sadecki," Jackie said when we approached her, a flirty smile on her lips. And then her eyes fell to me. "And you must be Y/N, his sister. Nice to meet you."

I smiled awkwardly, realising just how badly I was crushing when I heard her speak. She knew who I was?

"Take it easy on my sister, yeah?" Jeff said playfully, wrapping an arm around me, to which I shoved him off instantly.

"Oh, I'm sure she can handle whatever I throw her way," she retorted, before glancing at me kindly. "Right, Y/N?"

"I wouldn't be too sure about that," I mumbled, already dreading tryouts.

She must have thought I was kidding as she laughed. "You head over there to stretch. I'll be right over."

I obeyed, relieved to be away from the flirty glances her and my brother were exchanging that were making me nauseous.

After stretching and hoping I wouldn't do something extremely embarrassing, I glanced over at Jackie and Jeff, seeing her twirling her hair as she spoke to him. He was ecstatic, and I wanted to die. Finally, he went to sit in the bleachers to watch, and Jackie joined us soon enough.

"Okay, ladies, soccer tryouts start now!" she exclaimed with a bright smile, clapping her hands together. "Hope you're all ready to show the Yellowjackets your worth!"

I groaned inwardly at her enthusiasm.

Tryouts was the worst thing I'd ever endured. Between drills, shooting and scrimmage, I was breathless after an hour. How the hell did people play soccer for fun? It was exhausting! The only thing that made this a little worth the hassle was having a front row view of Jackie, who was admittedly drool-worthy in her soccer uniform. Even when she was yelling orders, I still found myself distracted and unable to focus on an already boring sport.

It was especially embarrassing when I was attempting to practice taking goals and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't seem to land a shot. Some of the other girls who were trying out were laughing at me, I could hear them, and even some of the Yellowjackets team were mumbling between each other, no doubt about how terrible I was. Everything we'd done until now, I'd failed. But this was just the cherry on top.

Whether it was because I was Jeff's little sister, or because she genuinely pitied me – possibly both – Jackie tried to help out.

"Kick with the side of your foot," she said, as I lined up another shot. "Don't overthink it. Just aim and kick!"

Wanting this to just be over already, I tried to do as she said and took the shot. Naturally, the ball went completely past the net, and the goalkeeper, Van, didn't have to move a muscle as she watched it roll away. Face flaming with embarrassment, I shook my head.

"It's okay, maybe shooting isn't your strength!" Jackie tried to reassure.

We both knew none of this was my strength, but I said nothing as I rejoined the line and let the next girl go.

If that wasn't awful enough, the last part of tryouts approached and I soon found myself playing in a scrimmage as a midfielder, trying my best to keep up with the game and not make a further fool of myself. Luck didn't seem to be with me, as when someone shouted my name and I prepared myself to catch the ball at my feet, I didn't step back quickly enough and it hit me right in the face, sending a burst of pain up my nose and me on my arse.

Horrified as people began to rush up to me to check if I was okay, I tried to assure them I was fine, but it was looking more and more unbelievable as blood ran from my nose.

"Guys, give her some space!" Jackie said, before making her way through the crowd to check on me. Worriedly, she grabbed my face and inspected my nose. "Fuck... C'mon. I should get you to the nurse's office."

"Oh my god, Y/N...," Jeff appeared, slowing down when he saw the state of me. He clearly found it amusing as he stifled a smile. "Are you okay?"

I glared at him as Jackie helped me stand up.

Both her and Jeff led me to the nurse's office, though their attention was more on each other than it was on me. I tried not to sulk about it as I went to get seen to and watched them flirt outside the door, clearly getting what they wanted. I'd made a fool of myself in front of Jackie for sure, but it didn't matter because Jeff seemed happy enough, and I guess that was all that mattered.

After that awful day, it was safe to say I didn't make the team, not that that was the aim. But Jeff did finally ask Jackie out, and after a few more dates, they became official. Their relationship was sweet, and Jackie was exceptionally polite to me, but that was because she saw me as her boyfriend's little sister and nothing more.

I knew it was for the best and hoped it would help me get over my crush on her, but it really didn't.

Shortly after they started dating, it was clear that I had my responsibilities as the boyfriend's little sister. Jackie approached me one day at school, where I was chatting with some of my friends by my locker. Because of how smart and pretty and kind Jackie was, she was pretty well known in my grade also, and it was always seen as cool to know someone in the grade above. So, when she found me, my friends immediately fell silent, amazed at the fact I was talking to a tenth grader.

"Hey Jackie, what's up?" I asked, wondering what she needed.

