#I am a bit of a professional complainer so i could whine about all of this all day

[littleragondin]

9, 10, 24

Thank you for asking!

9. worst part of canon

Like, in general? Hmm... I think it's something that seems a little recent but I hate when canon sacrifices character development/a story arc/common sense to cater to fans. I'm like everyone, right, when something I root for happens I'm happy, but here i'm talking about ... you obviously see that the creator is working toward a specific story and it takes a brutal turn toward something else that you know the fandom has been vocal about. It feels frustrating no matter if I wanted the thing to happen or not! (even worse when it's like, just slapped on the story like 'here you wanted it you get it now shhh').

10. worst part of fanon

I think when it's treated as canon. And by that I mean, not in the 'this is canon to me now' way, but more like sometimes you'll see a headcanon gain popularity in fandom (completely ok) and people adopting it into their own interpretation of canon (perfectly fine too) but THEN acting like people who don't ascribe to this headcanon are not canon compliant or somehow 'wrong'? Hate that. (it's something I've seen more in big fandoms, BL is not too victim of this I feel)

24. topic that brings up the most rancid discourse

Only one?? Ok, ok, joke aside I try to curate my fandom experience as much as possible, so I don't see too much discourse. But I'd say every time the notion of consent and abuse comes on the table. Suddenly you see the wildest takes on it, and the most rank stuff pops up. In BL specifically (but I can only assume it also goes on everything romance) I think the discussion of low versus high heat, sex scenes etc, tends to bring out some suuuuuper bad and nasty takes on both sides.

[perfinn]

translate your vibration

rugby player!soap mactavish x reader

wc: 3.1k

summary: you're a fieldside medic for a rugby league team and you care a bit too deeply for one of the players. he cares right back

cw: NSFW, f!reader, medical inaccuracies, oral (m receiving), oral (f receiving), johnny's face is covered in blood, medical malpractice too probably, semi-public sex, johnny is lowkey concussed so dubcon just to be sure (but he wants this trust)

special thanks to @kitkatscabinet for helping this come to be!

read on ao3, divider by saradika

“Ye come here often?”

It takes everything in you not to laugh at Johnny’s obvious attempt at flirting. Not because he’s misguided or the advances are unwanted– truly, you wouldn't mind at all in any other circumstance. Only right now, you’re trying to assess him for a concussion. That, and he’s still got his mouthguard in so paired with the blood dribbling from his nose, his words are a garbled slur. 

“Stop moving, Johnny,” you tell him, handing him another cloth to press to his bleeding nose– broken again, you’d wager. You’ll get to that in a moment. 

“‘Am no,” he mumbles, lifting his head when you tilt up his chin and giving you a charming grin. Even with the mouthguard and a twisted nose, he’s still the most handsome man on the team. Which, given your own penchant for beefy rugby-type men, is saying something. “Just askin’.”

“It's not helping your case, then,” you say, gripping his jaw tighter when he tries to move again. “Because you know good and well I come here often. I’m your medic.”

“ Mine ?” Johnny echoes with a somewhat-delirious chuckle. “Och, I’m lucky then, have ye all to maself.” 

You want to correct him, to tell him that you're technically the whole team’s medic, but you don't. You let him be, and instead reach to grab a light to check his pupils. He does manage to hold still as you shine it into his eyes, though he’s helped along by your firm grip on his jaw. His pupils react normally, but you’re still concerned. 

“How are you feeling?” You ask, taking a seat across from him as he finally spits out his mouthguard and presses the cloth to his nose. “Head pounding?”

“Aye,” he says, and you frown as you watch the cloth steadily soak with blood. “But it has just been knocked off my shoulders. ‘Am not seeing  two of you, if that's what you mean. Wouldn't be complainin’ if I were, mind you.”

You hum in response, seeming dubious. You suppose that's good, all things considered. Flirting aside, if he is concussed, it's not deeply serious. Still, you’re concerned. But you know Johnny. He loves to play, loves the game. And he’s one of the best players in the club. You glance behind you at the screen that's playing footage of the game, biting your lip. You can see how desperately Johnny wants to get back out there, he’s practically buzzing in his seat. So somehow, you’re going to have to break it to him that you’re keeping him off the pitch for at least the remainder of this half. Naturally, he’ll be a nuisance about it. Whine, complain, probably beg you to reconsider. Part of you doesn't want to deal with the guilty feeling those puppy dog eyes envokes. 

So, you stall. 

“And the nose?”

“Fuckin’ kills,” he confirms, lowering the rag and grunting in satisfaction when no more blood drips free. “Broken.”

“Again,” you sigh, moving to stand up again. The fact his nose has stopped actively bleeding does loosen the vice-like grip of worry that’s wrapped around your ribcage. He’s breathing okay too, which loosens it again. Still, though, it’s suffocating. 

(You shouldn't worry so much about Johnny. He’s been knocked around far more than you could ever handle and played through much worse. But you’re a bit selfish when it comes to Johnny… you care about him more than you ought to as a professional.)

“Cannae complain when it means I get to see ye,” Johnny says with a cheeky grin as you put your fingers to his nose. “I like it when ye dote on me.”

“You won't like me in a second,” you say. He laughs shortly, and you suppose that he assumes you’re talking about setting his nose. In a way, you are. But that's not why he’ll actually be miffed with you. He’d probably never be miffed about setting his nose anyway, he knows it's a necessary pain. 

You give him a smile, gently prodding at his twisted nose to get your hands in the right position, and you don't bother giving him a countdown. Instead, you break the news to him as quickly as you can manage as you snap the bone back into place, “I’m keeping you off.”

“ Fuck ! Yer what?!” Johnny rears back in his seat with the combined impact of the pain and the sudden information. You step back, wringing your hands together as he blinks harshly. You’re sure there’s dots in his vision from the pain, and once his head clears enough he’ll process what you’ve said. 

“Bonnie,” he says slowly after a moment. The sweet name makes your stomach twist in a strange anxious delight. “Tell me yer joking.”

You give him a sheepish smile, unmoving– and he knows you won't budge. He also knows how much his coach trusts you, and if you say he’s out, he’s out. His coach won’t put him back in if you say not to. But you know he’ll argue anyway. “Until the next half, at least. I need to keep an eye on you.”

Johnny groans deeply, sinking down in the chair. He growls your name, and you’re a tad ashamed to say it goes right to your core. 

“We’re only 20 minutes in, I’ll miss half the game! You cannae-”

“You’re staying off, Johnny,” you say firmly. When you’d started on as the Eels’ medic, you’d been a bit shier. But you’d learned quickly that these men were hardheaded in more ways than one, and being shy and timid would get you nowhere in enforcing their safety. So you took note from their coach and got tough with them. It earned you the respect you needed, and also the trust from their coach in knowing that you could handle them. “And you know I won’t be changing my mind. Now if you want to go back on at all, you’ll behave.”

This earns you another groan, but the growly tone of it says something entirely different than the last one. You feel your cheeks warm, and hope to god he doesn't notice. 

“Talkin’ dirty won’t make me forgive you, you ken,” Johnny says, knuckles pressed against his closed eyes. “Ye really won’t budge?”

“You know me better than that.”

“Aye, I do,” he sighs, dropping his hands and lowering his lidded gaze to you. “Lucky yer sweet talking me, lass. Wouldn't be so forgiving otherwise.”

It's not a threat meant to be taken seriously, you know. It's a threat that does something else entirely, but you hurriedly stand and clear your throat. Professionalism, you tell yourself. It's the backbone of your career. To be surrounded by hot, burly, virile men all day and not do anything about it is a god damn superpower. 

“Price will be as disappointed as you are, but he’ll let you watch from the bench-”

“‘Am no going out there,” he says, standing up with less hurry and far more care. Despite his protests, he is heeding your warnings and taking care with his head. “Can watch the game from in here. Got another way for us to pass the time.”

You stop as you’re turning toward the door, glancing back at him while he inches closer to you. “Johnny…”

You know exactly where he’s hoping to go with this. And as much as you want to – god, you want to – you truly can’t. You’d lose your job. Probably lose your licence if the powers that be were feeling extra annoyed by it, and absolutely shatter your reputation in the process. 

But then… that’s only if you get caught. There’s no security cameras in the locker rooms– there isn’t allowed to be. There’s 20 minutes left of the half, no one’s going to come in here until then. You could. You could do it, and be done with it before anyone notices.

(You’re obviously being intentionally naive in thinking you’d ever be satisfied with just one taste of Johnny, but for now it’s the only way you can rationalise it.)

“C’mon, bonnie.”

You turn back round to face him, bouncing a bit on your toes. “We’ll need to be quick.”

Johnny’s bloody and bruised face lights up with a toothy grin and he nods dutifully as he closes the distance between you both. He lifts his hand to place it on your cheek, his palm warm and rough against your skin. “Cannae tell ye how much I’ve thought about this.”

You laugh a bit, staring up at him. You don’t mind so much that he’s still a bit covered in his own blood. “This is so unprofessional.”

“Aye, it is.”

He doesn’t waste another second before he’s putting his mouth on yours, teeth clacking against yours with the desperation and intensity of his kiss. You hear yourself make a soft noise of surprise, or something akin to that. It’s hard to say, hard to organise your emotions when your brain only wants to focus on Johnny, Johnny, Johnny.  

He’s intoxicating. If being around him and simply being flirted with by him was as addictive as it was, actually kissing him, touching him beyond just treating his injuries, is heroin. He’s backing you up toward the lockers before you realise it, moving his hands from your cheeks down to your body. His hands explore you with no inhibitions, his rough hands squeezing at your tits. He groans into your mouth, pulling his lips away from yours to look down.

His forehead presses to yours as he takes in the sight of your body. Of course, you’re fully clothed and it’s nothing he’s never seen before, but it’s the fact that for this moment it’s his.

(Johnny is well aware that half his team wants you. Maybe more than half, but half of them had openly expressed it. While you’re gone, while they’re winding down in the locker room. But none of them could pull it off. None of them had seeped through the cracks in your professionalism and found their way into your pants. But Johnny had. He had barely even started with you, and he's already thinking about how he might gloat about it.)

“Fuckin’ gorgeous, bonnie,” he mumbles, pressing a short kiss to your lips. “Would love to take my time with ye.”

“Me too,” you breathe, arching into his touch as he gropes at your tits. “But we can’t.”

“Aye,” he says, a scowl creasing his bloodied face. “Bloody tragic. S’alright, lass, next time.”

Part of you wants to say there probably shouldn’t be a next time, which is true, but your brain is already surpassing its ability to form sentences– and the idea of denying yourself of more Johnny sounds like a nightmare right now. You can’t even entertain the thought, not while Johnny is pressing his bulge to your leg, groaning as he shamelessly ruts against your clothed thigh. 

“What d’you want, bonnie?” He asks, voice breathy, almost growling in your ear. “Tell me. I’ll give it to ye.”

You have to bite your tongue to prevent yourself from asking him to fuck you outright. You’re not entirely sure why you don’t say that, actually. Maybe it’s the time constraints, or maybe it’s his cock pressing against your thigh, but fuck, you want to taste it.

“Let me suck you off,” you demand unceremoniously. Johnny chuckles, likely at your commanding tone, but nods as he presses a kiss, then another, to your neck.

“Christ,” he says between heated kisses. He seems almost disappointed to let you sink to your knees, leaving his mouth unoccupied. He almost starts panting as he sees you stare up at him from your knees, reaching for the waistband of his shorts. “Yer fuckin’ perfect. Goan then, lass, then I’ll give that pretty pussy of yours the treatment it deserves after, yeah?”

Nodding along to his ramblings, you tug his shorts down and find yourself disappointed as you come face to face not with his cock, but with his compression shorts. The both of you groan, and Johnny almost tears them off in his desperation to remove them, cursing the shorts under his breath– you bite back the urge to remind him of the medical benefits of wearing them; besides, any thought you have is cut off by the sight of his cock, hard and leaky, springing free. 

It's beautiful, which is a strange thing to say about a cock, you know, but there's little else to describe such a pretty thing. You wrap your hand around the base, licking an appreciative stripe along the underside of it. 

“ Fuuuuck ,” Johnny groans, hand falling gently on the back of your head. Not pushing, but just resting there. “Good fucking girl.”

You take the head of him into your mouth, gazing up at him as you begin to take him deeper, bobbing your head along the length of him. Johnny’s head hits the wall as he moans freely, seemingly unashamed of the idea of being caught. He’s lost in the warmth of your mouth, and you can't much blame him, because you’re lost in the weight of his heavy cock on your tongue. 

Johnny’s eyes are lidded as he turns his gaze down to watch you, and you feel his thumb rub gently over the back of your head as you take him deeper, stopping about halfway down his length, and just stroking what you haven't fit. 

“S’alright, bonnie girl,” Johnny mumbles, voice low. “Dinnae have to take me all today, we’ll work at it, aye?”

His muttered promises make you moan, and that makes him moan. You go back to bobbing your head, the locker room filled with the lewd noises of your mouth. 

It doesn't take Johnny an exceptionally long time to start reaching his end, his hips twitching as he holds back on the urge to fuck right into your mouth. He has the self control to care for your comfort at least. 

“Gonna- fuck , lass, can I come in your mouth?”

Were it anyone else, or any other situation, you’d probably say no. But it's Johnny ; and right now the two of you can't exactly afford to deal with a mess. You hum your affirmative, and apparently the slight vibration of it is enough to have him coming. You see the muscles of his lower abdomen tense before you feel his hot release spill onto your tongue. You take every drop, even when it begins to feel a bit much. When his body relaxes and he leans back against the wall, you pull away and swallow, making Johnny groan lowly. 

