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kalims · 8 months ago

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⭒ㅤwith a disney princess

premise. surely there's been a mistake, cause there's no way someone out of place like you ended up at nrc, right? (spoiler alert: months later and they will fight whoever might drag you to rsa)

featuring. dorm leaders (from diasomnia to heartslabyul)

content. at best this might imply a female reader, given they're based of a 'princess' but I tried to take the gender vague and focused mainly on the qualities of them! mc has hair in the rapunzel part lol

note. no beta we die lol. I worked on this by group so i honestly don't remember if I accidentally gendered mc. I absolutely love idias part lmaoooo

malleus (aurora)

ooh intimidating x soft couple.

you look way out of place in somewhere like nrc of all places, given your mother is the infamous sleeping beauty (infamous, in the college’s standards that is.) your kindness is easily taken advantage of, even if you do realize it there is always forgiveness spared for the undeserving.

said kindness was extended to the quiet malleus.

surprise no surprise. he’s impeccably drawn to the sparkling aura you seem to exclude. malleus feels as though there are traces of familiar magic always hovering around you, like its embowed into your very being. a blessing would be a better word for it.

well, he’s just curious but if he were to ever ask he’d be met with the confirmation that you were, indeed blessed by the same three fairies your mother was blessed by (minus the curse… ironically he’s quite similar to the same lady that your mother loved and looked up to.)

he’s just fascinated. something as glittery as you, shiny like gold would’ve been whisked away to his nice tower, homey. he’d tell you. almost as if making its image seem heavenly. (lowkey highkey getting your consent for kidnapping)

animals always seem to flock around you everywhere you go, they sneak around to reach you. in your dorm, during lunch, even in class. there’s either a bird on your shoulder or a squirrel making itself comfortable atop your head. its a curious sight, critters don’t really like him much.

in short they run away, humans or animals alike are both afraid of his presence it seems.

so he’s incredibly still when you nudge an adorably round bird in his palm, peering at it with cautious eyes. tense as a statue lest it flies away.

cue staring contest.

he felt incredibly accomplished that day, and immersed him in the role of making this creature like him. leaving seeds, offering it the most sought off food from the valley, literally conjuring a small home for it. everything.

HE’S SO HAPPY.

malleus often asks of you to sing, perhaps its the blessing talking but its the most unique form of sound he’d ever heard in his life, the more he sings the more he wants to imbue his very being with the loveliness of your song.

always following you around like a lost puppy (lizard?) any evil that actually wants to take advantage of your unfortunate naive desire for peace and kindness is scared away. although malleus would never want your interactions to be reduced entirely because of him, he only starts looking like a demon one he figures out their motive is less than fitting for you.

“yeah, the ingredients were to complicated for me to remember—”

“oh! perhaps i can help you?”

spots the demon behind you (just your lovely giant staring them to their grave.)

“you know what i actually got it— sorry for wasting your time.” you watch them, confused as they dip.

you look to him, as though to ask what just happened but he merely casts you an oblivious glance and shrugs.

favorite past time → coddling you in his dragon form.

he was doubtful whether he should pull through in actually showing it to you, since you were already such an angel towards him. would it be a stretch if he let a selfish desire get in the way? perhaps you’d get scared if you see how large he is there—or if he’s—

idia (rapunzel)

okay that amazed smile on you was totally worth it.

wow your hair is fire.

he should have never made a comment about it in the first place because now you’re completely confused about his reference, were you living in like… in isolation? a cave? you’re a little less worse than the scarabia’s dorm leader when it comes to being oblivious.

just two idiots miscommunicating, he atleast is trying to make an effort to explain that he doesn’t mean it literally but his wording is so bad that you get absolutely nothing from what he is trying to infer.

okay your hair though.

“why is that person stuck in that square!?”

good thing ortho was near cause you almost charged towards a television and judging by the, pan!? in your grip you definitely would have smashed the screen trying to be righteous and rescue the character.

okay then. 1. don’t let you near electronics, specifically when its playing something.

you are a literal danger to his society. shivers

you’re always asking something like “what are those glowing balls on the ceiling?” those are lights… “why is that thing speaking?!” that’s a speaker… “why is it on fire?” oh that’s his hair, he doesn’t really know either it was just like that.

it does feel a little nice to get asked like that and he’d know the answer (its literally the most common knowledge ever but whtv)

EPIC! idia is now trying to figure out how resistant your hair is. its literally like, the most OP shield there is!

at first he had some reservations. like, used a knife once and was flabbergasted when it came back in half. your hair didn’t even move an inch. then he got motivated and tried a sharper sword, longer, and larger of course. he let ortho handle it cause he probably would have stabbed himself.

“wtf.”

flinches cause the half of the sharp end came completely off and stabbed right beside his head onto the wall.

what are the limits of it?! had some doubts before using one of the tech he came up with, it could literally cut through a diamond and he isn’t sure if its entirely safe but you’re all for it cause you were always curious whether your hair could even get cut in the first place.

anyway you’re way too happy to be near a lazer that could obliterate you and its kinda infecting him. yikes.

less than happy cause the lazer literally got reflected by your hair and hit itself so it’s just gone.

on the bright side he can use you as a scapegoat (in a good way)

alright. 2. don’t enrage you unless he wants to experience getting hit by a pan really hard.

wow. he felt that for days.

maybe its the hit or he’s just feeling a little woozy whenever you’re around.

definitely the pan.

vil (mulan)

bold x shy couple

pretty x pretty defender

he’s used to people heeding his suggestions but damn, are you a stubborn one.

not only have you not listened to his propositions for becoming a more refined person (cause the way you held yourself was too.. much for him to ignore, and it bothered him for a long time until he decided to help you.) but he can respect you, he supposes. not a lot of people can stay true to themselves.

it seems like epel, the boy himself has taking a liking to you. no wonder he’s been becoming more rebellious lately.

vil would never stoop so low to purposely direct someone advice that would change their entire self, decimate their unique traits. but all he told you was out of the goodness of his heart, if you’d be less clumsy of your ways your reputation would be better for the long run.

not being respected amongst nrc is never a good thing.

still, you’re still headstrong. never too overconfident, nor cocky. just a humble soul, that’s rare so he tends to stick by you if he ever wanted an honest opinion cause people just tell him what he wants to nowadays. vil never enjoyed the biased remarks.

more often than not he enjoys making your already pretty face, prettier than it is.

finds out you’re no bark and all bite, he never even knew you could take down someone who has an advantage over you in physical terms. come on, its savanaclaw. apparently the guy had spared him an unsavory comment and (apparently, in your defense. only told him a few words, got attacked so it was self defense.)

it came a surprise to him. seeing as you’re generally relaxed in nature, your military prowess a mystery to most since you seemed content with resorting matters with peace. though you seem to lack more restraint when it comes to your close relationships.

vil scolding you in the infirmary (you don’t have a scratch, and the guy whose pride you handed back to is in some corner lamenting cause he can hear you guys.) and you just taking it.

contrary to how you first treated to each other. you seem to be more prone to his opinions, or suggestions the more you progress with each other. he admits maybe he was too outright in his manner of speaking the first time, but it only highlights the change you’d gone through with each other.

you’re the perfect doll, in a way. not in a demeaning way or anything but its so satisfying to him to use products on your face just for the sole reason that you sit so still. his absolute favorite past time is skin care together even if you mostly just follow his lead.

you and epel must be kindred spirits, once he was on his way to retire to the indoors of pomefiore. seeing as it started raining, heavy so it meant it would stay for a while. and then paused when he spotted you both sharing words.

and planting apple seeds in the rain? both of you are stained with the rain, some dirt and mud alike. and vil had never looked so mortified. so just cause you don’t protest when he cares for you doesn’t mean you’re bothered by getting dirty he guesses.