She flashed a picture perfect smile to my friends, who were either drooling over her or stunned into silence, then looked back to me. "I wanted to ask if you were coming to the game later?"

"Game?" I asked with confusion.

"My soccer match," she clarified.

"Oh, er...," I started, but wasn't really sure what to say because I didn't know I needed to, or that she'd want me there. "I think Jeff is?"

"I know that, silly," she laughed, making my heart skip a beat annoyingly enough, "but I wanted you to come too! Thought it could be fun and I could use the support."

Feeling like I had no choice, I nodded. "Yeah, sure, I'll come."

She grinned. "Awesome!" Then she glanced at my friends saying, "You guys should come too. The more, the merrier."

They nodded awkwardly, and she smiled at me once more before leaving. And that was how I got roped into attending the Yellowjackets' soccer games, as someone who had zero interest in soccer.

—

Maybe it was because she was dating my brother that she felt she needed to spend time with me, I wasn't sure. But for whatever reason, Jackie tried her best to chat with me whenever she was around, or hang out with me a little.

The first time she tried was after school, when she was hanging out with Jeff at our house. I was in my room doing some homework when there was a knock at my door, and after letting whoever it was in, Jackie appeared.

"Oh," I said, surprised. "Hey, Jackie."

"Hey," she said with a smile, before letting herself in and looking around. "Cool room."

I glanced around, as if to see what she was seeing. It was nothing special, just some posters blu-tacked on the walls, mismatched bedsheets on my bed and a pile of dirty laundry in the corner. Still, I smiled a little, acknowledging her comment.

"So, what're you doing?" she asked, sitting at the edge of my bed, before her eyes fell to the keyboard and guitar on the side. "Oh, that's cool! You play?"

I watched as she got up to take a closer look, though clearly not familiar with the instruments as she was reluctant to touch anything. "Yeah, I took lessons as a kid and it kinda became my favourite thing."

"Leave it to Jeff to not tell me how cool his little sister is," she mumbled with amusement, and it stung just a little, the reminder of how she saw me. Glancing at me hopefully, she asked, "Can you play something for me?"

"I actually have homework to do," I said apologetically, but also glad for the out, because she didn't need to know that most of the stuff I'd composed was inspired by her.

"Oh, right, yeah, duh," she said with a laugh, before approaching my desk and hovering above me, making me forgot how to breathe. "What you working on? English?"

All I could do was nod.

"Need a hand?" she asked helpfully. "I already did this and I'm pretty good if I do say so myself."

"Oh, I think I've got it–" I tried to stop her, but she was already grabbing the seat to my keyboard and pulling it next to me.

"I don't mind, honest," she said sweetly, before grabbing my book and taking a look.

With no choice but to accept her help, I let her. And that was when I realised she was just trying to be nice to me, and I kind of had to accept.

She'd do that occasionally, or greet me in school when she didn't need to, and I thought that getting to know her like this might help eradicate my crush on her, since it was based on a fantasy of what I thought I knew about her. Unfortunately, it only made me like her more because I got to know her as more than the fantasy in my head, and it turned out that the real Jackie Taylor was still worth crushing on.

—

It was about a month into hers and Jeff's relationship when they broke up. I wasn't sure how or why, just that one day Jeff came back from a date looking annoyed and told me in a firm statement that he and Jackie were over. I wasn't sure what to think, nor how it really affected me other than I'd lost out on a somewhat decent relationship with Jackie. It was even more awkward when I realised Jackie had promised to tutor me for an upcoming English test and I wasn't sure if she'd even talk to me, or if I was supposed to talk to her.

The following Monday after their break up, I saw Jackie around at school but didn't know whether I could speak to her or not. But then she came to me at my locker, as if nothing was wrong.

"Hey, you still free after school for that tutoring?" she asked with her usual friendly smile.

"I... yes?" I answered, though it was more of a question because of how confused I was.

"Okay," she laughed, "why do you seem so puzzled?" When I didn't answer, she continued, "Oh, did you think I was gonna bail because Jeff and I broke up?"

I pursed my lips uncomfortably. "Yes?"

She rolled her eyes playfully. "I'm not. What happened between Jeff and I is separate to us, Y/N. I mean, he's definitely a jerk, but that doesn't make you one."

I smiled awkwardly, unsure what exactly he'd done to be deemed a 'jerk' but also not caring enough to ask.

"Meet you in the library after school?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Surprised but also appreciative that she was still willing to tutor me, I nodded in agreement. "Sounds good, Jackie. Thanks."

She flashed me a smile before leaving.