“Perfect,” he praises, gently guiding you to stand before kissing you again. He licks into your mouth, tongue laving over your teeth like he’s trying to taste himself. Only as you lean to return the favour, he’s flipping the both of you around so your back is against the wall and he’s kneeling before you. 

“Promise is a promise,” he mumbles, tugging eagerly at your leggings. You can tell he’d love nothing more than to rip them from your body, but he exercises enough self control to just drag them down to your calves, your panties going along with them. 

The position isn't ideal, but Johnny’s enthusiasm isn't hindered. He spreads your legs as far as the leggings will allow, one thumb tugging your lips aside. He groans, leaning forward and inhaling deeply. His nose brushes against your clit and you whine, cheeks warming at the lewd gesture. 

“Johnny,” you urge, threading your fingers through his mohawk and tugging gently. Johnny moans. Then, he shuffles forward on his knees and presses his face between your thighs, dragging his tongue over your dripping pussy. 

One of his hands grabs at your thigh as he licks you, slurping desperately at your slickened cunt. Another tug at his mohawk draws his focus to your clit, which he sucks into his mouth with an appreciative groan. Even when he can't talk, Johnny is incredibly loud; there would be no hiding this from anyone listening outside the door. 

He sucks at your clit, hand moving from your thigh to slip a finger into your cunt, making you moan before you slap a hand over your mouth. Johnny’s eyes open, and his eyebrows furrow. 

He pulls away, despite your whined protest, and takes a short breath. “Lemme hear ye, lass,” he encourages. “Don't hide from me.”

“Johnny,” you begin to protest, cutting yourself off with a gasp when he eases another finger into you and curls them right against a spot that has a loud moan falling from your parted lips. 

“That’s my girl,” he praises, ducking right down to graze his teeth over your clit.

His mouth combined with his rough fingers is driving you mad, making you squirm in place as pleasure begins to sear the ends of your nerves. 

“ Johnny !” You cry, head banging against the wall as your orgasm hits you without warning or much buildup at all. It feels as though it's been punched out of you, making your body tense and tremble for a few good seconds, mind floating miles above your body. 

When you return to earth, Johnny has pulled his fingers from your pussy and has them in your mouth, his nose pressed against your clit as he ruts his hips against his hand. You're entranced watching him rub himself through the overstimulation, fingers in his mouth and bruising nose in your pussy. It's only a few more moments before Johnny spills into his fist, a guttural groan muffled by your cunt. 

He sighs, pressing a loving kiss to your pussy. Then, he pulls back, face shiny with your slick, and looks up at you, grinning lopsidedly. “Alright, bonnie?” He asks, like he hasn't just jerked himself to a second orgasm on his own. 

“Yeah,” you breathe, words like laughter. “Are you?”

He nods, shuffling awkwardly to his feet and looking at the mess on his hands. Pants still around his knees, he shuffles over to your medical supplies and gets himself a tissue, wiping his hand off before tugging up his shorts. 

He returns to you, who’s struggling to stand, and gently tugs your pants up for you. He kisses you, softer and sweeter than before, and smiles against your lips. “Ye were perfect, bonnie.”

You hum, shifting your legs so that your underwear doesn't press wrong against your oversensitive cunt. 

The door opens before you can respond, and the first person inside is Johnny’s coach, John Price. The two of you must have somehow missed the siren in the heat of your joint pleasure. The bearded man takes in the scene of the two of you standing so close, and the slick on Johnny’s flushed face, and a heavy sigh leaves his lungs. 

“Fucking hell, MacTavish.”

[the-10th-narcissisticnerd]

UNFAIRLY PUNISHED

Alessia Russo x Reader

Days at the Arsenal WFC Youth Academy can be hard. You know, weeks can get very long until matchday finally comes. However, it seemed as though this week, everyone was on edge. The team was playing Chelsea on Saturday and that got everyone's nerves spiking. As a professional team, you would expect the players to be focused and serious and they are, except for, well... you know... Y/n. She can't deal with the intensity so she's always messing around trying to get out some smiles and she almost always succeeds, that is until coach or skipper get seriously annoyed. Today's victim unfortunately was none other than the Alessia Russo.

It's 9am on a Tuesday morning and everyone is cranky and trying to get things over with. Unfortunately, that wasn't something that would turn off Y/n's chirpy attitude. Chirpy attitudes are okay but Y/n came with an extra dose of mischief. The only thing she could think of to bother her coach was to ''borrow'' his clipboard (which had all of today's practice laid out) that was casually lying on a chair while he was in the toilet. Smiling down at the clipboard she saw Alessia approaching her and the perfect idea popped into her head.

''Hey Y/n.''

''Heyyy Less.'' She greeted, hiding the object behind her back and smiling a tad too much.

''What's up with you?'' the blonde chuckled, totally oblivious.

The pair really got on. They often shared playful banter and loved to hang out with each other. Probably it had something to do with the fact that they stared at each other a little longer than they would anyone else, or he fact that their first instinct was to look for one another when they stepped into a room. It is perhaps because all of these reasons that Y/n loved to tease her and Alessia would never really get mad.

''Nothing much, how are you this morning?''

''Ugh, so tired already and it's not even Wednesday.''

Just then, Y/n heard the toilet flush from the other side of the door and saw the perfect opportunity to set her plan in motion.

''Less, quick. Don't ask. Close your eyes and hold out your hands.'' She blurted quickly.

''Huh? What-''

''Ah ah ah, no questions.''

With a deeps sigh, she reluctantly obeyed. The taller girl quickly left the clipboard in the blonde's hands and made a silent run to the pitch. Just as coach exited the bathroom, Alessia opened her eyes and curiously inspected what was left in her hands.

''Um, Alessia Russo! What do you think you're doing?'' he yelled, snatching the clipboard.

Startled by her coach's shout she turned around and realised the situation she was caught in.

''Oh, no. Sir this is not-'' the blonde's desperate attempts to prove her innocence were in vain as coach was already cranky enough.

''Don't you dare tell me this is not what it is because I am having none of it today. 10 laps for you.''

''But-''

''No buts, and they will be after training.'' At the statement, Alessia's eyes widened knowing she would be far too tired to do them after training. Huffing, she headed for the pitch, frustrated at her friend's antics. As Y/n saw the blonde stomping towards her she smiled triumphantly.

''Aw, why the long face Less?''

''I'm going to kill you. I have to do 10 laps now!'' she complained throwing her hands in the air.

''Oh, no! Bummer.'' Y/n complained back, mocking Alessia in the process.

''And they have to be after training.''

''Well, I did hear you the other day whining about how you wanted to work on your endurance.'' Annoyed the blonde slapped her friend's arm and looked at the ground as they both saw their coach coming into sight. Y/n stared at the girl from her superior height and felt a bit guilty. She bent down her head and whispered into her ear. ''He does seem angry. I'll run them with you.''

At the proposal, Alessia lifted her head and met those brown orbs that always starstruck her. Not needing to say anything else in return she sent her a light hearted smile and instantly, the anger dissipated.

[pablitogavii]

Vacation Mornings

Summary: What does it look like when you get to spend mornings together when pablo is on vacation <33

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Reader

Warnings: none just pure fluff <33

You woke up first so you turned around in Pablo's arms smiling at his peaceful sleepy face knowing just how much he needs sleep after the draining season he had.

When you look at him, he was only your Pablo, an 18 years old sleeping baby, but then you remember all of his achievements and how he has to spend most of his year being the professional player.

When he finally had a break, you wanted him to rest up and recover as much as possible so you decided to let him sleep in for as long as he wants to in the next month.

Your hand touch his face gently careful not to wake him up as you slowly start leaving kisses to his cheeks, then his neck and chest getting a little too much into it. You heard his giggles looking up feeling guilty for actually waking him up but he didn't seem to mind.

"Mmm I love vacation mornings..." he said and you blush moving up and kissing his lips lovingly as he pulled you on top of hi deepening the kiss and holding you tightly in his arms.

"I'm sorry I woke you up cariño.." you say but he shook his head kissing your lips again while his hands went through your curls down your back slowly.

"I could never complain being woken up by your kisses anjo..if only I can always wake up like this" he said sighing and you smiled touching his face and pecking his lips.

"Then I am going to wake you up like this every morning during this vacation.." you said and he smiled nodding his head before you kissed some more.

"Y/n! Should I wear this dress?" Aurora just rushed into the bedroom and Pablo jumped putting the blanket over you on top of him instinctively although you weren't even naked.

"Don't you know how to knock!?" Pablo said and you giggled when Aurora flipped him off and walked to show you the pictures of the dress she was talking about. It looked very nice on her and you said she should wear it.

"Oh and I knew you weren't naked since for the first time there was no noises and I could sleep!" Aurora said before rushing to the door as Pablo threw a small pillow at her.

"I love staying at home for vacation with you but maybe we start locking that door preciosa.." he said and you giggled nodding your head kissing him again.

"This is where we left off, isn't it cariño??" you said and he smiled kissing you again this time with a bit more strength and you moaned quietly.

"Mhmm..morning besitos..I'm going to get hooked on them" he said and you smiled into the kiss nodding your head before laying down on his chest and just cuddling up some more until it's the time to start your day.

When you walked downstairs finally meeting his family already done with the breakfast, you walked up to Belen who giggled at her sleepy son who saw searching for a cup to make himself coffee.

"So grumpy in the morning..like his papa" Belen said and you chuckled walking up to Pablo taking the cup and telling him you'll take it and he should go eat something.

"Te amo princesa..graciass" he said like a whiny child and you giggle nodding your head as he pecked your lips and sit down with his dad to eat some breakfast. You asked Sr. Gavi if he wanted coffee but he politely declined saying he already had his earlier.

"Made you and me some oats, hermanita" Aurora gave me the bowl and I sent her a kiss before finishing Pablo's coffee while munching on it and then bringing it to him kissing the side of his head.

He took it smiling and pulling me to sit on his leg which I obliged as we talked to his dad while finishing our breakfast. He kissed my shoulder softly before sipping on his coffee and finishing his breakfast.

"You kids want to have a pool day today??" Belen said and Aurora nodded at the same time as me while Pablo whined but seeing how excited I was about her he also agreed.

"You're lucky yo te amo muchisimo princesa!" he said and you giggled nodding your head and kissing his lips before you both went upstairs to change into some swimsuits and have another amaizng day on vacation together <33

I know it's short but I really like this idea of Pablo being grumpy in the morning hehe <33

[lesbean05]

Ronancetober day 3

I’m half asleep rn sorry

The prompt Is body/style swap

“Oh, please tell me you’re joking”

Nancy was very not joking. She had spent way too long going over the many ways that this plan could go wrong for it to be because Robin didn’t want to wear her clothes.

“Nance pleeeease!” Robin whined like a toddler with a stupid pout on her face. That, combined with the puppy eyes that she put on that practically sparkled almost broke Nancy. Almost.

“I’m sorry, but the only way we’re going to get in is if we look the part”

Robin huffed. A look of disgust still plain on her face, and Nancy felt bad for making robin do something that she so obviously hated, but she guessed that Robin, like herself, was at least partially used to being forced to wear uncomfortable clothes for formal occasions.

Robin begrudgingly took the frilly outfit Nancy held out for her, and turned around, as if looking for a changing room to magically appear, only to stare at the corner of Nancy’s room. She turned back around awkwardly.

“So do you have a bathroom or… what am I saying, of course you have a bathroom, who doesn’t have a bathroom? What I mean to say is can you please tell me-“

“Robin,” Nancy interrupted as she felt a ramble coming on “just turn around, I’m not going to look”

“O-ok”

……

Once the pair had awkwardly changed with their backs to each other and driven to Pennhurst asylum, Nancy had already had enough of Robin’s complaining about her outfit

“And I cannot deal with these dumb skirts, because they’re always too small, especially yours, I mean I’m not even sure you could fit into this thing it’s squeezing my waist so tightly”

“Robin…”

I mean I can’t believe the need for this amount of frills, like, who decided that that was professional? Who decided that trousers couldn’t be professional?

“Robin.”

“Probably some guy with a weird fetish for frilly clothes”

“ROBIN!” Nancy shouted, finally loosing her nerve, but she instantly regretted it when she looked over and saw Robin’s stunned face, like a deer in headlights.

“Look, if you really hate those clothes so much, just try and think about something else, and I promise I’ll never make you wear anything you don’t like ever again.”

“You better be serious about that last bit cause I’ll hold you to that”

……

“You really are a weird runner!” Nancy’s shock showed through in her exhilarating rush of adrenaline, as her face erupted in the biggest grin she could remember giving.

“Oh thank god I don’t have to wear this shirt ever again, get it off me, get it off me!”

Robin climbed over into the back of the car to change into her own clothes that she had insisted on bringing. Once she flopped back into the passenger seat in her much more comfortable jacket covered in patches, her happy, grinning self was back.

“Robin, can I ask you something kind of strange?”

“Oookay?”

“Is there a reason you hated my clothes so much? I mean, you said a lot about then being uncomfortable but everyone has to deal with uncomfortable clothes every now and then right?”

“Yeah, totally, I just… I’m really not good with… certain things.”

“Like what?”

Robin took a second to think about how to answer that question, which told Nancy that this was about something very important to her.

“I really can’t have my food touching on my plate, and I hate being barefoot in sand because it gets all annoying and gritty and it caught in my socks. I can’t stand walking past motorcycles on the street because they’re so loud, and I especially hate having to stand trying to get an interview with some douchebag who hasn’t met a real woman in his life, in an outfit that so utterly undermines everything about me, and itches and aches and squeezes until I feel like I can’t breathe!”