“you both… clean yourselves up, i’ll brew medicine lest you fall under the weather.” ← disappointed sigh.

kalim (jasmine)

ended up waiting for you both to finish under the covers and ushered you both to baths.

you have a tiger!

just living char x their absolute biggest stan

wow you have a tiger.

did he mention you have a tiger?

majority of nrc knows not to mess with you haha, if it’s not obvious already with the seemingly lax tiger that behaves like some sort of overgrown cat following you around and growls at someone when you aren’t looking.

then you always raise a brow at the people who tell you otherwise. “bab doesn’t bite.”

kalim is lowkey highkey their biggest fan, i mean. jamil is having the worst year of his life dragging kalim away wherever you seem to be because the first apparent instinct of the boy is to try to pet the tiger cause it’s ‘cute’.

at some point jamil had to investigate your routine throughout the day, what you do, where you go at specific times like after classes conclude to make sure kalim doesn’t cross path with you.

well, not necessarily you but rather your… tiger. which is hard, honestly. you seem to visit scarabia a lot for a reason unknown. jamil would be suspicious you’d be planning something but all you really do is stay out on the balcony with your companion.

but alas, fate would have it otherwise.

“hi,” kalim blurts before he could remember his friend’s warning. you turn, along with your… also friend who watches him closely. you blurt out a greeting back, seeing as it’s courtesy, you seem to be amused at his fascinated eyes staring at your tiger.

“want a pet?” you offer, bab making sounds of protest.

jamil almost had a heart attack seeing the two of you attached by the hip, only calming down a few weeks later. seeing as your companion wouldn’t pose as much danger as he assumed, seeing as the tiger’s protectiveness started extending to the ray of sunshine.

rich couple ig. everyone overhears your conversations and doubles over. “i had a small statue of gold made for bab, for you.” and then a; “oh, thanks. but we already have a lot at home. hmm…”

actually it’s not really the manner of being attached, more like two following you. kalim, and then your cutie pie tiger.

your reserved nature in particular greatly contrasts kalim, yapper x listener i guess. although the object of his interest was initially because of bab, he might as well be another overgrown cat of yours cause he seems to love touch.

its concerning cause bab themselves felt challenged for your affection and when they spotted kalim’s head nestled on your lap they ‘accidentally’ kick him off.

in a way you seemed untouchable, pet included. you don’t seem to mind kalim much, people might even go as far as to say you enjoy his company. occasionally the vice of his dorm as well, the three of you have this sort of aura that screams ‘don’t approach’

said aura is in the form of a very big cat.

azul (ariel)

one time you admitted to having not much friends and three heads turned towards you. face twisted incredulously.

he doesn’t know why but you looked like you went through ten stages of grief (3 more cause the 7 definitely wasn’t enough.) when you took a glance at him, during the time you were looking around, you almost went past him, actually. but then doubled back immediately.

that’s concerning.

morally suspicious (devil in disguise) x angel

azul often asks your opinions out of habit, he himself isn’t even sure when it started but he considers you a factor in decisions. though he does prefer to keep you out certain… endeavors of his away entirely, no need to concern your innocence in his doings.

as such he often uses the twins to steer you away from trouble cause you seem to have no sense for it whatsoever, whenever there’s a fight brewing instead of walking off you stride closer. curious to whatever was happening.

and, you believe too easily apparently.

jade had held you by your shoulders and directed you away from the fight before the dispute reached you and inevitably dragged you in. “why are they fighting?”

he replied. “ah, well. they inhaled an unpleasant shroom and got affected.” your mortified face spoke you believed him. human culture! you thought.

your brain should be inspected honestly. floyd told him all about the pile of stuff you had “found” in your dorm, ranging from innocent collectibles to items that brought the question of whether or not they were really yours but you didn’t really claim otherwise, just that you found em’ so no more questioning.

azul doesn’t even wanna know why you started staring at mushrooms like they were a mortal enemy of all living forms. speaking of, the three of them didn’t even consider that you could be from the sea as well. seeing as, well. you have two feet, even if they have the same.

besides the fact you’re too clumsy for your own good you sure had no fear when you leapt overboard during a field trip cause a trinket that caught your eye fell and gave the entirety of the attendants a heart attack. floyd had patted him on the back and wishes him condolences.

also the shock of the century when you emerged, pretty tail and all. holding it the trinket up like you just found it the most fascinating thing on the globe.

since then underwater dates were a thing. which took a lot of prompting honestly, you didn’t know he was a merman either, curiously asking him what kind he was. in nature, you were persistent. like a need to sate your questions so he eventually relented.

even then, it took a while before he let you see the form. ← to his fluster you seemed engrossed in this form of his. swimming around him and asking questions.

now azul also have a small pile of items hidden in a box beneath his bed, all from you. which, upon being opened would be mistaken for unused items since its literally random stuff, and a concerning favor towards forks.

oh yeah. sometimes the tweels crash your date.

you could be in his office, going about your business. chilling on his couch and playing with one of your treasures and be completely unaware of the ominous discussion ongoing within the three about anemones? contracts?

“what are you guys talking about?”

“hairstyles for azul.”

“what—”

“ooh. i can brush his hair so you can style it!” pulls out a fork.

leona (belle)

“oh my sevens, WAIT—”

i was having a crisis trying to think of a dynamic so why not just, beauty x beast.

leona is less than pleased to admit he doesn’t like you much. or atleast, he used to. it was clear his feelings of you was reciprocated, based on the uninterested side glances you cast him. your type, well liked, pristine, proper, and informed reminds him all to well of what mold he was forced into. though it never really fit.

you on the other hand, just dislike him in general. more pointedly as to how he acted, too self righteous in your opinion. he sure spends a lot of time moping about how he could have been king when he’s acting like he’d be a terrible one. you’d say it to his face but even you aren’t too crude.

if you’re both looking at the bright side though, you’d probably prefer each other’s company above others. you’re quiet, perfect for napping around. he’s surprisingly true to himself, his morals aren’t too bad either.

as such, to your disdain he now naps in the library. which you had titled your own space, but he didn’t really just care.

relatively you’re a lot more cool headed than he is, you told him concerns about his laziness which he weaved through. after opening up with each other… well you know how it goes.

okay, fine. you no longer berate leona for napping at the public space, quickly shut up when he threatened you. “i’m gonna tell you the real reason ‘m here nowadays if you don’t calm down. and it ain’t the peace i’m here for.” he eyes you, and you shut up after that.

leona doesn’t know if he should be amused or annoyed at the fact that you stand up to whatever he says. ‘that’s rude,’ this. ‘are you out of your mind?’ that. at some point where he doesn’t wanna admit, leona had disliked seeing you upset (particularly towards him) that he started listening.

at others is a different story though. he will gladly watch you shut down someone else.

sometimes he makes weird remarks, like. “throw an egg at them, who knows might hatch into a chick and give them the company they’ve been lacking.” ← just bullies random people while you defend them. “what? don’t be stupid, eggs that are sold don’t hatch into chicks.”

you often lament in his arms, regretting ever coming near his sleeping frame cause next thing you know you’re subjected to prison, and you had accidentally dropped the book you were reading so even if you try to reach for it he’s pulling you back.

will reach for it if you ask tho lol.

just one look from you has him suddenly behaved tbh.

bothers your productive time by crashing it with his opposite word of productive idk im to lazy to check. more often than not tramples over your things, but always looks dead to life when you end up scolding him heavily.

also kicks out the animals that gravitate towards you for some reason, got jealous of a bird nestled in your hair once cause apparently you paid too much attention to it.

apparently told ruggie to fetch books for you when you’re running out, at that point you might actually milk the nrc library with how fast you burn through them.

“you’re not even from here, what do—”

“actually. originally from times before, they—”

riddle (cinderella)

got lectured about history, eugh.

easy to fluster x enthusiastic and sweet

how are you so nice.

you’ve got most of the population of nrc enamored with your natural charm alone, though some do tend to mock you. unfortunately they aren’t wrong, you really do fit in more at a different school like rsa with your personality.

i mean you fit the bill, kind, pretty, talks to animals.

good for you though. cause riddle would prefer a behaved student than a troublesome one anyway so he would definitely dig you lmao.

speaking of. he definitely goes to you whenever the hedgehogs are lost in the maze, or the flamingos just don't wanna step out the farther spot from the pond, somehow they love you in whatever you do.

as in, you spoke to the hedgehogs with a lower tone. almost like a coo, and he almost tells you to stop because that's the universal worse tone to talk to hedgehogs until... it nuzzles into you?!

flabbergasted, he can only watch.

sevens... you're just so pleasant to be around he could die.

at some point it felt like you were the epitome of being kind. riddle understand that the virtue was just embedded into you, letting others berate you for whatever... he even thought you were too kind for a place like nrc where the complete opposite traits are admired.

you are, but only to those who deserve it. riddle had the pleasure to spot you nitpicking a crude student and they looked like they were gonna burst into tears.

so... you knew what to say almost always. when troubled, he'd learn that it's best to talk to you cause you'd know what to say to ease his worries, when you're treated wrongly? sevens.. you also know what to say.

but, in a putting whoever in their place way?