Tutoring happened as planned and I aced my test the day after. But then the day after that, Jackie and Jeff were suddenly back together like nothing had happened, and once she told me it was a mistake upon seeing my confusion, I soon realised they had one of those relationships. They'd break up over stupid stuff but ultimately get back together, and as exhausting as it was to witness, I knew it wasn't my business.

—

15 years old.

I sat and ate my dinner as my parents chatted Jackie's ear off about soccer and her studies. She was over for the evening as Jeff's date, courtesy of my parents, a somewhat regular occurrence lately. And I didn't mind, but it was getting a little tiring listening to the same thing all the time. Though, I regretted thinking that as soon as the conversation turned to me.

"...yes, she's started a band with her friends," my mum was telling Jackie. "They're playing the school dance next week."

Jackie immediately looked to me with amazement. "Wait, you're Y/B/N? You and your friends?"

I grew embarrassed as everyone looked at me. It was true that some of my friends and I had started a band, mainly because we were bored and needed an outlet from school, but also because it was something fun to do on the side. It wasn't a secret, but it was the last thing I wanted to discuss at dinner.

"Yeah, it's just something new," I said dismissively.

"Don't sell yourself short, Y/N, you guys are great," Jeff said encouragingly, and I smiled gratefully at him. As far as older brothers went, he was pretty good.

"I cannot wait to see you perform," Jackie said with an excited smile. "It's gonna be so cool."

"Let's hope so," I said lightheartedly.

"She's a little nervous, since it's their first live performance," my mum decided to embarrass me further, making me avoid everyone's eyes. "It'll be lovely to have support already in the crowd."

"Oh, of course!" Jackie continued brightly. "The team and I are gonna be there for you, Y/N. And if you want, I can help you get ready for the dance beforehand, I don't mind."

"Oh, no, you don't need to–"

"That's very generous of you, Jackie!" my mum exclaimed, cutting me off. "Thank you!"

Jackie grinned, eyes flickering to mine as I wished to be swallowed up by the ground there and then. Jackie Taylor helping me get ready for a school dance? No, thanks.

But due to my mum's insistence, that was how I found myself sat on my bed a week later, with Jackie doing my makeup.

"Your shirt is what colour again?" she asked as she scanned the eyeshadow palette in her hand.

"Black, but the skirt is blue," I said as nonchalantly as I could, hoping she couldn't hear my heart racing in my chest.

I wasn't handling the whole having my crush inches away from my face thing very well, and I was certainly having a hard time hiding it.

"Okay, great, I have the perfect idea," she said with a grin, before coating her brush in a colour and leaning forward again. "Close your eyes for me?"

Relieved I wouldn't have to look at her, I closed my eyes and let her apply my eye makeup, trying not to focus on the warmth emanating from her or the way the pad of her finger would gently rub at my skin or the caress of her breath as she exhaled. Nope, not focusing on any of it.

"So, any boys caught your eye that you're gonna dance with tonight?" she asked as she worked.

"Erm, not really, no," I mumbled.

She paused, and I almost opened my eyes to see why, but then she said, "Any girls? Because that's okay, too."

My cheeks were hot and I was relieved my eyes were closed otherwise she would've seen, truly, how flustered I was.

"No," I finally answered, clearing my throat. "I mean, it's okay, but no."

Did I just come out? Probably. But it wasn't a secret, and Jackie didn't seem to care.

"That's okay, just wait until they all see you perform," she said supportively. "Girls are suckers for musicians."

Yeah, but not the girl I wanted.

"Speaking of performing, is it gonna be originals or covers?"

"Covers for now," I answered, glad we were discussing something I was comfortable with. "The originals aren't ready for performing just yet."

"Ooh, so there are originals," she said in a playful tone. "Did you write any?"

"Some, yeah."

"Okay, eye makeup is done," she said quickly, and I opened my eyes to see her searching for a lipstick, but she continued talking, "And do I get to hear any of these originals?"

"Not yet," I quipped with a nervous smile, and I secretly hoped she'd never ask again because they were all about her.

She pouted playfully and I was forced to look away, a tornado twisting in my stomach because of how cute she looked.

After a moment, she lifted a dark red colour in the air with enthusiasm. "This is the one."

I assumed she'd give it me to put on, but she instantly uncapped the lipstick before leaning close again, grabbing my chin softly and painting my lips red. I was paralysed at the contact, my eyes flickering between hers. They looked greener than usual because of her green shirt, and then I started focusing on the space behind her head, realising I was staring.