Nancy stared in shock. “Robin I- I’m sorry.” She pulled the car over and twisted in her seat so that she and Robin were face to face. “I didn’t understand how much this affected you. I should have listened to you when you told me no, and I shouldn’t have been so pushy. I care about you Robin. I care about how you feel.“

Nancy looked up at robin desperately trying to dry her tears on her sleeves.

“You ok?”

“Yeah, fine” Robin sniffed, and smiled slightly to herself.

“You wanna?” Nancy opened her arms to signify a hug, and Robin gladly accepted.

[aechteaseawb]

No powers AU where kaito works part time as a suit actor for zenkaiser. Established relationship. Sorry for being attracted to the kaiser suits all the time.

Kaito likes to think he feels perfectly secure in his relationship.

He is very in love with his boyfriend, and Zox has never given him any reason to think the reverse is any less true. They spend lots of quality time together, and make an effort to include one another in their lives. They also participate in each others' hobbies: Kaito would go to comiket with his boyfriend, and Zox would come watch his hero shows.

And of course Kaito is overjoyed that Zox seems to be interested in his work! Especially something like tokusatsu, which is often seen as childish or unserious! Zox is very supportive, which makes Kaito feel very happy! Zox also might be a little too supportive, which makes Kaito feel a bit complicated, if he’s being honest. And he knows it’s silly, but he can’t help but feel… jealous?? sometimes.

“It’s literally you in that suit, Kaito. You know that, right?” Zox says when Kaito confronts- no, wait, that’s too strong a word. Let’s go with “inquire”. Right- when Kaito inquires about his phone’s lock screen, which is a two-shot taken at a Kikai Sentai Zenkaiger meet and greet event of Zox himself and Zenkaiser, the leader of the team. “You complain about my lock screen not being a picture of us when it’s literally a picture of us.”

“It’s a picture of you and Zenkaiser!” Kaito insists. “And I’m not complaining! I’m… making an observation!”

Because Zox likes Zenkaiser so much better than Kaito first anticipated, going beyond regular encouragement and actually actively collecting merchandise of Kaito’s first part time suit: charms and plushies and action figures and such. And it started out being flattering, but there are times when Kaito isn’t so sure anymore. The other day he stayed over, and he could not reach his boyfriend on this regular-sized double bed due to the giant blockage in the way.

Ah yes. Kaito, his boyfriend, and his boyfriend’s 1.8 meter Zenkaiser dakimakura.

And he knows it’s so silly and childish, but is he allowed to at least feel a teensy weensy lonely? Kaito pokes at the B side face of the Zenkaiser printed on the body pillow case and feels something twist sourly in his stomach.

Zox snorts, but humors him anyway with the observation claim, because he's sweet like that. “Okay, well that doesn’t change the fact that the observation is false. Zenkaiser is you, Kaito. This,” he taps at the screen. “is you. Or are you telling me you skipped work that day? Can’t be. I walked you there.”

“Zenkaiser isn’t me.” Kaito huffs. “It’s basic professionalism to keep the work life separate from the home life, you know, Zox? The kids didn’t come to see Goshikida Kaito, they came to see Zenkaiser! So Zenkaiser isn’t me. Zenkaiser is Zenkaiser.” He reasons. “If anyone, Zenkaiser is Kiichan.” Kaito lets the thought swirl around his skull for roughly two and a half laps before it dawns him. “Oh no! Am I losing to Kiichan?”

“Kaito.” Zox takes his hands gently. “Komagine Kiita is a fictional character.” Which is an extremely weak argument for an otaku like him! When have they ever let the line between 2D and 3D stop them before!

“You can still like him better than me, and it would be so understandable! He’s such a good guy!!” Kaito whines, slumping over the table. “How am I supposed to compete against a hero!”

Zox rolls his eyes. “Honestly Kaito, don’t you like Kiita better than me? What’s with the affectionate nickname?”

“It’s because Kiichan is really cute.” Kaito says.

“And would you like him better than me, as a romantic partner?”

Kaito shakes his head.

“So would I like him better than you when you like him more than I do?”

Kaito shakes his head again.

“And you collect Zenkaiser merch all the time too.”

Kaito nods.

“This is just like that. Except I wouldn’t even think to collect Zenkaiser merch if he weren’t your role, Kaito.”

“I only work part-time at events.” Kaito says quietly, embarrassment catching up to him slowly.

“Doesn’t matter, it’s your first gig.” Zox raises his eyebrows, like he’s challenging any other retorts that Kaito dares utter. “And you better get ready for even more merch of your first major role. I’m going to fill the whole fucking room and there’s not a thing you can do to stop me from supporting the shit out of you.”

“Wow!” Kaito answers a little dizzily. “Do you like me that much?”

“Stupid question to ask, Kaito.” his boyfriend scoffs. “Obviously. I don’t date anyone unless I like him a whole lot.”

“Zox~!” Kaito can feel his eyes watering. “I like you a whole lot too! A whole whole lot!!” He spreads his arms out wide to demonstrate that it’s thiiiiiis whole whole lot! That’s how much! Then Zox chuckles and he thinks that he needs longer arms, much much longer arms if he ever wants to accurately showcase just how much.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Zox says, smiling fondly in the way that makes Kaito’s heart race too fast. “And? Are you finally going to tell me what brought this up in the first place?”

“Well.” Dang it! It’s a silly and childish thing! Kaito is so going to get laughed at! But maybe he deserves a little being laughed at. Besides, he likes making his boyfriend laugh. So braving the mortification, Kaito says, “The……dakimakura.”

And Zox’s eyes widen so expectantly so quickly, even more efficient than the amused curl of his mouth. “What about it?”

“It’s very tall.” Kaito explains, playing with his thumbs. “And I was thinking, what? I can’t hug my boyfriend with this in the way!”

“Kaito, Kaito.” Zox says, and Kaito appreciates him for keeping it in despite the shaking shoulders giving him away. “You can ask.”

“I didn’t want to wake you!” He protests weakly. And fine, maybe a small irrational part of him is worried he’d be dismissed.

“Alright, I get it now. C’mere.” Zox waves him over, and Kaito obliges, confused, when he is yanked by the hand and then caught smoothly in his boyfriend’s arms in an easy slide. “There you go.” His cheek is itchy where Zox’s hair brushes against his face. “Happy with your hug now?”

He fastens his hands around Zox’s back tightly, and squeezes, and it’s so secure here- the hug, that is, so there’s really no other answer than- “Perfectly!”

[cosmicticks]

The virgin snow crushed beneath my feet. A percussion to the serenades of the winter winds. I wandered through the busy concert hall. Trees moshing as gently as one could. Less of a mosh and more of a sway. Unlike the dive I spent my nights, there was no sense of hostility. This was still a dive, nonetheless. I wasn't a fan of nature. In fact, I despised being outdoors. I would much rather be at work hearing the ramblings of those society have left behind than hiking. I was a fan of stories, it's one of the reasons I opened the bar at all. That and the fact that my family had a long history of bootlegging our own liquors. "Give a man a fish and he will eat for a day. Give a man a drink he'll tell you all he has to say," was a line my grandfather instilled in me at a young age. I was the first one to capitalize on this concept in a monetary nature. It was a modest price, but the tales were well worth walking the line between bankruptcy and comfortable living. Comfortable living. I wish this one was closer to the city. I could always turn back, but then this chapter would go unfinished. Maybe not "unfinished" in a literal sense, but it would certainly be boring to read about a man meandering in the snow whining to himself. I hate whining. I would much rather spend my days complaining than whining. I am not a vintner after all just a distiller. My strong work ethic was admirable if I do say so myself. Such a noble trait I was born with. "I should be the main character of this story," thought a lesser man, but not I! For I am merely a bit player in the grand scheme of things. I was a listener not a teller. I hardly had any banking experience. I am merely a bartender, distiller, and man of spirits. A very cold man refusing to whine about the weather, because I know once I find "him" I can show my impeccable and humble listening skills. The strings of wind picked up. The orchestra bloomed among the frozen orchids. I knew I was nearing the spot. I knew I would get to see him.

I reached the spot where I should see him. I could not see him, but this was par for the course. I hated golf, but I liked the term. Reaching into my bag I pulled out the ceremonial picnic blanket I found in a thrift store. Laid out the drink and two cups. Both empty like the seat across from me. The weeping sounds of the wind slowed but did not stop. The crunch of snow. "Are you offering that to me?" the wind called out.

"Of course I am. It's depressing to drink alone."

"Can you see me?"

"I can hear your cries like music to my ears."

The wind let out a mild chuckle. "You're a very rude man."

"I am what I am and like most of my profession you need to be a little hostile to survive."

"Profession?"

"I am what you call a professional listener." People often used bartenders as professional unprofessional therapy. "I've come here to hear."

"Here?"

"I've come here to listen."

"Listen?"

"Listen to the story behind the song, and hopefully the song underneath the story. I want to hear the tale of The Weeping Musician." I began to pour my finest bathtub booze into the ritual department store chalices before me. As the containers filled, so did the image of the man. A young man with the expression of sorrow. A permanent mask of despair. I had finally met him.

I had heard the tale of The Weeping Musician several months ago. Back when the sun was still dancing and warm. The story was relayed to me by an older gentleman on a particularly quiet night. He had learned of my affinity for ghost stories and came with the hopes of finding someone who would care to listen, or at least pretend to. The gentleman with a haggard skin told of a man who cries over his guitar out in the woods of his youth. He swore he heard it with his own soon to be hairy ears. No one had believed him. Apparently, this apparition was being punished for crimes he committed in his life. The only way to cope with his egregious sins were with the guitar God had left him as torment. What crimes were anyone's guess, but they varied from person to person. Some ranged from crimes as mundane as theft, to much more serious acts of murder, and possibly even plagiarism. Ghost stories are nothing new, and as a bartender you quickly pick up on what is and is not bullshit. This one seemed likely to be worth looking into. I hadn't heard much of tragedy at the time, and I was interested in hearing this one firsthand. Whoever said, "dead men tell no tales," is a liar. I know from experience that they most certainly do.

"Won't you tell me about why you play that guitar? If I like what I hear maybe, I'll offer you one of my drinks." A momentary silence befell upon my request. Just faint tugging of ethereal strings. For a ghost, his fingers were awfully rough. Remnants of blood stained the instrument from the days of when his heart would beat. The harrowing yet beautiful song echoing through the forest. It continued on and on and on and on and on and on like a bloated progressive rock track until finally I got my answer.

"I'll play you a song of truth."

***

I was but a young boy when I was given my first guitar. Coming not from money, but from work I had to learn on my lonesome. Day in and day out I would pluck the strings as I do now. Until my fingers would cry red tears. My father, a craftsman, would allow me the pleasure of accompanying him on days mother was too ill to watch me. I would play a careless tune to the beat of men at work. It was one of these trips to the village that I encountered her. The young maiden of the home. A large soon to be manor near the central square. Her father was a nobleman of some kind, it mattered not to myself, for I was a child. Class has no place in the mind that still finds bodily functions humorous. The noble had ordered my father and his men to construct a new home near his place of business. I caught the youngest daughter from the corner of my eye smiling and swaying. The size of a shrub, but the presence of majestic oak. I must have been playing far too rough as a string snapped from my neck. I looked directly to her. I will never forget the warmth of my cheeks on that afternoon. It was not a particularly hot summer day, but I alone could feel the intensity of the sun. She ran off in a hurry. At the time I had not the faintest idea of why she truly did. I assumed my uncouth playing was not to her liking. Little did I know that on that particularly average day, my once broken string was now bonding each of us.

I spent days practicing and writing a melody for the young lady. I would follow my father everyday to the noble's soon to be home to steal a glance of my flower. During the day I would play and she would dance. At night I would practice, and she would rest. I would not dare to play for her the song that marched to the beat of my heart, but she would still smile. She would still dance. It was young love.

As the years passed, I grew more and more skilled in the family trade. I would play the guitar on the job to the amusement of my fellow ruffians. We would sing the raunchiest of songs, eat the poorest of meals, and smoke the cheapest of tobacco. It was a modest, but happy life. I enjoyed the men, and I enjoyed the tobacco. After work I would walk into the city square, it was now much more developed thanks to our efforts. I would talk to her as she practiced her lessons. It was around this time the hostility between her father, and I would begin to surmount. He did not enjoy my courting of his daughter, but he reluctantly accepted. After all she was his precious. The youngest must be protected, especially one as ill as herself. Did I neglect to mention her illness? I apologize. It is an important part of our story, but it is not something I consider integral to her as a living being. To me she was not known as the noble's unwell daughter. She was my love. She was my song. I digress. Her father did not approve of my courting of his daughter, but he reluctantly enjoyed it. As a craftsman I was not fit to hold her gown. As a musician I was fit to hold her hand. As long as we were in the throes of young and naïve adoration, he saw less issue with our arrangement. After all this was not permanent, and he too loved the way she illuminated when she had the strength to dance. It was not until I intended to hold her hand until death do us part that the hostility turned to volatility.

We married and her father had disowned her. The door was open for her return had she come to her senses and left the life of a worker's wife behind her. I worked many jobs a day to pay for the doctors and continued to write her song when she was not near. It became something I could no longer achieve. I would go days without eating so we could afford the nutrients to keep her healthy. As healthy as she could be. I never told her such a thing, but I suspect she always knew. If we had each other, and she could dance, we were happy. We continued for two winters until it became too much. Her illness overwhelmed her body. She began to wilt. I sold my guitar to afford the practice of a doctor three villages over. There was nothing he could do. He took his pay and with it he left. I spent her final days profusely apologizing. Her weak demeanor did not negate the wondrous oak I had seen a decade prior. If she had not given me her hand she would not be in this situation. She would not be dying. I begged God. I prayed to Eastern mystics. I committed to rituals of sin. I did everything I could as a man of spirituality to bring her back. Nothing worked. She exhaled the last note of her melody. On that day I met him. I met the devil.