(idk man I'm just rambling at this point lmao idk how to write a cinderella reader.)

riddle has grown accustomed to random critters breaking in the door. well, he was used to animals in the first place. or atleast thought he was when he opened a door in the dorm and almost yelled at the sight of a group of mice looking like they were having conspiracies.

a few weeks after that he knocked on doors before opening them.

was also very disturbed when you announced they were your friends.

I don't know. I feel like he'd lowkey be the type to write your name in a heart on the back of his notebook and straighten his face like: 'what in the world am I doing' but not erasing it anyways.

over time, your little 'friends' got used to him, and vice versa. at the very least he isn't screaming at their sudden visits, be it flying through the window or just popping out of something they climbed on.

who's screaming though are his dorm members, and he's found humors in the encounters.

"ah, thank you, myrcella." he nods gingerly, toward the very tiny white mice who seems to twirl around, touched by the thanks. the little thing was nice enough to carry the pen he'd been using to scribble down the main definitions he'd been copying from the textbook.

in the middle of reaching for a glass of water the door opens, riddle watches one of his residents striding in rambling. probably about to be exposed to the sight of a group of mice sleeping on top of each other atop a cushion he'd personally placed for them.

and maybe the birds. whom seemed comfortable by his small collection of plants.

"dorm leader, octavinelle stude—GAHHHH—"

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honeyedfate · 1 month ago

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i'll be here when you're back | 이희승

pairing. lee heeseung x gf!reader

ever since his room was revealed to the world on mbc world, heeseung has not known peace—whether it be from engenes or his very own girlfriend

genre. fluff (they're making out? it's cute)

a/n. it's been months but heeseung's room still gives me the giggles. the title doesn't have anything to do with the fic except that it's the song i was listening to while writing it lol it fits the vibes? (don't ask me what the lyrics are) enjoy x

"what's so funny?" you look up to heeseung turning in his gaming chair, glancing over his shoulder at you with a curious smile, his headphones resting around his neck.

you wave him off, still giggling. "you wouldn't like it."

he cocks his head, standing up. "what do you mean? i always find the stuff you show me funny. we share the same brain cell."

"this is different," you say, scooching over so heeseung can join you on the floor with his back against his bedframe. "no, wait—"

heeseung has your phone in his hands before you can stop him. he swiftly leans back, holding out his arm to keep you away while typing in your password. the phone unlocks to a paused tiktok video of what he immediately recognises as his room.

"why are you watching this?" he glances at you with a sideways grin as you make to grab for your phone again only for him to lean back more and hold his phone above his head. "babe, you're in my room, you don't need to—wait, were you reading the comments again?"

"don't close the app," you plead at his narrowed eyes, practically lying on top of him now that he's fully horizontal. "i don't want to lose my spot in the comments."

heeseung scoffs and shuts off your phone. "it's not that funny, you know."

"oh, but it is."

he lets out a mock gasp. "people making fun of your boyfriend's interior design choices is funny to you? wow, my girlfriend hates me. i knew it."

you snort in his face. "hee, what choices? i saw the video. that singular shoe is not an artistic choice. we both know you've been looking for the other one since march."

he looks to his left, staring at the shoe that's still very much sitting on top of the box it came with. "i wonder if it's having fun and eating well wherever it is in the world," he mumbles wistfully.

you poke his cheek. "can i have my phone back?"

"so you can laugh at me with people on the internet? absolutely not. i'd rather you just make fun of me the old fashioned way—throw tomatoes in my face, pin a note on my back, shove me into a corner and point a finger at me. at least that'll make me feel like i have some dignity left."

you break into laughter. "i would love to, honestly, but the only thing you guys have in the kitchen is ramen. i don't want to break your pretty face with hard noodles, plus it'll probably echo so loud in here, the neighbours will think there's a shooting."

"oh, so you're a comedian now," heeseung says in a mockingly sweet tone before his hands attack your sides without warning. you're squirming as uncontrollable giggles take over, leaving you gasping helplessly while begging for him to stop.

finally, he pulls back when you manage to grab his wrists, holding them in place as you catch your breath. his grin softens. "truce?" he asks, voice low and teasing.

you nod, deflating on his chest while he tightens his arm around your waist to keep you close. "you're the worst," you say into the fabric of his sweater.

heeseung chuckles. "says the one giggling for ten minutes straight over comments teasing her boyfriend."

"i wasn't laughing that hard."

"right," he says with a drawling lilt in his voice. "when i heard you through my headphones, i thought, 'which dude is making you laugh like that under my roof?' only to find out it's engenes. it's an even crueler fate, if you ask me."

you shrug one shoulder, looking away nonchalantly when his gaze drops to your lips. "you'd agree if you read them. someone said, 'this gotta be solitary confinement.' you have to admit, that's funny! i have the right to laugh at their brilliance."

he stares at you blankly. "how is this solitary confinement when you're on top of me?"

"i'm not always here," you reply, raising an eyebrow. "someone else said you're evacuation ready. all you have to do is pick up those keyboards over there and walk out."

the slightest twitch in the corner of his lips spurs you on to keep going. "there was another comment saying you put the room in bedroom."

"okay, get off," heeseung says flatly while making no move to push you off. "that one's not even funny."

"maybe not." you glance at all the free space next to you. "but you could get a rug, babe."

he groans, tipping his head back and exposing the smooth stretch of his throat to you. of course, you lean up and press a brief kiss on his adam's apple. he looks down at you, smiling almost shyly before he shakes his head. "you're cute. but we're not having that conversation again."

pouting, you gesture around you. "you always say you don't spend enough time in your room to bother putting anything in it, but admit it—you were happy when we got that bin from daiso."

heeseung snorts and bobs your nose. "yes, i'm the happiest man alive. every day i wake up and i thank god that i have a girlfriend and a rubbish bin."

"see!" you ignore the amused look on his face and lay your head on his chest. the tension in your shoulders melts the moment you hear the familiar beat of his heart against your ear. "think about how much happier you would be when your room no longer looks like belift uses it for enhypen's dance practices."

he chuckles softly while running his fingers through your hair. "i've seen that one. someone commented that my room could fit the backup dancers, too."

you laugh. "it could."

comfortable silence wraps around you like a warm blanket, neither feeling the need to speak. you eventually lift your head to glance at him, lips curving into a smile when you see that his eyes are closed. you lean down and place a delicate kiss on his lips, light and fleeting, but enough to leave him grinning.

you repeat your action, your lips brushing his in the faintest touch only to feel him kiss you back, so gently it seems like a secret. you pull back when you heeseung's tongue traces your lower lip. his eyes flutter open, a silent question mark reflected in his dark eyes when you don't kiss him again. you tilt your head, mischief glinting in your gaze.

"hee?" you say quietly and he blinks up at you with large, doe-like eyes.

"hm?" he looks ridiculously soft and vulnerable lying underneath you like that. it almost has you changing your mind, but you love a good set-up.

"did you know engenes call you bitchless?"

you let out a surprised laugh when he flips you over. in the blink of an eye, he has you pinned beneath him and his lips are on you, peppering your face with tiny pecks, leaving behind a trail of laughter from you.

you try to push him away by the chest, but heeseung is relentless, placing kiss after kiss on your cheeks, the corner of your lips, your forehead, your jaw. you can feel him smile against your skin and you can't help but giggle deliriously. "what are you doing?"

"proving them wrong," he says while nibbling on the sensitive spot behind your ear, working his way down to the curve where your neck and collarbone meet. "obviously."