"I think this is my best work yet," she said with pride, letting go and looking at me way more than I preferred. "You're really nervous, aren't you? Don't worry, you're gonna be great, Y/N."

Yeah, not nervous for what she thought... but I'd take it.

"Okay, get ready so I can see the final look," she feigned impatience, smacking me with her hands.

"Okay, okay, geez, Jackie." I got up as she laughed, and grabbed my clothes from the hangar.

I changed behind my wardrobe door, physically incapable of changing in front of her. When I stepped out, hair and makeup fully done, I glanced in the mirror and was pleased with what I saw, not really doubting Jackie's abilities. I turned to show Jackie, who stood up from the bed and looked me up and down, leaving me nervous all over again.

"You. Look. Beautiful," she said with a kind smile, approaching me and fixing my hair from the front.

"Thanks, Jackie," I said, both flustered and with appreciation.

Her eyes continued to take in my whole appearance, making me avoid meeting her gaze as I distracted myself with pulling on my shoes.

"So, are you not getting ready?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Yes, Jeff said he'd drop me back off to mine so I can get ready with Shauna," she said. "Just wanted to make sure you were good to go first."

"Well, thanks, I appreciate it."

Once my shoes were on, I grabbed my jacket and opened my bedroom door, holding it open for her. Walking her downstairs, we stopped by the front door and Jeff and her left for her place whilst my mum dropped me off to the school early so the band and I could get ready.

The school gym was already decorated for the dance, the stage set up with our instruments. I found my friends backstage and smiled at how coordinated we all looked with our outfits.

The band was made up of myself on the guitar and keyboard, Y/BF/N on the drums, Tommy on vocals and guitar and Aaron on bass. We'd all been friends since kindergarten and grew closer in Music class, and they were a tight knit group that I couldn't imagine being without.

We'd practiced a lot since officially forming about a month ago, so I wasn't doubting our ability to sound good, but the dance was our first proper live performance and it was still a little nerve wracking.

"Okay, guys, this is it," Tommy said as we all got ready for the curtains to open. "Not a big deal, but also could be the difference between high school suicide and surviving the next three years."

"No pressure, in other words," Y/BF/N said sarcastically, making Aaron and I laugh.

"We've got this," I assured them all. "Good luck, gang."

They all returned it before we got into our positions and waited for the principal to announce us. I clutched my guitar pick and took a deep breath once I heard our name, then the curtains opened revealing the sports hall full of students, including Jeff, Jackie and all of her teammates.

They all smiled supportively, and I admittedly let my gaze linger on Jackie for a second longer than I should have. I couldn't help it – she looked so pretty in her purple satin dress, enough that I almost missed my cue to play because of how distracted I was.

We performed a few covers smoothly, making no mistakes and eventually falling into our usual rhythm, and everybody seemed to be enjoying themselves. After a set, the DJ took over and we all left our instruments onstage before leaving to have a break.

"I can't believe we just did that," Y/BF/N said with amazement.

"Neither can I," Tommy agreed with a laugh before pulling us all into a group hug.

After having the ultimate debrief of our performance, still in disbelief and on a high from it all, we went our separate ways to catch up with others, and Jeff and Jackie found me immediately.

"Y/N, that was awesome!" Jeff exclaimed when he saw me, before pulling me in for a hug. "You were amazing up there!"'

I chuckled, blushing. "Thanks, Jeff. You think everyone liked it? Like actually?"

"Of course they did!" he said like I was stupid. "Y'know how cool you are now?"

"Hey, she was always cool," Jackie said, smacking him playfully before shooting me a smile that made me weak in the knees; she was even prettier up close. "Y/N, you were amazing up there. Real badass. The team thought so too."

"Thanks, Jackie," I said with a nod, heart racing just a little more than usual.

"You're not on a for a while now, right?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, and all it took was for me to shake my head before she grabbed my hand and led me to the dancefloor with Jeff. "Good, you can dance with us!"

"Oh, I don't know–"

"Let loose, Y/N," she insisted with a grin, before dragging me to where her teammates were.

And as soon as they saw me, they showered me in compliments and I was flustered the whole time, not used to the attention. It was kind of Jackie to have them cheer me on, but it was also just another reminder that they all saw me as Jeff's little sister. Still, I tried to focus on how great the night had been and let myself enjoy it.

#jackie taylor x you #jackie taylor imagine #jackie taylor x reader #jackie taylor #ella purnell #yellowjackets imagine #yellowjackets

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firstprincehornyramblings · 9 months ago

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Hello everyone! I'm getting a start early, by queueing this post for tomorrow morning, look at me go. Thank you who much to @tailsbeth-writes for the tag <3 I have ... 3 wips again, because I have no self control, so we're doing all of this under the cut, because it's gonna be long, and maybe a lil nsfw <3 LET'S GOOOOOOOO.