I received a knock on our shabby door. A man with a foul and sinister smile awaited me on the other side. He told me that he had powers to bring my bride to life, however it would cost us. Initially I played the role of a skeptic, but he assured me by name, and offered me the guitar I had sold. The guitar I am playing for you today. He told me that if I wanted my flower to bloom yet again, I would have to give up our hands. I would have to keep them working for her. If I were to take up the guitar, he could bind the string that connected our hearts to the guitar itself. If I played, her heart would beat. If I played, she would no longer be able to gaze at my visage. I accepted without a moment of hesitation. I believe her life to be more valuable than that of my own. I took the guitar and strummed. I picked and played. She did not rise. I continued to play until the crack of dawn. The man had taken his leave hours before. He left with nothing but a smile. I did not lose hope that she would wake. As the sun rose, so did the rose before my eyes. Tears running down her cheeks.

***

"And that's last I saw of her. Knowing my maiden could live and love again was enough. I played my tune out of the village and have been here ever since. Knowing that if I drop for a moment so shall she." I could see the tears flowing from beneath the mask.

"I see." I pushed the cup toward him. Spilling at least a few cents worth on the holy Superman blanket.

"Do you believe I have made an error in my judgement young booze maker? She must be out there living in the agony of wasting her youth on a ruffian such as myself."

"I think it's noble. You want those you love to be happy even if that happiness is not with yourself. That takes a lot of courage. I do think you should have left a note at least."

"...."

He was not amused with that one. I reassured him that I was pulling his leg. He didn't know the expression, but I eventually got it through to him. "Why are you still playing though?"

"Because she is alive."

I felt a twinge of pain at the delusion of this spirit. "Humans don't live that long."

"I am not a fool."

"Correct. You are an old fool. That was hundreds of years ago. She has long since passed away."

"How can you be so sure?"

"First of all that village doesn't exist anymore. It's been turned into a train station."

"For soldiers?"

"Not quite. I can assure you she is long dead, and I'm sure you know that to be true. Possibly for a long time."

The Musician paused for a moment.

"Was this all for not?"

"I don't think so." I said with uncertain certainty. "People around here tell stories you know. I'm sure you had legends in your day. There's a story about you. Children and old drunks believe that they can hear your song."

"They do not know who I play for."

"That's partially true. There is another legend around these parts. There is both The Weeping Musician and the tale of The Dancing Fool.

"She is not a fool!" I really pissed him off.

"To be a fool is to believe, and to believe is to be a fool. She was most certainly a fool. There is nothing wrong with being a fool. I was a fool for coming out all this way for a concert. They tell of a young woman who was very ill. On the day the angels were to take her to Heaven she heard a song and turned away from the gate. The angels told her she can go back as long as the song lasts and listen until she is old and grey. She woke up to the most beautiful song she had ever heard. She was so moved by the act of this musician that she cried tears of joy. She knew that he had put on this gig... show... played this melody just for her. She was so moved she promised to move and never stop. She danced. Every morning she rose she would dance around the village. Her dancing was so infectious that the village children would join her. She would cry, laugh and dance until her dying day. She continued to grow and continued to love. She always brought a smile to the face of those who were lucky enough to join in on the foolish dancing. Some people say when you gave your whole heart to her dance, you would hear the faint pulls of a guitar string. She brought many people a lot of happiness and still does. Rumour has it that if you see the dancing fool, you will live a long and joyous life. They have been separated by time, but I know now that these two legends are connected by the same narrative string.""

"How old did she live?"

"Well into her nineties. Turns out dancing is great cardio."

I sat and listened. I smoked one of the worst tasting cigarettes money could by. He played and cried. Eventually like all that flows through time the tears had subsided. "This is a beautiful song."

"It's the song I wrote for her. Our song. I never got to play it for her when we were together. I assumed she had never heard it."

"I hope you can find solace in the joy it did bring her, but I think it's time for you to close the curtain and bring this song to an end."

"What will happen of the Weeping Musician and Dancing Fool?"

"People will always believe, and because of that people will sing, and people will dance." I gave him the warmest smile I could on this cold day, and on that cold day the music finally stopped. The Musician leaned forward and took a drink of my fine cheap booze.

"I missed the taste of poor man's booze." He laughed. "I guess people really don't change."

"People change. I just don't think a noble like yourself had to." He was overjoyed at my horrible line.

As he put the cup down, he slowly began to fade. The guitar passed through his legs. At that moment the legend of The Weeping Musician left our realm, and the legend of The Loving Song began. "Thank you..." I had heard him faintly whisper. It did not sound like my name. Possibly the name of a female, but that's just my humble nature of course. I picked up his guitar as he moved on. I strummed a note I think. I wouldn't know if it was music or noise. After all, I'm not a musician. I am merely a bartender, distiller, a man of spirits, and he was The Loving Musician.

[seokjins-luigi]

warmth | KSJ

pairing ↠ husband!jin x reader

genre ↠ established relationship | smut | fluff

word count ↠ 1.1k

18+ | warnings ↠ cockwarming, language.

summary ↠ your husband seeks your attention after a long day of work.

A/N ↠ I'm sorry everyone I just got obsessed with this idea and >I HAD< to write it ok I AM SORRY ~ even tho I'M FLUSTERED feedback is always appreciated, yall 💜

permanent taglist ↠ @goldenhoney-cas

“Jagiya”, you hear your husband’s voice whispering in your ear softly, as he shakes your shoulder in a lightfeather touch, waking you up tenderly. “I’m home”.

You squeeze your eyes and open them slowly, still trying to adjust to the dim light coming from the bedside lamp near you. Seokjin has the habit of turning it on whenever he walks into the bedroom, so you’re used to having them on. Unfortunately, you’re also used to falling asleep while you wait for your husband to come back from work. Not that you were complaining, this promotion was his biggest professional achievement and you’re very proud of him for accomplishing it and, to be honest, being married to a CEO had silver linings as well, but most of the time you just missed him.

“What time is it, love?” You ask, still a bit dazed from having just been awakened.

“It’s past two am”, he answers right away, probably having just checked it himself.

“My god… This late, babe?”

“All thanks to the eight hour time difference, jagi… And the meeting went on forever. I was exhausted, but I couldn’t cut them off. I'm trying to convince them to invest in our company, after all. I’m sorry”, he coos, as he towel-dries his black locks, looking at you with a guilty expression. “I couldn’t wait for that shit to be over so I could come home and enjoy a nice home cooked meal prepared by my jagi…”

“It’s ok, babe, it’s your job… Come here, the least you can do for me now is being the big spoon”, you whine, not completely awake yet, arms extended in his direction making grabby hands. “I missed you, Jinie”.

Your husband tosses the towel on the floor as a smirk appears on his plump lips and as soon as you know, he’s got his body pressed onto yours from behind, arms around your waist as he nuzzles his face at the crook of your neck.

“I missed you too, jagi”, he whispers, holding you tighter and you can already feel him semi-hard against the warm flash of your ass. “Why do you do this to me?”

“What, babe?”

“Why do you have to sleep wearing my shirt and the fucking tiniest piece of lingerie you own?” He groans against the sensitive flash of your neck. “You know it drives me fucking crazy, don’t you? Now I’m hard… How am I supposed to sleep like this?”

“Oh, babe, not today… I’m really tired, Jinie. I’m sorry”, you whine, pouting, which only makes your husband even more turned on. “I promise I’ll be good to you tomorrow, but right now, I just need to get some sleep”.

In all honesty, it was really hard saying no to your husband, specially because after you’ve felt his arousal, you could already start to feel the familiar sense of wetness between your legs. But you’ve had a long day too, you went to work too, you got stressed there too, came back home, prepared a full course meal and had to eat all by yourself, because of Seokjin’s endless meeting. You didn’t complain, after all, you know it’s part of his job. You’ve fallen asleep while scrolling through your feed, even though you tried waiting for him awake. You try not to stress too much about it. You know he’s as madly in love with you as you are with him, but you allow yourself to sulk a little from time to time.

Seokjin gets silent for a while, but then, after letting out a noisy breath, Seokjin plants a kiss on your cheek, humming in agreement with your pleading.

“Of course, baby. I’m sorry that I woke you up, it’s just that… I really miss you”, he whines, his hot breath fanning against your skin.

You shake your head negatively, dismissing his apologies. Nestling against your husband's warmth, you close your eyes, taking in his scent and allowing your body to completely relax in his arms.

“Baby, do you know what would help me fall asleep?” He whispers hesitantly against your ear.

“What?”

“Being inside of you”.

You simply nod at him and he bites softly the skin of your neck, which has you biting your own lips in order to stop a moan to escape. He knows your body too well, he knows exactly where to find your weak points. He knows what he’s doing. Since the first time you tried cockwarming, it became one of his favorite things in the world and you have to admit you enjoy it quite as much. Not only did you find it extremely hot, but simply feeling him inside of you, warming himself up between your legs was also an act that highlights how intimate you and your husband are and you simply love it. You two enjoy it a lot more than you should.

He slides your panties to the side and inserts a digit between your slightly wet folds. “Oh fuck, I can’t believe you’re wet for me already, jagi”, he breathes faintly.

“You were the o-one humping me five minutes ago, Seokjin… What did you expect?” You concentrate on not choking on your words as he bends his finger inside of you.

“Then there’s no need for me to stretch you out then, right?” You shake your head no. “Then spread your legs for me just a bit, babe”.

He licks his fingers and honestly, you need to make indiscriminate use of your self control at this point. You do as he asks you, giving him space to adjust his hips and push himself slowly inside of you. After two years of marriage, you already had enough time to get used to his length, but he is always very careful not to hurt you at first. Both of you let out shaky breaths when he’s accommodating inside of you, your husband fighting the urge to thrust into you and you fighting the urge to ride him.

“Oh, babe- I love being inside of you”, he squeezes your uncovered ass with his large hands. “I’m gonna make sure I get home early tomorrow night, so I can fuck you properly”.

“You better…”

He wraps his arms around your waist again, snuggling against your body, both basking in the glorious sensation of him being inside of you. After the long day you’ve had, all you could ask for was ending it by sharing a cozy, intimate moment with the man you love. Between some love confessions and a good number of pecks on your neck, you drifted off to a sound sleep in the arms of your husband.

[comfortscripts]

Hi <3

Could you do how each Marauder would kiss you for the first time? Like the confidence levels for each would be soooo different I think and just the way they'd go about it, idk but yeah

First Kiss ¬ Marauders

Of course! Honestly, I have so many thoughts but....

Also for this, I just did James, Sirius and Remus but I am willing to do other Marauder era characters (including girls) in the future.

James Potter

"Honestly James, it's embarrassing at this point. Just admit I'm the better keeper"

This had been going on for years. Both of you claiming to be the best keeper in Hogwarts, neither willing to submit. Some say it's rivalry, some say it's unresolved sexual tension but whatever it was, you and James loved it.

"Let's make this interesting, shall we?" The Gryffindor retorted with a smirk. "Whoever saves more goals during practice wins and that's the end of it."

"Okay, deal Potter but if I win, you have to stand up in the Great Hall and announce that I'm the best. Got it?"

You see the flash of fear run across his face before he responds with his same cocky smile, "And when I win, I want a kiss."

Before you could make some form of objection through your flushed cheeks, James was already in the air and prepping for the friendly competition.

You were both on fire. The pitch replicated a professional practice rather than a school-sports one but for every one he saved, you saved two. Whilst you did sometimes long to feel the Gryffindor's lips against your own, the idea of him praising you so publicly was too good to give up. And it seemed like the push worked, you won.

Landing back on solid ground, the two sweaty keepers reunited. James' couldn't even be upset at his loss when he saw your face. Pride beaming through your smile as your flushed cheeks framed it and your skin glistened. You were magnificent.

"Good game, I guess you really are the best" Offering his hand out for good sportsmanship hand shake.

Grabbing his hand and closing the space between you, now chest to chest. "I think you deserve a consolation prize for your efforts today, Potter."

The collision of your lips against his was more thrilling than any quidditch match. Pent up tension releasing in waves as you feel the bespectacled boy get over his initial shock and lean into the kiss. Lips melding and moving together, all whilst allowing your hands to grip his broad shoulders. Pulling away to regain your breath, you look up at the flustered boy as he too, steadied his breathing.

"Well, I think in some ways we both won" Joked the red and gold keeper. Causing you to giggle at his cheesy flirts.

"I guess so but you still have to do the announcement. Maybe you should wear my house colours for effec-" Before you could complete your sentence, his lips were back on yours. Not that you minded.

Sirius Black

Hogwarts was a soothing place in general but nothing could beat the astronomy tower. The atmosphere, the fresh crisp air and the silence meant that it was almost the perfect way to escape. And tonight, that's what two young Gryffindors needed.

Leaning against the brick tower, you let out a sigh of relief. Worries and fears washing from your bones as the stars shimmered in the sky and your best friend blew a puff of smoke.

"You what's crazy, the stars have seen everything. Love, happiness, life but also pain, suffering and death. Yet they still shine so brightly, it's inspiring."

Sirius was never a stranger to profound thoughts, especially on these late night excursions but this shook you. Pushing off the cold wall, you shuffle towards the dark-haired boy before sitting shoulder to shoulder and admiring the stars alongside him.