"obviously," you mumble back, selfishly enjoying the feeling of his lips on you. heeseung slowly lifts you up, somehow moving you onto the bed and laying your head on his pillow. his warm hand slips under your shirt, happy to roam your skin aimlessly while he kisses you dumb. there's nothing but heeseung on your mind, just him and the muffled groans leaving his lips when you pull on his hair while his knee rests between your legs.

then, the door falls open with a bang and you nearly push him off the bed.

"oh my god, sorry!"

heeseung flails, comically wide-eyed, and whips around to yell at whoever's at the door. you look past him to see riki standing with his back to the room, spewing incoherent apologies while his neck flushes bright red.

you pat your boyfriend's shoulder to catch his attention, silently shooting him a look when he frowns at you, lips pulled in a pout. smiling, you peck them one last time before pushing him aside to lie beside you. "riki, you can turn around."

the younger boy does, looking incredibly sheepish. "sorry for barging in. i didn't know y/n was here."

"it's fine," you say reassuringly. "don't worry about it."

"knock next time," heeseung grumbles before he pulls you up to sit beside him with a sigh. "what's up?"

riki rubs the back of his neck. "i'm going to the department store to get some stuff for my room, just wanted to see if you wanted to come along." in a quieter tone he adds, "the others are busy."

"so was i," heeseung mumbles and you smack him upside the head. gently, of course.

"he's going," you say to riki. "can i come with?"

"yeah, of course!" his face brightens up instantly. "i'll order the taxi, meet me downstairs in five!"

"wait, ni-ki—" heeseung hastily jumps up, but the boy has already left and closed the door behind him, leaving him to stare at it like he's just been bereft of every shred of joy and peace he's ever known. he turns to you with an exasperated look on his face. "seriously? to get things for his room? you planned this."

you shake your head, rising to your knees to be more at his eye level while doing a horrible job at suppressing your giggles. "i wish i did, but the joke wrote itself. now go put on some pants. he said downstairs in five."

#lee heeseung x reader #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung x you #lee heeseung x y/n #lee heeseung #lee heeseung fluff #lee heeseung fic #heeseung x you #heeseung x yn #enhypen #enha #enhypen fic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fluff

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the-offside-rule · 17 days ago

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Joe Burrow (Cinccinati Bengals) - Game Day and Grammys

Requested: no but someone asked about NFL imagines and the Pro Bowl and Grammys were on so how could I miss this opportunity?

Prompt: Joe Burrow x singer!girlfriend

Warnings: none other than it being long and full of fluff

NFL requests are open ♡

Y/n sat in the plush chair of her hotel suite, a stylist curling sections of her hair while another dabbed powder on her already flawless face. The room buzzed with quiet excitement—her team murmuring about last-minute dress fittings, run-throughs, and camera angles. After all, tonight was the biggest night of her career. Five Grammy nominations. Five.

But her attention? Completely divided. On the sleek flatscreen across the room, the Pro Bowl was in full swing. Her boyfriend, Joe Burrow, was out there, tossing passes and leading drives while she got glammed up for music’s biggest stage. She’d wished she could be there, but the Grammys and the game fell on the same night, and there was no way to be in two places at once.

Her phone vibrated in her lap. Another text from Joe.

Joe: This is so much fun. Wish you were here

She grinned, typing back quickly.

Y/n: Wish I was too. But you better be focused, Burrow. No interceptions.

Another buzz.

Joe: No INTs. Just vibes. Also… scored a touchdown. No big deal.

Y/n let out a laugh, her lips quirking as she typed her reply.

Y/n: A touchdown?? Damn, you haven’t scored one of those in a while.

Her stylist stifled a giggle behind her. "Good news?" She smirked. "Joe just ran one in himself." Her phone buzzed again.

Joe: Wow. The slander.

Joe: But fair.

Joe: Good luck tonight, superstar.

Joe: Ja'Marr said if you win two tonight, that makes it 9 grammys you have ever won

Joe: And guess what my number is?

Y/n chuckled at the coincidence. No matter where they were, no matter what they were doing, they were always supporting each other.

Y/n: Alright, QB1. Ill get the Grammy's you worry about not getting tagged.

With one last glance at the game, she turned back to the mirror, ready to take on her own championship night.

The flashbulbs were blinding as Y/n posed on the red carpet, her dress hugging her perfectly while she effortlessly smiled at the cameras. The energy was electric; reporters calling out her name, fans screaming behind the barricades. She was used to this, but tonight felt different. Bigger.

As she moved down the carpet, she began her interviews, each asking the same old question that she had rehearsed about a million times. How does it feel to be nominated 5 times? She had been nominated for Album of the Year, Song of the Year, Record of the Year, Pop Vocal Album and Music Video of the Year. She had been to the grammys before but she had only ever been nominated twice each year. Granted, she did win them, racking up an astonishing 7 grammys in just 4 years, but her once edgey music had shifted to softer love songs, all thanks to a certain quarter back.

She smiled as she moved on down the carpet to her last interviewer, a little kid who she had seen on tik tok time and time again. "Oh my gosh, hello!" She smiled as she did her best to get down onto the kid's level. Her calf were killing her from the heels standing, nevermind squatting down. "You look beautiful. I love the dress." She said. "Thank you! And you look so beautiful too." The child replied. "I have a few questions for you if thats okay?"

"Of course! I would love to hear them." Y/n said warmly as she held her own microphone. "So, obviously this is your record for the most amount of Gammys that you have been nominated for. If you could go back in time and tell your younger self that this would be happening, what would you say?" Finally a way to answer the question of how she felt about being nominated that didn't involve her rehearsed answer. "I think I would tell my younger self to keep going, to believe in myself and don't put the guitar down because it's gotten me this far." Y/n replied. "Your album Nine Sunday Mornings was a very abrupt change in your music. It was more edgey and angsty the last time you were here-" Y/n laughed at the very blunt question. "Why do you think this change happened or is it because you just got bored of that genre?" Now that was a good question.

"I mean, as you said it was a big change. I mean any love song I wrote before was scrapped because I thought it was too sappy so I stuck to breakup songs or rage songs. I think the change came in meeting Joe. From the songs right down to the title it's all him. I remember the very night I met him I stayed up nearly all night writing about the like 5 minute encounter we had and now it's nominated tonight so. I have to give credit where credit is due." She answered. "Have you been keeping up with the Pro Bowl?" Y/n laughed, adjusting the Grammy-branded microphone in her hand. "Of course! I have it on in my hotel room. Joe keeps texting me updates, so I think I might have a better play-by-play than some of the commentators."

Her manager tapped her shoulder to tell her to make her way inside, so she bid the mini-reporter farewell and walked in to the packed venue.

Once inside, Y/n glanced around, trying to spot her team. The Grammys were always a production, but tonight, the room felt even bigger. Row after row of tables and glowing stage lights. She turned in circles, scanning the room. Where were they? Her manager, her producer, anyone?

"Y/n?"

She spun around to see Jack approaching, looking as effortlessly cool as ever. "Hey, are you okay?" She let out a slightly embarrassed laugh. "Yeah, I just… I can’t find my seat. I have no idea where my team is." Before Jack could respond, a familiar voice chimed in.

"She can sit with us!"

Y/n turned to see Taylor Swift standing a few feet away, a warm smile on her face. Taylor, dressed in an elegant yet edgy ensemble, motioned toward her table. "If you don’t mind sitting with us, of course." Y/n hesitated for a second. She didn’t want to intrude- Taylor was with her own crew, and this was a huge night for her, too. "Are you sure?" She asked cautiously.

"Of course! Come on." Taylor said, looping an arm around her gently as they started walking toward the table. "Besides, we have a lot to talk about. I can't believe this is the first time we're meeting." Y/n chuckled, relaxing a little as she took a seat beside her. "Are you going to the Super Bowl?" Taylor asked after a moment.

Y/n shook her head. "No, I’ve never actually been. I told myself I wouldn’t go until Joe is the one playing in it." Taylor’s brows lifted in amusement. "Oh that is goals."