------ George Villier's inner dialogue during an Orgy (that's the working title on this, please bare with)

It wasn’t that George had always been this way, but an ascension into power had nurtured his hedonism prone nature. If he was to be blessed with the gift of beauty, he would take all the power and pleasure that came with it. He’d earned it after all, his bed of lovers, his social standing, influence, and wealth. Each a result of unsavory acts; but that made them so much more deserved, did it not? He could have anything he wanted, like a god among men, and so he should be worshipped the same. Though he was more than content with devotion in the form of flesh; he’d certainly used his own body as currency often enough. Even now, anything that wasn’t handed to him willingly, with a brush of lips, or a clandestine slip to knees, could become his. That in itself was testament to all he’d done, that his willing submission was as effective a bargaining tool as his power.

WATERSPORTS FIRSTPRINCE (aka, Alex is funny and Henry has a weak bladder)

“You… think it’s- what?” Henry choked out, “You think it’s hot that I pissed myself in the middle of our kitchen? Is that your idea of a joke?” “I-” the brunette could feel his own cheeks heating up now, “It’s not a joke, I do, I’m sorry, but I do,” he managed after a moment. “Oh,” the blond’s eyes shot straight down to the shorts Alex had on, falling on the visible hardness there, “Oh,” he repeated, but with much more understanding this time. There were still tears sparkling in the corners of his eyes, threatening to fall, but he was visibly less mortified, “Alex, that is so disgusting...” “I know, shit baby, I’m s-” “I can get into it.” “What?” “I said, I can get into it,” Henry repeated, “Well, honestly, I could probably get into anything that makes your cock hard, because- well frankly I reap the benefits of that. Would you like to fuck my throat?”

AND A NEW WIP, Hairstylist Henry and his least (read as favorite) Client Alex

“Alright, tilt your head back,” both of Henry’s hands rested on Alex’s temples, carefully moving the other man’s head into the perfect place, “Do you want me to stop under the jawline?” “Whatever you think looks best, sweetheart.” Normally, Henry would hate that, some businessman using a pet name on him. But usually it felt demeaning, when Alex did it, it felt genuine, perhaps that was why he didn't mind it. He would rather accept that than admit it might have something to do with how hot his cheeks felt or how his stomach flip flopped. Instead, he chose to focus on something else, like the familiar but luxurious scent becoming more evident the closer he was to Alex. “Santal 33?” the blond asked, running the trimmers over the other man’s jawline, making careful precise lines that would accentuate the sharp angles there. “Yeah,” impressively, Alex had answered that without much movement of his face; Henry was astonished. “Makes sense.” “What is that supposed to mean?” this time, the brunette moved, but he did have the mind to wait until Henry was running the trimers along his throat with less chance of Alex’s jolt messing up something. “It means you look like someone who has good taste, don’t move.” “You’re worse than a dentist,” Alex grumbled. “Stop moving, christ you’re an absolute menace, I’m going to slice your throat open.” “With an electric trimmer?” “I’m certain if I make enough effort, I just may be able to pull it off,” Henry snapped.

OKAY, that was a long one, if you stuck around thank u I love u. TAG LINE UP!!!!

@taste-thewaste @eusuntgratie @henrysfox @thighzp

@softboynick @catdadacd @sheepywritesfics @henryspearl

@basil-bird @caressthosecheekbones @henfox @onthewaytosomewhere + literally anyone else I'm sleepy and forgot, or anyone who sees this and wants to tag me, I love reading yall's stuff. <3

#rwrb fanfiction #firstprince smut #wip wednesday #so many wips

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brandwhorestarscream · 8 months ago

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You have no idea how much I needed VERY sick and pregnant Megatron in my life. Him begging not to throw up and just being miserable was something I didn't know I wanted but now I know. You've opened my eyes.

Little cogless miners are so small and adorable. They're so tiny 😭🥰

Orion Pax is such a smug little shit (affectionate) in the beginning of the movie. I love him so much.