"You're right. I guess that's why you are named after a star."

You knew how much pain the boy had bundled up within himself but still, he could outshine any star in the galaxy. He had endured more pain than he could ever deserve but still managed to light up people's lives and make people feel more love than most.

Sirius swore his heart stopped at your words. His brain was telling him that it was obviously you hearing him wrong or a joke, he managed to choke out a small "What do you mean?"

Turning to look at the oblivious boy, you could almost chuckle at his adorable furrowed eyebrows and quirked smile but instead, you offered the truth.

"Sirius, you are a star. You have been through so much that I couldn't even begin to imagine but every day, you get up and make the most of life. Bringing smiles to peoples' faces, making all of us laugh with your pranks, loving your friends and protecting us no matter what. You are the impressive one and honestly, those stars pale in comparison to you."

Gazing into his eyes, you saw emotions swirling through his stormy orbs. Processing your words and conjuring up a reaction but nothing seemed right. How could he respond to you? His love for you already threated to spill out every time your eyes met but now, he worried that opening his mouth would release his confession.

As yours eyes stayed locked onto one another, neither of you noticed your bodies unknowingly leaning towards each other. Sirius notices your eyes flicker down to his lips, this was all the confirmation he needed before leaning in and meeting your supple lips.

The love that radiated off the two of you was more powerful than any spell you had learnt. Feeling the warmth spread through your being as Sirius deepened the kiss, trying to get closer. His arms wrapped around your waist as he drank in your sweet lips. You felt all the hidden emotions, all the pain and sadness of the night drift away into the distant sky.

All that mattered was you had Sirius and he had you.

Pulling away only to find yourselves lovingly embracing the other, protecting your bubble of happiness just a while longer. Sirius always knew that you made him shine brighter but now, he felt that he could outshine the stars.

Remus Lupin

Rainy evenings were always your favourite. But tonight was perfect.

James, Sirius and Peter were off pulling a prank on some unsuspecting 2nd year Ravenclaws, whilst you and your long-term crush were huddled up in the common room with two muggle books and two steaming cups of hot chocolate. You had no idea how the lanky wizard looked so comfortable on the sofa but you weren't complaining as you felt your knee bump his every once and awhile, sparks erupting at the physical contact.

Diving into the pages of the latest muggle book Lily gifted you, becoming so lost within the words that you didn't notice the chocolate moustache you had left after your previous gulp. The rich chocolate liquid which formed a frame over your plump lips caught the attention of Remus, who had be sneaking longing glances at you all night.

Your book induced trance was broken by Remus' hearty chuckle, a sound that you could listen to on repeat. Breaking away from the words, you looked up to find the werewolf already looking at you with an amused look painting his handsome face.

Immediately becoming conscious of the fact that the amusing thing was you, you released a small whine, "Remusss, why are you laughing at me".

"You have a bit of, well. You have a hot chocolate moustache"

Eyes widening in embarrassment, you quickly attempt to wipe away any chocolatey remnants with your sleeve before presenting your face back to the taller boy and asking, "all gone?"

Scooting over so he was looming over your figure, hand resting on your knee to steady himself. Remus reached up to gently wipe away the remaining flecks of chocolate that settle in the corners of your lip, allowing his thumb to caress the outline of your bottom lip.

The moment seemed to last forever, with the both of your eyes locking together as the young Gryffindor cautiously traced the outline of your jaw before entangling his hand within your hair, bringing your lips together.

The overwhelming sense of emotion accompanied by the rich lingering taste of chocolate engulfed the both of you as you leant into the kiss, resting hands on his shoulders. Remus raised his hand to grasp your hip and slowly move you closer toward his embrace.

You always thought that your first kiss with the werewolf would be more passionate and spark filled but no, this felt like home. This felt like you had fallen into his arms and discovered you belonged.

Breaking away, you stared into his amber orbs. Looking for any sign of regret or fear but you found that his eyes were filled with adoration and love, matching the very same look you held for him.

Giggling as the now giddy Gryffindor pressed a flurry of light kisses on your plumped lips, you knew that this would beat any love-story in any muggle book because this, this was perfection.

[wheeler-beretta-harwood]

Okay so I have been thinking long and hard about what my request would be and I finally figured it out. Could you do one with Cash going to pick an engagement ring out for his girlfriend and he brings Dax with him?

I am melting on the inside. What a cute idea. Hope you like it, sweetheart!

Also, my first request, so yay!

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

The Bride (Cash Wheeler x Reader...+ Dax Harwood)

"Why are we here again?" Dax whined dramatically as he walked next to his friend through the seemingly endless hallway of the mall.

"You said you'd help me with any romantic issues as you are - and I quote - 'the one happily married with a beautiful daughter who's got it all figured out.' So stop complaining now. We're here." Cash had stopped in front of a fancy jewelry store, and was nervously looking at the rings displayed in the window.

It took Dax a moment to process what his tag team partner was hinting at and as soon as it dawned on him, he, literally, lost his shit. "No way! Really?! I mean, of course, really, it was obvious that it would happen sooner or later. But wow! Congratulations, man!" He said while putting Cash in a bear hug.

"Dammit, Dax, stop it! People are looking!" He wiggled out of his friend's grip right after noticing the sales assistant curiously looking at them from the inside. Great, fucking great. "And don't congratulate me, she hasn't said yes yet."

"As if Y/N would ever say no to you!"

"Well, she always said she didn't wanna get married, so..."

"Yeah, she also said she didn't like living together with someone because she needed her space, and you've been totally fine these past two years. She's said a lot of things, but you changed her mind on all of them. This won't be any different. The real important question is: Am I going to be your best man?"

The younger man rolled his eyes. "Why else would I've brought you here with me?" He said as he held the door open for Dax.

As soon as the two men entered the jewelry store, Cash felt overwhelmed and completely lost. He didn't quite understand why though. He knew you like the back of his hand, so it shouldn't be too hard to get the perfect engagement ring, right? Then why did it feel like an insurmountable obstacle now?

Before Cash could chicken out and turn on his heel, the sales assistant walked over to the two, asking how she could help them. As Cash just stood there dumbfounded, Dax decided to speak. "My friend here is looking for an engagement ring."

"What size?"

Dax looked over at his friend, who'd finally come back to his senses. He fumbled one of your rings that he had previously snatched from you out of his pocket and handed it over to the woman. She looked at it for a second, then back at the two men.

"It seems a bit small. Are you sure it is going to fit?" She glanced between Cash and Dax for a moment, but Dax didn't catch on. Cash, however, understood right away what she was trying to say. "Oh no, we're just friends. He's my best man. The ring's for my girlfriend."

"Oh, I am sorry. I didn't mean to...D-Do you have anything specific in mind? Has anything on display caught your eye?" She seemed flustered, which made Cash chuckle, but also shake his head as a response to her question.

Meanwhile, Dax realized that she'd assumed they were getting married TO EACH OTHER. He looked over to the other and whispered. "And she thought I was the bride out of the two of us?!"

"Shut up, Dax." Cash tried to frown at him, but couldn't help but laugh at the whole situation. If only he could tell you right away about this weird encounter...but he'd have to wait until he popped the question to you.

"Well, tell me about your girlfriend. What does she like? What kind of jewelry does she normally wear?" The saleswoman still seemed uncomfortable, but tried her best to stay professional. Cash smiled at her, wanting to put her out of her misery.

"Uhm, she's - she's amazing really. I have a job where I am travelling a lot, and she never complains about it. She's very smart and kind of nerdy, and loves animals and the mountains. She's also funny as hell and very caring of other people. Just a free spirit, in general. Normally, she doesn't wear a lot of flashy jewelry, but I want this ring to stand out. You know, no overly huge diamond, she would most likely get stuck on that and get herself hurt, as she is a bit clumsy. But it should still catch her attention every time she looks down at her hands...if that makes sense."

When Cash finished, he realized that both people in front of him smiled at him. Maybe he had rambled a bit too much about how great you were...

"She sounds like a good catch. Over here, we have some rings with smaller diamonds. If you want it to stand out, maybe you could pick one of these eternity rings. They have small diamonds all around and look very cute and sparkly. Plus their endless stones represent never ending love." She showed Cash a set of rings that all looked very pretty, but were not quite what he had in mind.

"Do you have one of these with maybe a single stone in a different color? Preferably a soft pink or lavender? These are her favorite colors."

"You are lucky, we do." She said before moving to the back of the store to get the item requested.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Dax was at it again.

"I can't believe it...If anything, you would be the bride. I mean, look at you, and look at me. It's obvious." He gestured between the two as if it'd prove his point.

"Pffff, you'd look adorable with a veil, Dax. But no offense, I'd be hella disappointed if you'd come down the aisle on my wedding day and not Y/N."

Cash teased, loving the playful frown on his friend's forehead. Both of them laughed a bit, but stopped once the sales assistant came back.

The ring in her hand looked so beautiful with the single pink stone - a diamond, too, he learned - Cash knew right away that it was the one. He wanted to put that ring on your finger. Next to him, Dax agreed. "That is so Y/N. Right, Cash?"

Cash simply nodded and smiled down at the ring.

After a moment, he added. "Yes, that's the one. I'll take it."

The saleswoman was happy she could help him find the right ring and named the price while putting it in a black, velvet box.

Cash gave her his credit card and thanked her for her help, telling her he wouldn't have found such a beautiful ring without her. He praised her maybe a little more than necessary, but he felt it was the right thing to do to make her feel more comfortable.

As soon as they were out of the store, Dax slung his arm around the other man's shoulder and ruffled his hair. "I can't believe my boy is finally getting married. You grew up so fast!"

"You're a pain in the ass, Dax, you know that, right?"

"Oh shut up, you love me!"

"I do. I just love Y/N more." He replied, laughing at the mock gasp leaving Dax's mouth.

[unholyplumpprincess]

Hiiyaaa!! I was wondering if you could write a scenario with Octane and a Engineer reader who (constantly) fixes his legs for him but hes always super flirty and obnoxious about it, maybe, possibly leading to something 👁👁

Uhm yes absolutely I am so down for this this is really cute.

Warnings: SFW, KINDA suggestive but more flirty at the end, Reader is gender neutral

_____

Ajay needed a break from constantly putting him back together- even Octavio knew that. So that's what you had been at first, just another hire-on from the Syndicate to give their legend a break. At first, Octavio had been a bit...snobbish. Huffing and whining that you took your time, that you were too slow, that Che could have had it done in no time-

He learned quickly that you didn't take kindly to his complaints when you deliberately took your sweet time inspecting every nut, every bolt, every wire with a coy, sweet voice going, "Oh but you already complain I'm taking too long- what's a little extra security, hm?"

You'd had bite, and he liked that. And soon enough learned to accept your presence. Falling a bit too quickly for you when you bit back at his quips, or when you held his hips a bit too tight one time and told him to 'sit his ass down'. You'd felt his eyes glued to the back of your head that day, hearing the thrumming of his fingers tap-tap-tapping on the bench in excitement.

The flirts started after his annoyances. Where you'd be sitting on your knees and reattaching your legs and you could feel his grin under his mask when he'd ask things like. "Sooo, when do you get off again? Wanna take a spin on the Octrain after this, ah?" and "Witt's got a good deal happening at the bar later. You down to have a break? I'll buy."

You always turned him down out of professionalism. But even you had to admit that there was something...charming about him. Even if he was a little shit. Like when he won his last match and had blown a kiss at the camera and said, "That's for my number one fan and favorite engineer." And it'd made you red, covering your mouth to hide your dumb smile.

So the next time when he goes. "Alright, alright, okay- what about today? Wanna go out for a drink? Come oooon, it'll be fun!" He knows you'll say no, his eyes narrowed in a smile and looking down at you between his thighs with one of his legs attached that swings while you reattach the other.

"Okay," You say in agreement, popping the joint back into place and starting to lock it. "But you're buying me dinner too. I haven't eaten all day."

The shock in his eyes through his goggles is enough to make you laugh when you stand up. His, "Wait- woah- what- really?! Man, and here I thought you didn't like me!" All joyous as he jumps down, kicking his legs to test and make sure everything is in place. When he starts bouncing in place, you know he's grinning now. "I'll get you more than dinner- can I offer you dessert too?"

It's a flirt. A blatant one. One spoken with finger guns and making you roll your eyes. But you can't help but smile a bit yourself when you reply, "Maybe. Depends on if you're a good boy. Think they'll have a cream pie?" Spoken with a pat to his masked cheek and a flirty undertone as you turn your heel and beckon him to follow with a complaint of your hunger.

You'd never catch him admit it, but damn did you make him blush like no other.

[ask-feederjin]

Hi!!~~ <3 So... How much has Jungkook's physical condition changed?

Do you think he tires easily with physical tasks? I can only imagine him puffing all the time ><

Jin had just put the final revisions on a work project when a notification popped up on his computer.

“Hi!!~~ <3 So... How much has Jungkook's physical condition changed?

Do you think he tires easily with physical tasks? I can only imagine him puffing all the time ><”

Oh if only, Jin sighs softly. He wishes he could say that their youngest does, but that would be a lie. Either way, Anon needs an answer!

-

Oh, he wishes! Poor Jungkook has a ridiculously fast metabolism, much to his dismay. It was great for him when he was a gym rat, effortlessly maintaining his washboard abs. But now it is his ultimate curse.

We’ve been doing research on how to lower or, in Jungkook’s words, “completely ruin” his metabolism.

So far, we’ve chosen to have him switch to a completely sedentary activity level, bulk up on carbs, flip into “starvation mode” between stuffings and replacing that banana milk he likes to drink with soda. We also heard that lack of sleep can contribute to a drop in metabolism, but I vetoed that one. Jungkook may be willing to suffer sleep deprivation to get fatter, but that’s not something I’m willing to support.