"Plus, I’m heading to his family’s house to watch it with them." She added. "I think it’ll be more special that way." Taylor smiled knowingly. "There’s nothing like watching a game with the people who love him most. Honestly, I think you guys are gonna be there next year." Y/n nodded, already picturing herself in the Burrow family’s living room, wearing one of Joe’s sweatshirts, surrounded by his parents and siblings. It felt right. "Honestly, I don't wanna be too picky but I want a Bengals and 49ers Superbowl. That would cure the world, I think."

"That would be a good one."

Just then, the lights dimmed, signaling the start of the show. Y/n took a deep breath, ready to take on the night—Grammys, football updates, and all.

Joe stretched his arms over his head as he stepped into the hotel lobby, still buzzing from the Pro Bowl. The game had been fun, a rare chance to play a little looser, joke around with the guys, and even run in a touchdown himself—something Y/n was sure to remind him about later. His teammates followed behind him, still hyped up from the day. "Alright." Ja’Marr announced, clapping his hands. "Let’s turn on the Grammys. Gotta see Y/n win some trophies since Joe isn’t bringing any silverwear home."

Joe grinned as he nudged Ja'Marr for that dig, leading the way to the suite where they all piled onto the couches, flipping the TV on just in time to catch the ceremony in full swing. The room filled with snacks, drinks, and casual conversation, but anytime Y/n appeared on the screen, the guys would nudge Joe, who was watching intently, phone in hand, ready to text her.

Then came Best Pop-Vocal Album of the Year.

Joe sat forward, hands clasped as they listed the nominees. He knew how much work Y/n had put into this album—how many late nights, how many times she’d called him exhausted but excited, how much of her heart was poured into every track.

"And the Grammy goes to…"

Not her.

Joe exhaled, lips pressing together as he watched her smile and clap for the winner. She was graceful as ever, but he knew her well enough to see the flicker of disappointment in her eyes. "She said she was gonna be surprised if she got that one. She like, knew Sabrina was winning that hands down."

Then came Record of the Year.

Not her again.

"She got robbed." Russell Wilson muttered. "Bro, you're gonna be the first one singing Not Like Us at the halftime show next weekend." Lamar Jackson replied. "She's in like the toughest categories." James Cook added. Joe didn’t say anything, just shook his head. He hated seeing her not get what she deserved, but he knew Y/n. Knew she’d keep smiling, keep pushing forward. And damn it, he’d keep cheering her on, just like she always did for him.

It didn't matter. 2 down, 3 to go. Music Video of the Year.

Joe sat up straight. He knew this one mattered to her, too. Her video had been a passion project, something she’d fought to bring to life exactly the way she envisioned it. The competition was stacked—the other nominees had incredible visuals, and any of them could take it. Y/n sat at her table, her hands clasped in her lap, holding her breath. Joe could practically feel her nerves through the screen.

"She’s got this." He murmured. "She’s got this, she’s got this, she’s got this, come on, baby."

The presenter opened the envelope.

"And the Grammy goes to… Y/n Y/l/n!"

Y/n gasped, letting out the breath she’d been holding. Taylor pulled her into a tight hug as the entire table erupted into cheers. Joe leapt off the couch, throwing his hands in the air. "Let's go! Yes! Wooh!" The suite exploded with excitement- Ja’Marr was shouting, some of the guys were recording Joe’s reaction, and others were laughing as Joe jumped up, singing along to the snippet of Y/n’s song that played as she made her way to the stage.

On the screen, Y/n’s smile was blinding, eyes slightly glossy as she accepted her award. Joe grinned, pride swelling in his chest. She’d done it. Just like she always did. "Oh my god, wow." She began. "I’ll be honest, I did not expect Music Video of the Year. There had been some amazing Music Videos so I just wanted to congratulate my fellow nominees and their directors." Joe clapped as he listened to her. "I want to thank my team, the fans, my family and all of you who voted for the video. My boyfriend Joe of course, who may or may not be still playing his game of tag football but I'm gonna thank him anyway." His face grew red. "I think that's all I have to say to be honest. Maybe I'll see you up here again pretty soon."

Joe lounged back on the couch, finally feeling like he could relax a little after all the emotional whiplash of the night ao far and he was still buzzing from it. "She’s performing next." Ja’Marr pointed out, nodding toward the TV. Joe sat up again, straightening his hoodie as the camera panned to the stage. The lights dimmed, and then—there she was.

His girl.

Y/n stood center stage, bathed in golden light, singing a balld version of her nominated song. She wore the most stunning outfit—a gold sparkling, elegant number that hugged her perfectly. She looked ethereal. "Jesus Christ." Joe muttered under his breath before saying a little louder, "Her outfit is so pretty." Some of the guys laughed. "Yeah, it is." Ja'Marr teased with a smirk. "You good over there, Burrow?" Russell asked, causing all the other guys to take notice of his blushing face and tease him further.

Joe just waved them off, eyes locked on the screen. Then, just as the song picked up, she reached down, grabbed the edges of her outfit, and-

Riiiipppp

The elegant gown was gone, revealing a bold, dazzling second outfit underneath—sleek, fun, and perfect for dancing. "Oh my God." Joe groaned, immediately hiding his face in his hands as the entire room exploded. The guys were shouting, laughing, some recording his reaction as they all clapped and cheered. "Ayyy! Okay, Y/n!" Ja'Marr called.

Joe shook his head, chuckling as his ears burned. He peeked through his fingers just in time to see her seamlessly transition into the next part of the performance, moving with ease, completely in her element. She was dancing, smiling, engaging the crowd like she was born for this moment. "I didn't know she could move like that! Damn!" Trey said.

Joe dropped his hands, watching as Y/n held the mic out, getting the entire crowd to sing along with her. She looked so happy, completely in control of the stage, like she was having the time of her life. Joe smiled. His teammates might have been teasing him, but he didn’t care. He was just so damn proud of her. As the song ended,she looked aroukd for the camera that would be zooming in on her. She spotted it and winked, before blowing a kiss right to it. Joe reached for the imaginaru kiss and put it to his heart as the guys teased him even further for it.

Joe sat back against the couch, his arm draped over the back as the next category came up—Song of the Year.

"Alright, this one’s huge." Ja’Marr said, leaning forward. Joe nodded, eyes locked on the screen. Y/n had poured everything into this song and she loved it the most for reason unknown to him, and even though she’d already won Music Video of the Year, he wanted this for her. Badly.

The nominees were stacked— some of the biggest songs of the year, including Y/n’s. The room quieted as the presenter opened the envelope.

"nd the Grammy goes to… Kendrick Lamar, Not Like Us!"

Joe exhaled, shaking his head, but before he could react, he spotted Y/n on screen, grinning and dancing along to the snippet of Not Like Us that played through the venue speakers. Joe burst out laughing. "She doesn’t seem too bothered." Trey snickered. "Bro, she looks kinda tipsy."

The whole room chuckled as they watched Y/n dancing up out of her seat singing along as Kendrick made his way to the stage. She was still clapping and smiling, showing nothing but love for the win, and Joe couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly cool she was about it. "She’s just vibin'." Joe said with a smirk, shaking his head.

And then finally came Album of the Year.

Her final nomination.

Joe sat up one last time, his heart pounding a little harder. He could see Y/n on screen, hands clasped together, her lips pressed tight as she waited. The tension in the room was thick, even through the television.

The presenter opened the envelope.

"And the Grammy goes to… Y/n Y/l/n, Nine Sunday Mornings!"

She didn’t move.

She didn’t react at first—just sat there, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. Joe felt like the air had been sucked out of the room before he erupted. "Yes! Let's go baby!" He jumped up again, fists in the air as his teammates laughed, recording his reaction for the second time that night. "That’s my girl! That’s my girl!" He cheered, pacing the room as the suite filled with whoops and applause.

Back on the screen, Y/n finally stood, still in complete shock. As she made her way up to the stage, she kept shaking her head, her mouth open as if she still couldn’t believe it. She took the award in her hands, staring down at it, blinking before looking around. The crowd chuckled. She looked up at the mic, then back at the award. "What?" She squeaked.

Laughter rippled through the audience. Joe grinned, shaking his head. He could practically hear her thoughts—How? Against all those incredible albums? She took a deep breath, exhaling sharply, still looking down at the trophy. "I—I don’t even know what to say, honestly I'm a little drunk so-" Joe smiled proudly, watching her collect herself and begin her speech. She had done it. Two Grammys in one night. And even though he wasn’t there in person, he cheered for her just as loudly as she did for him on Sundays.