I cannot wait to see the 4th chapter of TFone Megatron being pregnant ☺

Hey, I'm glad you liked it! Poor Dee's really going through it. 4th chapter is still being worked on, but here! Have some bonus content of poor sick D-16. This time, after hours:

::Digestive tank purge, initiated::

D-16 gags as he comes back online, startled out of recharge but body moving in its own, stumbling out of his slot and clamping one servo over his mouth. Something in his abdomen heaves and he feels hot bile hit the back of his throat. Tears blur his vision and he searches desperately for a waste bin, but it's too late: his upper body jerks and he stumbles to his knees over a drain on the floor, one palm planting shakily on the cold concrete before half-digested energon comes sloshing past his lips.

He moans, miserable, tears dripping solemnly down his cheeks. He gags again, violently, sobbing as it makes his whole upper body jerk. His midsection throbs, his esophageal tubing burns. He hunches over, vents whirring loudly, pressing his overly-hot forehelm to the cold ground.

"D-16?"

He whimpers pathetically and turns his face, squinting against the fluorescent backlight. "D... Doctor...? H'oh-!" He gags again and turns to purge, coughing out a sheet of clear, burning sludge.

"I'm here," Ratchet is kneeling at his side immediately, one servo on his back and the other coming to touch his forehelm, holding his head up. "Primus, kid. You're burning up." 4 degrees outside of what could be considered the normal parameters. Any hotter and he'd probably have to be shut away in a medsuite for emergency care.

Exhausted, D-16 slumps over, heavily leaning on the medic. His vents are shuddering, and his whole body is trembling with exhaustion. He sniffles again, tears still threading down his cheeks. "...it hurts," he admits in a tiny, rasping voice. His optics glaze over and he starts to sob into Ratchet's lap. "I feel... s-so bad...!"

The medic's spark aches, because there's really nothing he can do. Fever reducers and extra coolant haven't been working, antibiotics aren't working, he hasn't been able to rest and sleep it off the way he desperately needs to, and none of his tools are calibrated for identifying specific viral strains and whipping up the chemical compound of a cure. Not like the ones in the real hospitals. When it comes to illness, all he can do is guess and estimate and diagnose to the best of his ability, and treat them accordingly. But nothing's been working and D-16 just keeps getting sicker. The only silver lining is that he doesn't seem to be contagious, as no one else has come down with his mystery ailment.

Defeated, Ratchet rubs soothing circles on his back while Dee sobs into his lap. "I know, kid... I- I know. We- I'm sorry, we're still trying to figure it out." He and First Aid and Sugarcoat were up to their ears in half-finished repairs and a huge queue of mecha in need of their constant attention because of the new shift rules. There just wasn't time to figure out a treatment for one mech's fevers and stubbornly upset tanks. Dee makes a miserable snuffling sound and starts coughing, prompting Ratchet to drag him into a sitting position to decompress his aeration systems.

"...come on," he stands up and slides his hands under D-16's arms, pulling him to stand. The younger mech's legs are shaking, knees knocking together. His optics are unfocused, and he wobbles dangerously. "You gonna biff it?"

"D... Dunno."

"Alright. Hang tight, I'll getcha a chair."

The wheelchairs are antiquated, all of them rusty and dusty and old, but they're enough to support a miner's weight and get them where they need to go. Ratchet pushes him to one of the medsuites and effortlessly lifts him onto the berth, telling him to lie down.

"What're you...?"

"I'm doing inventory," shift doesn't start for another two megacycles, but the work needs to be done. "You're gonna sleep. Lying flat should help the nausea some." He'd have liked to also get him on an energon drip, as his constant purging surely had his gauges in the red, but energon was in short supply right now. Emergency transfusions only, and unless a mech was at risk of deactivating, it wasn't considered an emergency.

D-16 doesn't look convinced, cuz he's really not supposed to be in here. Ratchet tuts at him, says, "Doctor's orders." and throws a weighted sheet over him to seal the deal. To his relief, Dee falls back into recharge some ten kliks later, and is able to get a bit more uninterrupted rest. He feels awful when he has to shake the silver mech awake for the work cycle, but inciting the wrath of their overseers by being late would only make his fragile health worse. Thankfully, Dee is able to walk (more of a hobble, but at least he was upright), and Ratchet resolves to figure out something to help him.

#wow this got away from me #ratchet #d-16 #listen i meed ratchet who's the exhausted mine mom whos just trying his damn best to take care of them all #hes amongst the oldest of any of the Iaconians (which isnt saying much ik) and loves all the cogless miners like his own children #anywaaaay i hope you enjoyed #transformers one

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artist-of-dawn · 8 months ago

Text

So High School

Chapter 7: "heartbeat"

Next: "Suga-san's masterplan"

Masterlist

🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊

The last few weeks have been extremely confusing. First Shoyo comes back and everything feels right again, his smile and laugh and genuine care for me warm my heart, but it seems that there is a line we both subconsiously don't cross. He's here flirting and having fun but it feels too light, it makes me feel unsure about how he truly feels about me and now I'm standing like an idiot near the door just to hear him ringing the door bell. He's supposed to arrive in 15 minutes.