On the topic of him getting tired… Hmm… I think it would only really happen if he was going out of his way to be active? Like, him just walking around or lifting basic things doesn’t phase him yet, but exercise on the other hand… Give me one second!

-

“Jungkook!” Jin called out.

“Yeah?” He heard back. It sounded like Jungkook had just woken up from a post breakfast nap.

“Could you come here please, baby?” Jin was now curious. How has his physicality changed in the past two months? Would he get out of breath easily? Or has his years of exercise and healthy eating still blocked that?

“Do I have to?” He whined. Jin felt butterflies in his stomach at just how lazy his boyfriend has gotten.

“Yes!” Jin laughed.

After what sounded like some shuffling and grunting, Jungkook sleepily wandered into Jin’s office.

“You never make me come to you…” The youngest complained halfheartedly, scratching his tummy.

“Forgive me just this once, your highness.” Jin snarked back. “I just wanted to… do a little test.”

Jungkook perked up the the word ‘test’. Jin knew he would never pass up an opportunity to prove himself.

“What do I need to do?” The younger man asked excitedly, watching as Jin pushed his rolling desk chair to the corner of the room.

“Well… first I’m going to need you to stand riiiight here. There, perfect!” Jin maneuvered the taller boy to stand right in front of his computer screen. “Wait just a second, babe.”

The screen suddenly changed from spreadsheets to a camera screen. Jin pressed record…

-

The video starts off in a well kept room. Orderly bookshelves line the background, tiny potted vines trailing down the fronts.

Pulling away from the screen, you catch a blurry glimpse of knobby knuckles and trimmed nails. Front and center stands a rather tall young man. He has short, shiny black hair and warm brown eyes. Said eyes are currently large with confusion.

The young man is wearing a rather ill-fitting set of pajamas. The bottoms fit well enough, but the top’s buttons are slightly strained. A soft looking paunch hangs out from the too small shirt, wobbling as the young man shifts uncertainly. He rests both hands on the mass, rubbing slowly.

“Okay, -ahem-.” You hear a man’s voice says off camera say. “Hello, everyone! This is the first video I’ll be uploading to the blog, yay! It was originally going to be the third month weigh in, but it seems I just couldn’t wait.”

The young man on screen chuckles a bit, relaxing at the lighthearted conversation.

The voice resumes speaking, “Either way! We’re here now! This is Jungkook, some of you might recognize his face from the profile section of the blog, but if you haven’t then here he is! Say hi, Kookie.”

Jungkook blushes, waving at the camera. “Hi guys… I’m uh, I’m Jungkook.”

…

“Oh! And I’m Jin!” The disembodied voice frantically shouts. Jungkook bursts into giggles. “I’m Jin! The owner of the blog! I’m also apparently an idiot.” Jin ducks his head into the camera, giving you an unattractive, sideways close up of his eyes and nose.

“Veryprofessional, Jin.” Jungkook grins teasingly.

Jin’s too-close head turns, presumably to glare at the focus of the video. “Yes, I am a professional thank you very much. Now take your shirt off, fatty.”

Jin walks to the side of the room again, giving you a nearly full view of Jungkook’s body. The young man blushes again, levity gone, and starts to unbutton his sleep shirt.

With each button undone, the fabric gratefully springs to the side. Soon the boy’s tan tummy lays bare, angry looking stretchmarks decorating the lower part of it.

Jungkook tosses his shirt off camera, breathing slowly and evenly. “Wh-what now?”

“Jiggle it.”

Jungkook’s breath hitched, eyes closing slightly. He brings both large hands to his jello like gut and proceeds to bounce it up and down. For a minute of two, he shakes it briefly, only to let go and wait for the jiggly mass to settle. He stares at the camera, as if he’s watching himself in the feedback footage.

One hand slides up to cup his soft chest, while the other slaps gently at his belly entranced by the bounce.

“Now, turn to your side.” Jin’s voice startles Jungkook out of his self exploration. Jin himself walks towards the now sideways Jungkook, pressing up against his back. Jin reaches his arms around Jungkook to lift the younger man’s pot belly. He squeezes, pinches and lets it drop to watch it wobble.

“Tsk tsk tsk…” He pokes a long finger into the pliant flesh. “Someone’s let himself go it seems…”

“Ah~! I- I have!” Jungkook moans. “I’m soooo lazy, and- and greedy.”

“Lazy is right you little piggy.” Jin pulls away from playing with the taller boy’s belly button, walking back off screen. “Why don’t we give our viewer’s a little show? See how out of shape you’ve really gotten?”

Jungkook can only nod, face a bright red.

“Gimme fifty jumping jacks.”

“Fifty?! Jin! That’s too many!” Jungkook gapes at the man off screen.

“You used to do sets of eighty not even a year ago, I’m sure your fat ass can manage one set of fifty.”

“I’ll try I guess…” Jungkook doesn’t look optimistic. He gets in position anyway and starts counting out loud.

“One, two, three, four, five, six…”

The up and down movement vigorously shakes his little jelly belly, truly revealing just how much fat had accumulated there.

“Fifteen, sixteen, seh-seventeen, eight -hah hah- eighteen…” The poor boy’s face was tomato red and shiny with sudden sweat. His arms keep perfect time, but his legs move less far apart with each jump.

“Nine-hah-teen, twenty!” Jungkook is huffing now, tiny breasts quaking each time he lands. He is so out of breath now that he only mutters what vaguely sounds like numbers with each jumping jack.

“Twenty one, twenty two, twenty three…” Jin picks up where the out of breath young man left off. “Come on tubby, you were doing this in your sleep six months ago! What happened?”

Jungkook is gasping now, arms waving less with each jump, feet not even moving apart. A drop of sweat hangs precariously off of a perky nipple, only to fall onto his gut not even a second later.

“Are you seriously this out of shape?” Jin sounds genuinely surprised now, instead of teasing. Jungkook plops onto the floor panting. His previously neat hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, neck and chest pink from effort. “Kookie, you only did 31 jumping jacks.”

“I- gasp- I can’t…” The chubby boy leans back against the bookshelf. “I’m too fat…”

“Oh no. I’ll be the one to tell you when you’re too fat. Right now?” Jin squats down and smacks Jungkook’s sweaty belly, eliciting a moan from the boy. “You’re barely overweight.”

“I’ll get bigger! I promise!” The younger man pleads, having seemingly forgotten about the fact that he’s being recorded.

“Bigger? Eating like you are now? I don’t think so. You’re going to have to pick up the pace if you want to be the fattest boy in the house. Even Hobi will get bigger than you at this rate.” Jin gave Jungkook’s red, sweaty paunch one last wobbling pat before standing back up again. Jungkook stays on the ground, not even bothering to hide the bulge in his pajama pants.

“Okay guys!” The older man addresses the camera, winking. “It looks like Jungkook can still do thirty one jumping jacks before he gives up. You could say his stamina isn’t what it used to be! I’m gonna get this little piggy back to bed now. I think the poor thing’ll need another nap after so much exercise. Thank you for watching!”

Jin leans forward

The screen goes black.

-

I went ahead and attached a video instead of just writing down the answer ^-^;

I hope you don’t mind using headphones, haha! It got a little steamy there for a second… I should really get a video editing program so I can cut out those bits of me turning the camera on and off. Maybe even use my phone next time or something.

Oh well, lessons for later.

I hope that answers your question, Anon!

[ktheist]

finale — show me yours & i’ll show you mine

➙ muses. seokjin x college student / gamer!reader ft. best friend! taehyung

➙ genre. best friend’s brother au. university au. working au. fwb au.

➙ word. 2.1k

➙ index. 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | finale | side story 1 |

➙ synopsis. 

“show me yours and i’ll show you mine.”

x

“be nice," taehyung mouths across from you as he sits next to mina.

the red handprints on his cheeks becoming more apparent with each passing minute. it was half-believable to say taehyung fell face first in the snow, got stuck there for more than two minutes and voila, sported a red face upon your return to the kim’s.

but now, you’re just lucky no one’s pointing out the very obvious palm shaped mark on his pudgy cheeks as he stuffs his face with food.

“oh, mina, do you have any plans tomorrow? you could stay over and spend christmas morning with us," mrs kim asks as she passes the bowl of the roasted potatoes seokjin’s been boasting about.

“o-oh,” the brunette stammers, holding the fork with both hands as if citing a prayer of hope, “no, i couldn’t intrude on you any longer.”

“no such thing, we’re all family here.” mrs kim waves a dismissive hand and even that brief gesture feels warm, “___’s mother and i have known your mother since we were kids and i watch you two grow up with my boys - you’re basically  daughters i never had,” she shoots you a smile, eyes crinkling in the corners.

not seeing the remark coming, you end up almost choking on the mushroom soup you’re just in the middle of enjoying.

“i can’t say i’d love to have tae as a sibling but here we are,” you jest, half-heartedly while laughter erupts from everyone at the table.

if there’s a god, please don’t let mrs kim find out i fucked her oldest son.

“i heard yuukal co is interested in your flower arrangements and wanna buy exclusive rights to have you deliver them to the company whenever they have an event lined up?” namjoon chirps up, dimples digging into his cheek as he digs into his 

“the secretary of yuukal co was an acquaintance of mine in college, that’s probably why.” the brunette says shyly, pushing her hair to the back of her ear.

“so, you’re not planning on going back to college?” 

but it’s your voice that makes her blink once and stare at you like you’re some tricky math question.

“what- oh,” she shakes her head, as if shaking away the trance that delayed her response, “i don’t know, my major has nothing to do with what i want to do so i’m thinking of taking another year off.”

you nod casually. understandingly. “i’m sure the college has plenty of spots for people who actually wants to be there, i guess.”

it’s not a new low. but it’s a kind of low you never usually stoop to.

no one seems to notice though, as mina laughs. obviously uncomfortable by your remark, “haha yeah.”

“taehyung got offered a job at the company he interned in last year,” with a smack on the aforementioned boy’s back, seokjin proudly announces.

and just like that, taehyung takes the spotlight to himself.

“oh my god, that’s wonderful news. kim taehyung, when were you going to tell us?” mrs. kim is the first to say something, eyes brimming with anticipation as she looks at him, waiting for him to tell everyone at the table more about it.

but the fact of the matter is, kim taehyung is torn between working a nine-to-five, subsequently making his parents proud or going professional as a full time gamer.

he breathes out an ‘uh...’ before his lips curl into a forced smile.

“surprise?”

x

some time after dinner, you end up drinking and playing card games. mrs kim already went to bed and it's a hour past midnight and all four of your find yourselves in your house to not disturb the kim couples.

the grinch is playing in the background because you, taehyung and mina won against namjoon and seokjin who wanted to watch frozen.

“frozen is so unchristmasy,” taehyung complained.

though, at one point, you did backtrack a little - only a teensy bit - and sided with seokjin who looked like he just won a lottery when you casually say, “i mean frozen’s got that wintry feeling and christmas is in-”

“oh girl, not you choosing a man over your best friend,” taehyung started tickling your sides as giggles erupted from your lips while trying to beg for forgiveness.

 “okay! okay! i’m grinch team all the way!”

“is that allowed? yah! you can’t say that after converting to team frozen!” seokjin’s rebuttal sounded every bit casual.

in retrospect, him joining taehyung’s ticklish assault would have felt out of character had you not fucked behind taehyung’s back nor kissed like you were star crossed lovers just hours ago.

“two against one! not fair! seokjin- ah- hahahaha!” 

one good thing came out of it though: you ended up sitting next to seokjin. it made you a little too conscious of him - of his cologne, of his thigh that brushes against yours with every movement you make and pretend like it’s nothing and of the ghost of a touch of his pinky finger that lingers on your knee when he seemingly places a hand on his own knee. 

still, it’s the closest you could ever be in public and it’s enough to tell mina to back off.

she doesn’t seem to notice but her compliments are equally distributed to everyone in the room. she seems to be the giggly drunk. giggling at every single thing everyone say.

somewhere deep in your heart, you feel the guilt gnawing because of your uncalled for hostility.

“i better get home,” she starts to stand at 3:07 am and you wave a dismissive hand, “no, it’s so late. stay over. please. you promised to make me your special hot chocolate in the morning.”

she objects at first like she turned down mrs kim’s invitation to spend christmas morning at the kim’s. and that’s how you know your views have been blinded with jealousy to see mina for who she is - a cute, lovable girl who’d be the heroine of every romance novel there is.

“oh thank you, thank you!” her arms flail around before they wrap around you in a drunken hug.

you laugh, hugging back.

x

the memories of how you huddled together like children and fell asleep in the living room, is hazy but when you wake up - the time on your screen displaying a 6 something am - you find a blanket draped over your body.

the light from the kitchen pours over the living room but not enough to wake the slumbering bodies there.

seokjin shoots you a smile when he sees you ambling over to the dining table with hair pointing in every direction, eyes squinting trying to block out the light while holding the blanket around your shoulders.

“you’re working? jinnie, it’s christmas,” you whine, head resting on his shoulder, feeling your heartbeat skip at the small contact.

he chuckles, bumping his cheek against your head before you hear the sound the keyboard again.

you stay like that, blanket curled around your body, seokjin typing away at his laptop.

that is, until his velvet voice cuts through the silence.

“so... i reckon that red handprint on tae’s cheek isn’t because he fell face first in snow.”