"I want to thank the incredible Jack Antanoff for helping me produce this album first and foremost, my team also. But there is one person in particular who I will ramble on about because he was the inspiration for every single song I wrote since the 9th of December 2023, when we first met." Joe felt his eyes watering upon hearing it. He didn’t lile seeing her cry, it often meant he would cry too. "The album itself is a hommage to the fact that it took just nine sunday mornings for us to decide we wanted to become a couple and honestly, those 9 Sunday mornings were the best I could have ever lived through because I got to fall in love with the love of my life." Joe wiped his eyes, lookong down as Ja'Marr patted his back in support. "Joe, wherever you are, I wanted you to know that this award is for you, you can put it right next to the Heisman and my other 8 Grammy's."

Joe chuckled lightly as her little dig. "And just in case this wasnt a clincidence enough already- I'm going to shout out Ja'Marr Chase for this information- this is my ninth Grammy, and its for Cinccinati's number 9." The microphone cut out, singalling that her time for speaking was up. She mouthed a very animated 'I love you' to the camera before smiling and heading off the stage.

As soon as Y/n sat back down at her table, she reached for her phone. Her hands were slightly shaking—part adrenaline, part sheer excitement. The night had been a whirlwind, and there was only one person she needed to talk to right now. She hit Joe’s contact, pressing the phone to her ear as the Grammys continued around her. The line barely rang once before he picked up.

"Baby!" She let out a breathless laugh. "Joe!"

"Oh my God!" He said, and she could hear the pure excitement in his voice. "You were insane. I mean first of all, two Grammys? And then that performance? What was that outfit change? You’re trying to kill me?" Y/n giggled, running a hand through her hair. "Did you like it?"

"Like it? Babe, I almost had a heart attack. These guys aren't gonna let me live it down." She laughed again, picturing Joe hiding his face in his hands while all his guys teased him. "I was just thinking about you the whole time." She admitted, voice a little softer now. "I figured you were watching."

"Of course I was watching." He said immediately. "Are you kidding? We had the Grammys on as soon as we got back. I was cheering for you all night." Y/n smiled, glancing down at her awards sitting in front of her. "It still doesn’t feel real. I mean…Album of the Year? What?"

"You earned that, Y/n. No one deserved it more." She bit her lip, warmth spreading through her chest. "I mean, Billie should have won it." She replied. "Oh my God, I'm gonna cry again."

"No, don't cry." He said quickly. "Not unless it’s happy tears." She laughed, leaning back in her chair. "How was the Pro Bowl? I feel like I barely got to ask you." Joe chuckled. "It was fun. I mean we lost, but it was fun."

"What was the score?" She asked. "Like 76 to 63 or somethin' like that?" He looked around for nods of approval. "Did I mention I scored?" Y/n chuckled. "Yeah and as I said before I haven’t seen you do that in a while."

"Okay, woah." He deadpanned, and she could hear his teammates laughing in the background. "I’m kidding." She teased. "I’m proud of you."

"I'm proud of you too, baby." Y/n exhaled, her whole body finally starting to relax after the chaos of the night. "I just wish you were here."

"Yeah, I know." Joe said softly. "But I’ll see you tomorrow. And then we can celebrate properly." She grinned. "Deal."

"I love you, Baby."

"Love you too, Shiesty "

As she hung up, she clutched her phone to her chest, still smiling. It had been a night to remember— and she couldn’t wait to get home to him.

#joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x you #joe burrow x oc #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fic #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow #nfl x reader #nfl imagine #nfl football #nfl fic #nfl

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withwritersblock · 7 months ago

Text

What's It To You

~What's It To You by Clay Walker~ Author's Note: requested! I love writing proposals Summary: Quinn and Y/N are the last of their friends to get engaged Warnings: none? Word count: 2,622

It was the end of wedding season. Quinn and Y/N had attended five weddings over the summer. Today, her roommate from college was getting married. Vivian and Y/N were roommates for every year that they were in school together. They were quite close but Y/N moved to Vancouver after school.

It would’ve been difficult to include Y/N in the bridal party so she is only going as a guest. Which Y/N didn’t mind, she was still going to be seeing one of her closest friends getting married. She stood in front of the floor length mirror, admiring the pastel blue dress on her frame. It was floor length and fitted. She ran her hands along her stomach, her hips as she took in a shaky breath.

The original dress she had brought with her, somehow ripped on the flight from Vancouver to Michigan. This was her backup dress, but it was a backup for a reason. She saw Quinn walk into the room, adjusting the collar of his white undershirt. He smiled widely once he saw her.

“Oh, wow,” he mumbled out, his cheeks pinking up slightly at the sight of her. Every ounce of insecurity she felt in that moment dissipated as she tilted her head to the side as she watched him walk up behind her. He slowly wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her slowly towards him. He rested his head onto her shoulder, meeting her gaze through the mirror.

“You look handsome,” she whispered. He smiled softly as he pressed his lips to her shoulder for a moment before he spun her to face him. She rested her hands onto his shoulders as he kept his hands on her waist.

“Thank you, pretty girl,” he whispered before he leaned towards her, kissing her delicately. “We have to get going to the ceremony,” he whispered against her lips. She nodded slightly as she leaned towards him, kissing him one more time before she slipped from his grasp to take a hold of her phone and small wallet. Both of which fit in her dress pockets, she was ecstatic.

It was twenty minutes later and the ceremony was going to begin in a few moments. Quinn and Y/N sat on the bride’s side, despite them both knowing Vivian and Michael. Quinn looped his arm around the small of her back, resting his hand onto her waist. They were sitting on the end, excitedly whispering towards one another as Michael began walking down the aisle. He had a wide grin on his face as he wiped a small tear that fell onto his cheek.

Michael stood at the end of the aisle, waiting for his bride to meet him. Quinn leaned towards Y/N, pressing his lips to the side of her head for a moment.

“What was that for?” she asked softly. He smiled, shaking his head slightly as the wedding song began to play. The doors behind them swung open as the bridal party started to walk down the aisle.

Each one of the groomsman fist bumped Michael as they walked past him towards their designated spots beside him. Y/N felt her eyes tear up as she watched Vivian walk down the aisle with both her mom and dad beside her. Michael dropped his head as he brought his hands towards his face, wiping the tears that were falling. The tears of joy.

She was fighting her own tears, once she met Y/N’s gaze, her smile widened. Vivian shifted her gaze back towards Michael, her smile was still wide as she was fighting the tears forming in her eyes. Y/N titled her head against Quinn’s shoulder.

The priest began the ceremony. Vivian and Michael were looking towards one another with so much love, it was hard to not envy them. They’ve been together for two years less than Y/N and Quinn, and they were probably equally in love.

Obviously their circumstances were crazily different with Quinn being in the NHL. Y/N didn’t mind until wedding season became more and more weddings. It started out being one or two a summer but this year they reached five weddings. It was hard not to be jealous with all of the love and in the air. She wanted to have that feeling.

Quinn has always been good at keeping surprises secret. Especially surprises for Y/N. He knew she had no idea. She was clueless. Y/N and Quinn were visiting his family at the lakehouse after the wedding. He has a whole plan for his proposal, he was just waiting until the perfect time to do it. It would be tomorrow night.

After another twenty minutes, Vivian and Michael kissed, tying the knot. They excitedly held hands as they began walking out of the wedding ceremony hand in hand. The wedding reception venue was on the same lot which had many of the guests instantly started walking towards that.

Y/N dabbed her finger against the corner of her eye as she took a deep breath. “God, I miss her,” she mumbled as she met Quinn’s gaze. He pouted slightly, guilt flowed through his body as he is the reason she moved to Vancouver.

“I know, my love,” he whispered as he leaned towards her, kissing her delicately. “We’re in Michigan for a few weeks, after her honeymoon we can visit her again,” he whispered into her ear before he pressed his lips to her cheek.