"Don't forget how to breathe yn." Shimizu Kyioko was standing in the doorway to the living room with a small smile, she has always been the stability I never knew I needed.

"I'm scared Shimizu."

"I know. It's okay, It's normal."

"But how do I know if he's genuine? That he doesn't just do this with everyone and I’m just delusional?"

"I cannot tell you what to think of him or his actions, but have you seen him being this way with anyone else?" I hesitantly shake my head. "He adores you. Not more than me though. And you are not delusional at all, at the reunion when he came back he had this lovesick look on his face and talked about you for the rest of the night before koushi got shitfaced and passed out." She held out her hand and helped me up from the floor I was supposedly moping on.

"Yeah you're right. I should worry less." I shake my head and do my best to smile."Love you shimizu" Damn, I am so lucky to be able to call these people my friends. Once in a while these moments really make me so grateful that I have them in my life.

The sweet moment was cut short by the doorbell. Shit. The calm was long gone.

Shimizu took that as her queue to leave the room, winking at me before going upstairs.

I open the door hesitantly before he hugs me. Damn this man. I cannot even feel my heartbeat anymore. He's strong and comforting and all of the things I sometimes admit to long for.

"Hey Sho, ready to enter the life of a model?" He laughed a little.

🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊

"You're alright?" Shoyo says suddenly and I slam my phone face down onto the grass.

"Yeah it's just Kei being salty as usual."

"Ah, yeah I remeber you said that you guys kept in contact after graduation." I still remember how I dragged him to the celebratory dinner. I had to paint dino bones and name them for him to learn quicker, some sort of artsy flashcards.

"He needs someone to keep him in check while tadashi is away traveling." He hums in understanding. "Wanna listen to some music?"

He just nods and looks away with a distant, nearly dreamy gleam in his eyes. I wonder what he's thinking about. I shrug and open my phone scrolling and stopped and played a random song.

And so played mirrorball by Taylor Swift.

I dare to dream only for a moment of saying fuck it and just tell him everything there is to say. How I want nothing more than to spend my life with him and that I tried to forget him but failed terribly. That I'd let him ruin all my paints if he came to my house more often and wear his jersey to every game.

But I don't. Not yet.

Sometimes I'm disappointing myself.

I lean my head on his shoulder as he hums to the song. I'll shine for him meanwhile.

🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊🌸🍊

No fun facts this time :")

"Are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me? (Kill me)

It's just a game, but really (really)

I'm bettin' on all three for us two (all three)"

Taglist: @nymphsdomain @writing-for-the-hell-of-it

#haikyuu #hinata shouyou #hinata shoyo x reader #haikyuu hinata #so high school #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu smau #hq #hq fluff #hq smau

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crimsonultra · 23 days ago

Text

It's real. It's happening.

So. Springtrap in Dead by Daylight. After years of hype, speculation, backlash, and one incident that raised hell, he's finally coming to the game, and became playable in the Dead by Daylight Public Test Branch.

And you know what? I have...

Some Thoughts.

The Party Begins Now.

Let's start with the star of the show, Springtrap.

I'm genuinely surprised at how fun he is.

The anniversary reveal stream really didn't sell me on him, especially once I heard the words "fire axe" mentioned. Though, it didn't help that I could barely hear anything anyway, and only ended up hearing every other sentence. I thought he was gonna be pretty boring once I got into the game/heard about how he worked from my friends. And then I had my first round against him.

And I realized "Oh shit, this is awesome."

The fireaxe isn't just a reskinned hatchet, it embeds itself into you and you have to take it out in order to heal yourself. And if he catches up, he won't just stab you-- he'll grab the axe and instantly pick you up, with a lovely little roar. When that axe first hit, it genuinely made me freak out and I absolutely loved it. But what happens if you suck ass overshot it a little bit? Well, then it embeds into the ground and leaves you liable to any sort of effects the add-ons give the axe. Haste, hindrance, oblivious, you can even make it expand over time at the cost of losing it's effect by half. He can also call it back to himself and is so much more heavy than any other projectile in the game as far as I can tell. I'm shocked they made this burnt stick work so well.

But that's not all...