“it was because i slapped him in the face,” you wave your injured hand that’s now wrapped with a panda printed band aid instead of the duck ones seokjin used in the beginning.

he takes your hand, making sure not to apply too much pressure on the injury and kisses the top of your hand, “why would you do that?”

your cheeks warm at the gesture but you clear your throat, trying to play it cool, “because he told me we looked good together after all that shit he put us through.”

silence lulls in once again.

it feels like the longest you’ve ever gone with your heart palpitating inside your chest and unspoken words hovering over you but not quite reaching the who they’re supposed to reach.

“do we?” seokjin muses.

“do we... what?” you ask despite having an inkling of what he means.

“look good.” he turns to you, one arm on the table, thumb brushing against your pinky finger.

“i don’t know- we never even took selfies together.” you shrug.

“i think our selfies would look cute,” he pauses, naturally pouty lips curling into a smile, “so cute that the guys in your dm’s would be devastated to know that you’re dating me.”

“i can’t... do this,” the words slip out of your mouth like a waterfall like it’s bound to pour out of your heart through your mouth at some point, “because taehyung was... right. i don’t have a love language - even if i did, it’d be being jealous of every girl that talks to you. lashing out at those girls even though it’s completely understandable why they’d have heart eyes when they talk to you because you’re just that amazing... and... and... you like me? why?”

seokjin’s eyes look like someone personally plucked stars from the sky and trap them in those dark brown irises.

no- actually, he’s looking at you like you’re the star and he’s the moon that shines silver white rays just to have you notice him.

“who’s to say i don’t get jealous?” he cups your face, brows furrowing like you’re a math question without a solution and he’s going mad trying to figure you out, “i get so jealous at the thought of guys sliding into your dm’s, let alone make a pass on you but then i thought ‘if she’s not looking at me then i just have to try harder to make her notice me’ and i might or might not’ve reciprocated mina’s passes to make you jealous...”

you feel the corners of your lips tugging into a smile as you smack his chest lightly, “ass.”

that earns a chuckle from the man before he goes on, “but i’m not even sure what my love language is either, last i used it, i ended up getting dumped because apparently i’m too boring.”

“you’re not boring...” red flashes in your vision as you spit out the word, offended, “your dad jokes are bad but that’s what makes them so lovable. you’re so tall but you’re a literal walking teddy bear. you have biggest, kindest heart... and you’re so hung.”

something devious and prideful flashes across his eyes for the briefest moment before he asks ever so softly, “yeah?”

“yes.” you take his hands and grip them tightly, wishing the touch would convey your feelings.

“isn’t that kind of your love language?” his thumb feels callous against your skin as he rubs circles on the back of your hand. but that’s what makes this feels real - an affirmation that you’re not dreaming, “so... show me more... show yours and i’ll show you mine.”

you’d want to say you share a deep, passionate kiss to seal your promise for each other. but when you open your eyes - not knowing when you closed it - you’re staring at the white ceiling with neon starry stickers tacked up on it. 

and seokjin?

he’s nowhere to be found.

the morning air sends shivers down your spine as you pull your blanket over your head, trying to tune out taehyung’s voice.

but the universe seems set on kicking your sleepy ass of your bed when the door swings open with a bang! 

“get up! get up! it’s christmas!” the tall boy literally screams in your ears before hoisting you over his shoulder like a sack of potato and setting you down on the toilet in the bathroom with a “you better wash your face by the time i come back!”

you do as told.

eventually.

since the presents are all set under the christmas tree at the kim’s and you’re not looking to upload a christmas morning story in mismatched pj’s, you change into a cute totoro onesie.

mr and mrs kim got mina - she thanked you for letting her stay over last night even though you woke up to an empty house, she even has different clothes on than last night - new kits for the florist.

taehyung almost hugged you to death when he unwrapped his new ps5 that he’s been dying for.

namjoon got a new pair of gucci loafers from taehyung and booked an interrogation slot with their mother because-

“kim taehyung, where did you get all this money?”

you suspect he’s going to reveal his gaming channel to her where he got sponsors from to buy namjoon those loafers.

and seokjin gifted you with a heartshaped necklace as well as a new pc set for taehyung and a signed book of namjoon’s favorite writer that he’d been talking about for ages as well as an all expense paid trip for his parents to thailand.

“thanks for the necklace,” you lightly bump seokjin’s elbow as you come to stand next to him at the sink. he’s washing the mug he used for hot coffee.

he steals a glance at his family and mina in the living room. they’re laughing over taehyung having his head down, sitting on his calves like he’s asking for the forgiveness of a lifetime after confessing that he didn’t want to work a nine-to-five and wanted to go pro.

then his eyes find yours again. the glint in them makes your heart stop before he leans down, lips brushing yours ever so gently yet very seokjin-like.

you think your heart just burst as you freeze in your spot, staring up at the man with slightly parted lips and warm cheeks like a high school girl whose crush very obviously hinted he likes her back.

he raises a quizzical brow at your reaction before realization settles on his face and his lips curve into a smirk, “what? did you think last night was all a dream?”

x

taglist.  @aretha170 @scalubera @ambersaesthetics @heyjiminnie @hyuck-me @fanfuckingfic @fangurl-ontgeside @bri-mal @waves-and-woods @rjsmochii​ @kimmieloveswho​

[otterbagel]

The Offer- Daniel x Reader

Reader has been tutoring Emma, but has also gotten close to the household android, Daniel. On one of their last days, something unexpected occurs.

(Notes: ...hiiiiiii guys LOL. Been a long time since I wrote anything like this, so please forgive the weird ending. Wasn't 100% sure how to end it but I just wanted to get it done. Have some more stuff that should be published later that's written a little bit better, hopefully? Also if you follow me and don't like dbh or this kinda stuff anymore it's cool to unfollow, I'm not keeping track so don't worry about it lol.)

(BIGGER NOTE!: Consider this kind of an AU to "I Wouldn't"! Really want to write more about Daniel but I'm never really sure how to, haha.)

   Frustrated scribbling filled the air as Emma let out an annoyed groan. "I just can't get it," she whined. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong."

   You motioned your hand, grasping in the air for the pencil she was holding. "Here, here— let me see." She handed the pencil over, seemingly glad to hand over the responsibility for a moment. "Okay, so the problem here is that you're forgetting to flip the fraction afterwards. I sometimes…"

   Your statement fizzled out into a humored giggle as you noticed Daniel on the other side of the desk, watching you with a smile. His head was propped up on one of his arms as he watched silently.

   "...sometimes… I… uh—" you coughed away your embarrassment, tapping the pencil's lead onto the paper as you gathered your thoughts.

   Emma looked to Daniel. "Stop being so distracting! Gosh!" She complained, much to the humor of Daniel.

   "I didn't mean to," he qwelled, raising up his hands in defense. "My apologies."

   "Yeah, yeah. You better." Emma retorted before turning back to you. "You were saying?"

   You tried forcing the smile off your face, returning to the math. You quickly scribbled down the solution to the problem, giving a stutter-filled explanation. 

   Emma made a noise of realization. "Yeah, okay, I get it now!" With a sniff she snatched her headphones from the desk and jumped to her feet, making you flinch. "Alright, I'll let you know if I need anything."

   You shook your head at Daniel, who seemed amused. Typical Emma behavior.

   "She's always been like that," he whispered. "Very blunt."

   You laid your head down on your arms with a sigh. "Yeah, I can see it." 

   Emma was sitting on her bed, headphones blaring so loud you could nearly make out the lyrics in the song. She always listened to her music at that ear-splitting level; you were honestly a bit worried for her hearing.

   At the same time, it made Daniel feel more comfortable talking, which was a huge plus. You hadn't seen him make small talk to anybody else; it seemed he was only comfortable speaking up when it was just you and him. 

   He sat up, hands loosely interlocked as they rested on his legs. "How much longer will you be working here?" He questioned, shifting his gaze back to you with hesitance.

   You exhaled, eyes wandering around to the different items in Emma's room. "Uh… well, Emma's summer school is almost over, so she'll be pretty busy with her normal classes. I don't know if they will want me to come over for after school stuff or not."

   Daniel's LED blinked blue as he nodded. "Yeah… that's what I thought."

   You returned the nod through the now-heavy atmosphere.

   You had begun working here just four months ago, but it had felt like you had been here for much longer. Coming over here nearly every weekday would do that. 

   Daniel let out a small flurry of blinks as he appeared nervous. "If you… aren't… hired back," he asked cautiously. "...will… will we ever see you again?"

   A small scrap of used eraser was on the desk. You brushed it off as you looked away from Daniel. "I… I don't know, actually." You let out an anxious laugh, clasping your hands together. "I don't know how I—"

   There was a knock at the door.

   You flipped around in your chair, grasping the back support with one of your hands to hold you in place. Daniel quickly slid into a more formal position.

   John, Emma's father and your employer, poked his head into the room with a child-like grin. "Emma, Emma!"

   She didn't take notice, his voice undoubtedly inaudible through the music in her headphones.

   He pressed the door open a little more as he rested his arm on the doorknob, shaking his head before looking at you. "She can't hear me at all, can she?"

   You exhaled a laugh, looking to a silent Daniel as if an inside joke had occurred. "Guess not."

   John flicked on the lights, Emma quickly sliding the headphones down to free one of her ears. "Oh, hey dad! What is it?"

   Her father stifled a laugh, motioning her to join him. "I have a surprise. Thought you'd be excited to see it." He looked to you. "You'd probably like to see too."

   Aa Emma and John left the room, you stood up slowly, filled with confusion and tension. "Do you know what it is?" You asked in a near inaudible whisper.

   Daniel matched your movements, albeit with much more precision. He shook his head, mouthing the word no.

   You exited the room with Daniel in tow before stopping abruptly, causing Daniel to lightly bump into you unexpectedly.

   There was another android in the living room.

   She was standing very still, as if she were brand new and without any prior experience in being activated.

   John smiled as he turned a page in a small instruction booklet he was holding. "Surprise! New android!"

   With a heavy swallow you took slow steps towards the others, before turning to Daniel behind you.

   His mouth was agape as his eyes scanned over the new android. More concerningly, his LED was red.

   Emma crossed her arms, looking with a scowl from the new android to Daniel. "But what's gonna happen to Daniel?"

   John, for the first time since this whole debacle started, appeared conflicted. "He's pretty outdated, but he might sell for something," he pondered. "If nothing else we could always put him in storage."

   "W-what?"

   All eyes went to Daniel, who was clearly panicking. His eyes were wide, his professional stance broken in favor of a more natural and fearful one.

   John's eyebrows furrowed, the paper book making a small cracking noise as it bent in his hands. 

   You licked your lips before stepping in the line of sight between the two men. "I'll buy him," you muttered. "I have six hundred right now, I'll give you more later if I need to."

   Luckily, John had stopped paying attention to the panicked android behind you and had been taken aback by your sudden offer. "Six hundred? Really?" He looked astonished. "I mean… that's a lot for such an old android. I'm sure you could get a newer PL600 for about—"

   "Nope!" You shook your head, pointing over your shoulder with your thumb. "I want this one. It's already set up and everything."

   "Oh… okay…" John shrugged.

…

   You had kept a close eye on Daniel's LED on the way home. It had slowly calmed down to blue with the occasional flash of yellow, no doubt spurred by intrusive thoughts. 

   You licked your lips, trying to keep your voice soft. "Hey… you okay?"

   He looked to you briefly before he started wandering his vision once more. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine."

   You nodded, unsure how to address the situation. At least you were almost home.

   "It was just so sudden…" he muttered. "...I wasn't broken, or damaged, or anything... at least I don't think I am..."

   "No, no—" you shook your head. "—they just want the exciting new thing. There's nothing wrong with you. At all."

   "How can you be sure of that?" He responded with a bit more force in his voice.

   You stuck one of your hands in your pocket. "Well, I know you, Daniel. And that's what makes you better than any other android out there." You went to poke his cheek before he jerked away with a flurry of laughs.

   "Oh— stop it," he reprimanded, turning his face away from you in a failed attempt to hide a smile. 

[clubyukhei]

wayv react series: tiktok couple pranks

ten, sicheng, yukhei, dejun, kunhang, yangyang

genre: suggestive fluff

a/n: this has 1.4k words which is... way longer than planned :’) i had a bit too much fun writing this lol. enjoy

[to:🐻] [sent: 9:30PM]

you might think i'm crazy

the way i've been cravin

if i put it quite plainly

just gimme them babies

“you okay, kun-ge?” 

“i am. why would i not be?” 

“you look… tense.”

“i’m fine, sicheng.”

the exchange makes you bite the inside of your cheek. you bite down on it hard and will yourself not to smile — but it’s so hard not to. especially when you catch the look of mild annoyance on your boyfriend’s face. the way he’s trying so hard to play it cool. 

so you glue your eyes to your phone and scroll through your inbox, pretending to be occupied. pretending you have no idea what’s going on. 

“oh. okay.” sicheng replies meekly, moving to the kitchen where kunhang and ten were opening a few tubs of ice cream.

to no one’s surprise, the conversation ends there. nobody ever questions kun after they hear that tone of authority in his voice — but maybe, you’ll be the first to. 

the night started out like any other movie night at the members’ dorms. as per usual, dinner was settled over multiple deliveries from their go-to food spots. but everything changed after yangyang left the dining table as soon as he was done eating.

“yangyang.” kun called out with a rather strict tone, his voice echoing throughout the apartment. 

“yeah?” the youngest member yelled from his room.