“Okay,” she mumbled sadly. She rested her hand onto his cheek for a few seconds before she stood up, Quinn followed in pursuit as they both began walking out of the ceremony venue towards the reception venue. He rested his hand on the small of her back as they walked down the aisle together.

Once they were in the reception venue it seemed to create an instant emotion switch. The music was loud and the dance floor was already full to the brim with the guests. Even Vivian’s older family members were dancing together. Y/N eyes widened when she saw her other roommate, Hannah, from the opposite end of the venue. Hannah took a hold of her new husband’s hand and began jogging across the venue to greet Y/N.

“Y/N! Oh my goodness, look at this place!” she said excitedly as she hugged Y/N. Hannah’s husband, Kyle, nodded politely towards Quinn.

“I know, it’s insane,” she mumbled as she pulled away. Hannah was smiling widely as she greeted Quinn. Hannah glanced down towards Y/N’s hand, noticing no ring.

She frowned, “Quinn how is it you and Y/N have been together the longest and have yet to get engaged,” she said mostly teasing. Quinn chuckled nervously as he met Y/N’s gaze, he saw her smile falter slightly.

“It’s just been a busy year, Hannah, you know with the whole Captain stuff. But soon,” he mumbled. He’s been saying soon for almost two years now, but this time he really meant it.

“Right, soon,” she teased as she took a hold of Y/N’s arm and dragged her towards the bar. Quinn and Kyle have only briefly hungout a few times in college but only with Y/N and Hannah.

“I’m gonna-” Quinn mumbled awkwardly as he pointed behind him.

“Yeah, me too,” Kyle expressed as the pair followed after their partners towards the open bar. They didn’t speak as they reached the bar to see Hannah and Y/N catching up.

It has probably been eight months since the last time they saw each other in person. “Is the goal to stay in Vancouver?” Hannah asked as she brought her glass towards her lips, struggling to get the straw in her mouth.

“We want to, yeah. We don’t want to buy a house or anything until he gets a longer contract,” Y/N explained as she smiled towards the bartender as she took the glass from them. Her eyes lit up as she saw Quinn. He leaned towards her, kissing her cheek. She hummed as she reached her hand out, gliding it from his shoulder down his arm. “He was just named Captain though, so we shall see,” she mumbled. He smiled shyly.

“What if you get traded?” Kyle asked Quinn directly. Quinn shrugged, a small grin on his lips.

“I guess it really depends on where I’m playing at the end of my career,” Quinn mumbled.

The bartender switched his attention back towards the small group, getting the boys orders before he started making the drinks.

“I would like to stay in Vancouver, but that’s not really up to me,” Quinn explained.

Later in the night, they were tipsy and officially on the dance floor. It took some convincing but Quinn was dancing happily with Y/N.

“Alright, the bride and groom ask that all the couples go to the dance floor for this next slow dance,” the DJ let out into the microphone. Quinn smiled towards Y/N as he excitedly pulled her towards him. He looped his arms around her waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

They began to play a slow song that neither Quinn or Y/N recognized but they were still happy to get this moment together.

“What song should we do for our first dance?” he asked, scanning her features. She squinted her eyes slightly, her lips slowly curled up into a small grin.

“I don’t know, we both suck at dancing so we’re going to have to do a basic slow dance. But I don’t want Zach Bryan,” she explained. He nodded slowly. “I know you love him-”

“His songs don’t really match our vibe,” he muttered as he slowly pulled her towards him, making them only a few inches apart.

“I haven’t really thought about it,” she mumbled, tilting her head to the side. Scanning his features, “Kind of have to be engaged to start thinking about those details,” she offered. He smiled a toothy grin for only a moment before he leaned towards her kissing her urgently.

“Soon, my love,” he whispered against her lips.

“Soon like another two years soon or soon like you’re proposing today. Which I’d advise you not do because you know how much I hate it when other couples do that,” she explained. He chuckled nervously.

“Soon like soon like it’ll happen soon,” he said jokingly. She rolled her eyes playfully as she rested her head onto his shoulder, he tilted his head against hers. As they continued swaying, they remained silent.

“Soon like I should always have my nails done?” she questioned, half joking half seriously.

“I would say yes but baby you always have your nails done,” he joked.

“That’s because you’ve said soon for two years, I wanted to be ready,” she teased.

“And you will be,” he let out, knowing that her white nails she had on would look beautiful with the ring he was planning on proposing with tomorrow night. She took in a long dramatic breath. “You’re going to look so beautiful, I think I’ll cry more than Michael,” he whispered. She rolled her eyes as she lifted her head, meeting his gaze.

“I love you, Quinn Hughes,” she mumbled. He smiled softly as he leaned towards her, kissing her softly.

~A Day Later~

Y/N had been distracted all afternoon. Everyone in the Hughes family was involved in the proposal one way or another. Ellen and Y/N were at the local shops all afternoon, shopping and spending time together. Ellen has loved Y/N ever since the first time Quinn brought her home. It wasn’t suspicious to Y/N when Ellen asked if she wanted to go, it was normal for them to do that at least three times before they both head home.

Jim was getting the food essentials ready for after the proposal for the small party they were having. Jack was on occupy friends and family until it was proposal time. Y/N and Quinn’s closest friends were in town to celebrate and Y/N’s family made the drive up from Illinois to watch it as well. Everyone arrived around five o’clock and Jack was on host duty.

Luke and Quinn were the ones setting up the whole plan. Luke was wandering the small dock tossing red flower petals everywhere. Quinn was placing small candles around the edges of the dock.

“Dammit,” he muttered as he burned himself with the lighter. “Stupid,” he let out as he placed the last lit candle onto the edge of the dock. The sun was starting to set but the candles created a nice orange glow over the lake and the dock.

“You know she’s going to say yes, right? You have nothing to worry about,” Luke tried to calm him down, his assistance fell short. Luke dropped the last petal onto the dock, smiling to himself.

“What if something goes wrong? Like what if she falls into the lake?!” he asked panickly. Luke laughed, he saw Quinn’s death glare and quickly wiped the smile off of his face.

“She’s not going to fall into the lake,” Luke said flatly. Quinn took a shaky breath as he felt his watch vibrate. He glanced down seeing a text from his mom saying they were pulling into the driveway. Quinn’s eyes widened.

“Okay, go! They’re here!” Quinn whispered loudly towards Luke. Luke nodded dramatically as he cautiously jogged off of the dock towards the house. There was a photography hidden, Quinn had no idea where she was but he knew the photos were going to look fantastic.

It took a few more minutes before Y/N began walking the path towards the back of the lake house. “Quinn?” she called out. She lifted her gaze from the grass, seeing the set up Quinn created. Her eyes widened as her lips began to quiver. He smiled widely towards her, it was still a distance and he started walking down the dock to meet her.

“What is this?” she asked softly as she finally met up with him a few feet before the dock. He smiled towards her as he rested his hand onto the small of her back. He guided her down the rose petal covered dock, the softly lit candles. It was stunning.

“I’m not really good with speeches, but-”

“Quinn,” she asked softly, her eyes filling with tears. He chuckled nervously.

“I have been in love with you since the moment I laid my eyes on you,” he expressed, taking a hold of her hands, “I remember the smile you gave me, I never wanted you to stop smiling. I told you that I was moving to Vancouver, only after six months of dating and you cheered me on. You believed in me more than I ever could. I realized that having you by my side made me a better man. You taught me how to love and how to be loved,” he explained, looking deeply into her eyes.

He slowly got down on one knee, pulling the ring box from his jean pocket. He clicked it open, smiling softly. “Will you marry me?” he asked. She nodded dramatically, unable to speak any words. He stood up, shutting the ring box to keep it safe. He engulfed her in a tight hug. She let out a soft giggled as he lifted her up from the ground.

“I love you,” she whispered into his ear before she pulled back, meeting his gaze. His eyes were teary as he scanned her features. He leaned towards her kissing her urgently as the crowd from inside excitedly walked out of the house to greet the newly engaged couple.

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kabr0ztrousers · 9 days ago

Note

If you are comfortable with it, can you do chubby fem reader x orc step dad x orc dbf? Step dad's been trying to set her up with his friend but she is not interested. One day they both corner her. Step dad is mainly holding her against him while his friend is burying his face and cock in her pussy. The step dad doesn't penetrate her but gropes and says some really gross things. Heavy breeding kink on this one.