There's also these doors! Oh boy So, these doors were clearly related to his power, they look out of place even in those screenshots and have a camera on top of them. And they do what you expect, they allow you to watch him on the cameras and reveal his aura to the rest of team. They run on a universal battery. Alright, makes sense. And you can also walk through them. Oh, okay, so they serve as a way to go across the map with a cute little cutscene every time you use them. Then Springtrap appears from one of the doors as you go in. Uh oh Yeah, both sides can use the doors, and if you use them at the same time as Springtrap does, you get jumpscared and taken back out to be hooked. I love this. Such a clever way to translate the office/camera gameplay to a game like DbD, and the craziest thing?

It's fun on both sides.

So after I died horribly against Springtrap, I decided to be Springtrap. (After like a 20-30 minute queue. Surprise, everyone wants to be possibly the most requested license in DbD history.)

And even though I got one kill, I loved every second of it.

Chasing people around the map, throwing axes into their shoulders, and catching people on cameras and the office, I'm still shocked by how fun it was.

But now, onto the next part of Springtrap.

The walking iron maiden himself.

I'm Going To Enjoy This.

Similar to the gameplay, when we got our first look at Springtrap's model, I wasn't impressed. The renders didn't endear him to me like the artwork did, it made him look a lot more bland than he looks in-game. I think the lack of torso detail and the lighting in them mainly makes him look too clean. In-game, where the lighting is able to do it's work, he looks fantastic and pretty much exactly how he looked in FNaF3.

Now, as for his animations and voice? Perfect. There are some issues with the animations, but those mainly are stuff like survivors flipping around when picked up or the camera messing up when grabbed, nothing really on his side. And his voice? Oh, I'm so glad they got PJ Heywood back for this. It's a different take on Afton compared to his previous iterations, but it fits Springtrap really well. What should've been his demise became his saviour, and he's LOVING it. I also love the reuse/re-contextualization of lines, dare I say one of my favorite details about him. And his mori? My god. So, it starts off pretty simple at first, he grabs you by the head and stabs you through the chest, bringing you off the ground. After you're up, he walks forward and says a line, and then he appears.

An endoskeleton that's been modified to have a ton of sawblades on it, turns towards them both, and Afton throws you onto it. It blends the survivor up from behind, sending bone, brain matter, and some blood onto Afton's face, before dropping them and letting all the blood rush out onto the ground. Then he gives a jumpscare right before it ends.

Now, I won't say this is what I expected from the Springtrap Mori. I expected a really simple "Jumpscare -> Stab -> Whatever his power is" because that's what I thought they'd do. So when that happened, I was so excited because of how out there it was. I know some people, including a few friends, think it's a bit too strange or that it doesn't make much sense, but I feel it works pretty damn well. Shoutout to Blendo, he makes things so much better.

The Darkest Pit Of Hell Is Open For Business!

Last, but not least, the map that comes with Springtrap. Freddy Fazbear's Pizza.

I won't lie, I was hoping it'd be just the smallest bit bigger. I like walking through it, seeing all the details from the posters to the little plushies Foxy and other random toys that appear throughout the establishment, but it does feel just a little lacking. Even a single hallway to an office that's been broken open to the outside would've worked. The use of the movie aesthetics isn't bad either, the sign is just a tad distracting. Also, they gave Freddy a red bowtie on said posters and I can't tell if it's an honest mistake or something done to show how little the company cares about something as simple as the mascot's bowtie. I got a friend who thinks it's a beta reference so ???

But moving on from that, it's a good map. I'm okay with the idea to use the same aesthetic as Greenville Square, the fleshy mass that breaks through the building is cool and adds to the idea that the place itself is just fucked up, and it's already one of my favorite maps anyway. There's some fun easter eggs, the heads in the backroom follow you, a bloody endo pops out a vent, ovens turn the heat up when you walk past, and Freddy and the Gang try to preform before short circuiting. Strangely enough, there's no real hint of Foxy anywhere besides the crowd poster and his plush. I'm hoping Foxy does make an appearance somewhere in this chapter, even if it's something as simple as him replacing the Blendo in the backroom. Still hoping for a Foxy-Blight skin tho.

You Belong Here.

There's a ton more stuff I probably could've said, and much more stuff that I probably will. The skins, the add-ons, the builds, what Springtrap means for DbD's Future, and how he compares to other anniversary killers such as Ghost Face, Vecna, Singularity, hell even Huntress! But that's for another day. Soon, the PTB will be over, and Springtrap will be locked away. And just quickly, he'll be back. And we have just the place for him.

also i like phantom fear, it's a really funny perk and i like the idea of forcing people not to look at the giant green bunny

#dead by daylight #five nights at freddy's #springtrap

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