“come here.” 

you weren’t new to the responsible and occasionally hard-headed side of your boyfriend. it was pretty normal for you to see him nag at the members for being untidy at home and occasionally, for not behaving professionally when they were outside. 

after all, he was the leader of six boys who stressed him out on a regular basis — one of whom was the same age as him, yet regularly participated in the mischief with the others.

but this time was different. you never heard him speak like that before, never even seen the look of seriousness on his face that was intimidating even to you, an innocent bystander witnessing all of this. 

you didn’t want to admit it at first, but his voice, which was stern and commanding and had the youngest member scattering back into the kitchen in seconds, turned you on like no other.

everyone else minded their own business as kun eyed the spot on the dining table that had been covered in tiny puddles of soup. not a single word was uttered but yangyang, whose eyes kept flickering between the mess he had created and the leader’s jaded gaze, quickly grabbed a wet cloth from the sink and got to cleaning. 

you were parched just watching the scene unfold. you and kun had only started dating a few months ago and you were still learning new things about him, but this was truly something else. a pleasant surprise, if you could call it that.

kun has always been a sweet and reliable man in your eyes, and still is. but you’ve never pushed his buttons or experienced the side of him you saw this evening. the side where he uses that tone. preferably when the two of you are alone, when every word that leaves his lips is heavy with authority and dominance that you find yourself listen to every instruction he gives you, like getting on your knees—

“_____?”

you look up from your phone to see ten staring back at you from the kitchen counter, waiting for an answer. shit. you definitely did not catch what he asked. out of all times to fantasise about your boyfriend… 

dejun, who’s sitting on the floor in front of you and searching for a movie on netflix, turns around. “he asked if you wanted mint chocolate or strawberry.”

“mint chocolate is absolutely disgusting.” yukhei comments, accentuating the last word with abhorrence. the tall boy plops onto the ground next to dejun with a small bowl of strawberry ice cream in one hand.

“oh.” you hum. “strawberry it is. thanks, ten.”

your phone vibrates the second you finish your sentence, frightening you just a bit. when you see the latest notification on your lock screen, a familiar rush of excitement washes over you again. 

[from:🐻] [sent: 9:50PM]

😡

you chuckle to yourself quietly at his reply before taking in the look on his face. his hair, dyed light brown just a few days ago, falls over his forehead and almost hides his eyes — but you don’t miss the way he’s staring at you with an eyebrow raised confidently, as if daring you to continue whatever you were doing.

it’s too much. you find your cheeks flushing a little and you quickly look back to your phone, rereading your conversation with him.

[to:🐻] [sent: 9:30PM]

you might think i'm crazy

the way i've been cravin

if i put it quite plainly

just gimme them babies

[from:🐻] [sent: 9:33PM]

?

[to:🐻] [sent: 9:35PM]

baby you might need a seatbelt when i ride it

i’ma leave it open like a door

come inside it 

even though I'm wifey, you can hit it like a side chick

😙

can you stay up all night? 

fuck me till the daylight 

34+35

[from:🐻] [sent: 9:45PM]

?!?!?!?!?!

[to:🐻] [sent: 9:49PM]

means i wanna 69 with you 🙄

“what are you smiling at, _____? is it those tiktok pranks again? i was telling yangyang the other day that we should handle our tiktok page ourselves. i mean manager hyungs will never allow that of course, but right now we’re not even doing the cool stuff…” 

as yukhei blabbers on, you watch your boyfriend get up from the armchair he had been curled up on and make his way to his room. that’s your cue to leave. 

“make way for the ice cream truck!” kunhang sings as he carefully sets a tray of small bowls, all filled with scoops of green and pink coloured ice cream, onto the coffee table.

“actually yukhei, you can have my ice cream.” you say, getting on your feet.

“really? thanks!” yukhei smiles as kunhang lets out a loud “huh”. 

“wait, are you guys not joining us anymore? we’re watching harry potter tonight!” dejun yells. 

“again?” ten sighs. as you walk down the hallway, you hear him whine about something along the lines of watching another movie for once. 

your hand reaches for the handle of the door to kun’s bedroom, but it swings open and an equally shocked yangyang rushes out as if he wasn’t supposed to be there — even though it was his bedroom too.

you step into the quiet room, shutting the door behind you before turning around to the sight of kun sitting on the edge of his bed relaxedly, his palms flat against the mattress and his legs spread a bit further than usual. there’s that look on his face again.

“hey.” you say softly, not sure how to read him. 

“really?” kun lets out a tiny chuckle. 

“what?”

“don’t act all innocent now.” he whines. “you were asking me to hit it like a side chick, baby. and 34 35, whatever that means.”

you burst into laughter. “it means we should 69. or do i have to explain what that means as well?” 

“god.”

“i’ll let you do anything to me. and i’ll do anything for you.” 

kun groans, running a hand through his hair. that image alone makes you want to rip the white t-shirt off him and to pounce onto him. 

there are a lot of filthy things you want him to do to you. for now, you’ll have to settle for less.

“this is a really sudden, baby. but i’m not complaining.” 

the grin on your face softens into a smirk as you saunter over to him, casually lowering your knees by his sides and planting yourself in his lap. someday he’ll find out what sparked all of this, but not today.

“i said a lot of things, you know. where should we start?” 

he stares back at you incredulously — and yet, his hands are kneading the inside of your thighs. just as he’s about to reply, a bunch of knocks on the door steals both of your attention.

“are y’all joining us or not?” 

it’s ten, who already sounds tired from being surrounded by his younger brothers. 

“we’ll join you guys a bit! go ahead and start without us.” kun shouts.

you turn back to smile at him suggestively, resting your arms on his shoulders and gently massaging the nape of his neck. when he plants wet kisses along your collarbones and up to your jaw, you sigh in satisfaction.

“let’s start by locking the door.”

[animeyanderelover]

May I please have prompt 127 with Grell? Hope that's ok?! Thank you for always answering my requests!

That prompt honestly just suits her so well, I can’t😂.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, clinginess, obsessiveness, kidnapping, blood

Prompt 127: “I would bleed out if you tell me you like the color red.”

"Why exactly do I have to clean always the mess up you make during such missions? How did this even happen?!" Your voice sounded more shrill than usual, slight panic visible in your voice whilst trying to patch up the wound on Grell's shoulder, besmirching yourself with her blood in the process. You were no professional in this, having not the knowledge or experience how to properly sew a wound and you knew that Grell had a higher endurance, meaning she wouldn't die on blood loss. But you had wanted to help nevertheless, having panicked slightly when she had limped through the door, blood smearing her clothes and leaving a path behind you would have to clean later on if you didn't want the whole house to reek of blood.

"It was nothing too much to worry about darling. I just got in a little fight with someone and I let my guard down for a second." You raised your eyebrow slightly. "And with whom exactly did you get into a fight? A human can't have caused this damage on a grim reaper. So that must mean that you fought against another supernatural creature. Question now is which one. Do you want to tell me the reason why as well?"

A grim look crossed Grell's face for a moment, looking upset when recalling the incident that had caused her all the blood loss. "Well?", you asked, giving her a prompting look to encourage her before going back to observing her wound, trying to figure out how you were supposed to patch the wound after having somewhat cleaned it up. "You know, I can deduce this a bit judging from this wound. Were you attacked from a grim reaper's death scythe or something like this?"

"He started it!", Grell quickly defended herself, jerking a bit up in the process and making you nearly hit her in the wrong spot. "Hey! Sit still or else I'll end up sewing the wrong place. I already have troubles finding out how to even patch this!", you snapped, leading her to quickly sitting back in her earlier position.

"Did you get in troubles with William?", you continued questioning her, doing in your head a small simultation on how you would do any moment now finally mend that bleeding deep cut of hers. "No, I didn't! I said that he was the one who started it. He got punished instead of me and was raken his death scythe." You gave her a surprised look, blinking shocked. "...Wait, so this time you really were innocent?!"

"Of course I was! Why do you sound so surprised?", Grell complained, pouting slightly hurt. "Well...How do I say this?", you started, searching for the right words to explain it to her without ending up insulting her. "You're a bit more...quick-tempered and spirited?, you suggested, feeling like those words would come over as more positive.

"So I could have died back then on blood loss and you would have thought it was my fault for even doing so, am I right?", Grell started, sounding suddenly all too dramatic. "I am just being misunderstood in here. I really didn't do this time anything wrong. All I did was trying to talk with him before he suddenly started throwing his death scythe after me. It seems like he had a bad day and wanted me to shut up when all I did was trying to have a polite conversation with him. My feelings were hurt and at the very least you could be a bit more friendly because I might die here."

"Oh, come one! You won't die on this. The worst that might happen is you feeling dizzy and somewhat hazy due to all the blood that you have already lost! But that's all! Don't be such a drama queen! I'll fix you up! I'll try at least...Do you think that you can tolerate the pain?" It was kind of an unnecessary question, she had told you stories where she had been thrown through walls and hadn't looked affected so this was a ridiculous question which you noticed by the 'why are you even asking' look in her eyes. "Forget it. That was a stupid question. Still, sit still or else I'll end up piercing that thing by accident somewhere where we don't want to have it."

Your hands were slightly shaking, you were after all pretty nervous since you had never done it before. But it was either you finally closing the cut or accepting having her bleeding for a whole lot longer until her body would heal itself which you didn't want to wait for because it would only dirty the house even more than already. She would definitely help you later on scrubbing all the blood from the floor.

"You look sexy whilst being so concentrated.", you heard her chirping, her body moving a bit in the process which made you barely prevent yourself from ramming the needle with the threat in your own hand. "Grell?", you asked after calming down from the small shock. "Yes?", she replied. "Shut up whilst I'm flicking you together. I have to concentrate and your job is to sit still. No moving, no speaking, preferably no breathing. Just be like a stone. Do nothing."

"You want me to stop breathing? So mean.", she whined out, but after seeing the look with the silent message 'just do it', she let out a small huff before sucking in one last gasp of her and then completely stopping to move. "See? You can do it ans it isn't like you will die instantly. Let me just hurry up a bit."

You hadn't even gloves on, making all of this a bit gross since your hands were already stained with Grell's blood and the smell and close sight of it wasn't very great to look at either, but you had never been someone who was shaken up easily and life with the grim reaper had definitely hardened you up a lot.

For the biggest part you managed to not show your nervousness, though the slight trembling of your hands and your bloody and sweaty palms might have given it away that you had no idea what you were doing, the only knowledge you did possess was having read books about how to do it and having watched someone doing it once before, though it hadn't been on a human. But it was better than walking in on this completely blindly and whilst it ended up being a bit inexpertly, you still felt proud because for a starter it was still pretty good, but that was of course only your opinion.

You let out a small sigh, wanting to wipe your forehead before stopping abruptly, remembering just what exactly you had sticking on your whole body. You would have to take a thoroughly shower afterwards.

"Can I breathe again?", you suddenly heard Grell asking with a pressed voice, reminding you that she had hold her breath for the last four minutes, probably even longer. Respect, you didn't know if you could do that in such a situation. "Oh yes. Feel free to do what you want."

She gasped loudly, grabbing your shoulders in the process and just breathing a few times deeply in and out before straightening up and bending her head in an attempt to take a look at the freshly stitched wound. "Does it look daft?", she asked you.

"What the...? Grell, it isn't supposed to look like a work of art, not when I did it. It's just to stop the bleeding.", you quickly scolded her, tidying up all the tools and the many soaked towels and tissues you had used to clean all the blood from her wound. "And I'm sure you wouldn't want that to happen, right? Bleeding out in this house. But it seems like in the end everything went fine, the blood loss doesn't seem to have had an affect on you.", you added, feeling actually a bit relieved that she hadn't experienced any sort of dizzyness or shock from all of this.

You glaned with a heavy sigh down on yourself, examining just how terrible you really looked, blood smeared all over your face, your arms, clothes and even the tip of your hairs hadn't been spared. Someone would need to spend the next few hours in the bathroom to scrub and clean themselves thoroughly and severly up, you didn't plan on reeking like a wandering bloob bag.

"I look pretty bad.", you mumbled out, shaking your hands a bit in hopes of getting some of the still liquid blood off, though you knew you should hurry before it would start to dry. "I think you look gorgeous, covered in all my blood like this. Red suits you."

You stiffened up when hearing her saying this, although you weren't surprised hearing something like this coming from her. "Do you have to say this after I just patched you up? It makes it sound like you would have actually wanted to continuously lose blood just so I could be covered in your blood. And you wouldn't do that...right?" Why had you to ask this? She would surely not be that risky with her love for you, would she?

Grell put her fingertips on her chest, with the other gesturing at you. (y/n), I would bleed out if you tell me you like the color red."

...You shouldn't have asked this. For a few seconds you were quiet, thinking about how to give an answer to that question before just humming, deciding to leave this without any comment that could lead to her saying more stuff like this. You were for a short moment thinking if she had perhaps after all gotten a bit confused after losing that much of her blood, but with her it was hard to tell. You were sure she would be fine either way, making up your mind to just finally take a bath with a lot of soap.

"Are you taking a bath now?", Grell queried when seeing you walking towards the bathroom. "Obviously.", you replied, slowly gesturing at your currently eerie-looking figure, dry and still fresh blood mixing everywhere on your body. You were sure if you would walk like this at night through the forest and would cross paths with someone, they would run away crying and screaming. You looked like you had just murdered someone.

"Great! Can I come with you?"

"...Let me think. No."

"Why not? I could help you with cleaning you up from all the blood."

"I surely won't let you see me naked Grell! And you need to go easy on yourself now, especially with that freshly sewed shoulder of yours!"

"...I can use my other arm to scrub you up."

"Grell! No means no!"

"Fine then. I just wanted to help you. You could sometimes be a bit more polite with me."

"I politely decline.", you told her before finally disappearing, locking out of caution the door. You didn't know how effective a 'no' would be with her. You knew her overzealousness too well.