Sounds hot! And it'll be nice to get back to some high fantasy!

Kabr0z Writes episode 42: Orc Daddy

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: Dubcon going to enthusiastic consent; size difference; age difference; father-daughter; arranged marriage; breeding; deep penetration; groping; extreme cum;

A/N: Wow, episode 42 already. I definitely should've written a special one for today in advance to mark this particular milestone, but oh well.

There's 10 stories in the queue at time of publication, so if you send a request and don't see it for a few days please have faith, it's coming.

On the subject of requests, please do keep them coming! I have a couple of anons claiming emojis, so if you want one then you might want to grab it early!

Any idea, kink, scenario, whatever, drop me an anon or a DM and I'll make it happen!

#####################################

The village was never quiet. Orcs all have a competitive streak, the young ones always brawling, racing, drinking, trying to outdo one another. To say nothing of the constant sounds of work being done, labourers chopping wood in the forest, mining ore out of the mountain, singing bawdy songs waiting for the charcoal to bake, and your step-father smithing the tools that made it all happen.

You'd been adopted into the village almost 15 years ago as a child after bandits attacked your family in the mountains. Only you got away and were found by a hunting party days later, half starved and freezing. They brought you back to the village, unsure about what to do with you. An extra mouth was a burden, and a human no less. You were lucky the village blacksmith, a hulking, bearded orc named Mazorn.

Of course, you're in your early 20s now. The young orcs in the village were all interested in you and while you'd had the odd roll in the hay, Mazorn wasn't keen on any of them getting too close to you. He kept on going on about one of his friends from another village nearby, a grizzled warrior called Oreg. You weren't particularly interested in the idea of an arranged marriage to begin with, let alone with some old friend of your father's.

It was raining hard when the caravan arrived. Furs and trade goods from the city, along with a huge figure clad in platemail. The whole village came out to see, the suit glowed with enchantment, emblazoned with shining gilt fittings and a rich red cloak, a matching shield on his back and a longsword on his hip. A bit much for a caravan guard. Your father stepped out towards him, and they grabbed one another in a hug, Mazorn's huge hand clapping on the shield, the knight's clanking on the orc's back. They laughed heartily before Mazorn brought him over to you

"This is the daughter I've told you about!" Mazorn gestured to you as the other man lifted his helmet.

Underneath was a scarred orc, tusks filed short and short-stubbled. "I see you raised her well, old friend!" Oreg clapped Mazorn, looking at you "Certainly haven't been under-feeding her"

You blushed, conscious of his eyes on you. You weren't sure if it was the armour, but it was kind of turning you on. Oreg and Mazorn walked back to the smithy, you in tow as they reminisced about their glory days. You hadn't taken your old dad for a warrior, but apparently they used to be shield brothers in some war or other. The ale was flowing freely between them, perhaps too freely as you noticed Oreg taking longer and longer glances at you. The armoured orc was gradually taking pieces off, bracers, greaves, miscellaneous plates protecting his joints and flanks.

You could smell him as the armour came off, strong and musky. It wasn't unpleasant per se, you'd spent your life around orcs, but it was noticeable. Oreg motioned to you to help him with some of the harder to reach buckles and straps "I'd normally have a squire around to help with this, but he's helping the caravaneers. You should know your way around all this anyway, your father made most of it"

The last plate to come off was his cuirass, once he stripped the chain surcoat and the gambesson underneath, Oreg was sat half naked and glistening with a thin layer of fresh sweat. His shoulders were broad, his back criss-crossed with scars. Only a loincloth covered his manhood. Muscles rippled under his skin as he stretched and shook himself, cushioned by the layer of fat ubiquitous among the strongest orcs in your village.

You caught yourself staring, swallowing the mouthful of drool you'd produced looking at him.

Your father looked at Oreg "Thirty gold pieces"

Oreg laughed, "Done! She's worth at least fifty"

Were they talking about you?

Mazorn lifted you, as though you weighed nothing. He held you under a shoulder and gripped your thick thighs, forcing them apart and presenting you to the other orc. You blushed, underwear wasn't a part of your wardrobe, so your unprotected pussy was completely bare to Oreg "She's useful about the house, but she's a been a bit of a whore in her time, already laid with half the lads her age. Want to get shut of her before she gets herself knocked up"

Oreg touched your pussy, opening it up with his calloused fingers "Hmm, certainly not a virgin, but clean and well cared for... Thirty is fair."

You heard a coinpurse hit the table. You'd been sold, like a prize hog at market. Or a breeding sow.

Mazorn shifted you in his grip, holding you upright by the tits, his huge hands groping you as Oreg pulled his loincloth aside

"I'd better see to her properly now she's mine" His hands were rough and strong, but his nails well manicured and clean. He tore off your skirt and got down on one knee in front of you, eyes level with your already moist pussy as you struggled against your adoptive father's grip.

Oreg held one leg up as he filled you with a thick finger, the rough skin making you shudder in anticipation as it gently worked its way inside. Another finger joined it, you whined as they stretched you, but Oreg was careful not to hurt you as he slowly twisted them inside you, going this way and that, paying attention to where made your breathing catch, your pulse quicken, your toes curl.

You'd stopped struggling now, holding your legs open for the big orc to finger you, Mazorn's voice came from beside your head "See? I told you she's a slut, already she's giving herself over to you! And after all her complaining about wanting to pick her own mate!"

You couldn't disagree. You'd fancied Oreg since you'd set eyes on him, you were probably going to try and get this orc 20 years your senior to finger you tonight anyway. You bit your lip, the sensations getting to you. Mazorn started groping at you faster, your whines cued Oreg to let go of your leg, using that hand to rub your clit.

You came with a wail, your cunt eagerly accepting the fingers rolling around in it, your hips thrusting, trying in vain to fuck him back. Oreg stood up, holding his erect member in one hand, he could probably fit two of those hands next to each other on his cock and still have length to spare.

Two of his hands, or one of you.

He lined up his cock with your pussy, looking down into your begging eyes as he rubbed it against your clit and your hole. It was almost comically thick, the head pressing against the cit and the opening at the same time.

You nodded at him, putting your hands on his waist as he gently rubbed himself into you.

"Take it, take your new husband" Mazorn growled into your ear. You knew he'd fantasized about doing this himself so many times, muttering your name as he wanked himself to sleep when he thought you were asleep. You could feel his cock getting rock-hard behind you, pressing against you through the fabric of his trousers. But you were Oreg's now, and there was nothing he could do about it as you rubbed your ass against him. The bastard had sold you, the least you could do was give him some seller's remorse.

Oreg pushed himself in. It didn't hurt, the stretching from his fingers and the liberal amount of your juices on his cockhead meant he slid in without pain. It still made your eyes water, tears building as your mouth lolled open and you groaned from the immense pressure inside you. You moved your hips against him, wrapping your legs around his trunk, but you could no more hurry him that you could pull up an old oak. Slowly, carefully, he pushed into you. You felt his tip kiss your cervix and moaned again, open mouthed and animalistic.

He stayed still for a moment, resisting the pulling of your legs, the urging in your eyes. "Please" you breathed, barely a whisper "please, more"

Mazorn laughed "See? The slut wants it all! She's well broken in, brother, you can have fun"

Oreg looked into your eyes, waiting for your nod.

You gave it.

He pushed.

You felt the cock slip by your cervix, pushing deeper into you as be bottomed out in you. Your eyes defocused as you wordlessly begged him. Your hips moved on their own, without rhythm, running on sheer desperation for his cock.

He started to fuck you properly now. Starting slowly, thrusting in and out in long motions, slathering himself in your juices and getting your fuckhole relaxed as he built up speed. You felt like you were melting into him. Your legs started to slip a little as he fucked you senseless. His hand came up to your face, the two fingers that had been inside you thrust into your mouth. You sucked on them, tasting your wetness. You felt your cunt drooling out even more as he invaded your mouth

"You like your face being fucked too?" Oreg grinned "Your father's a fine smith, but no salesman"

His fingers fucked your face harder as he pounded into your cunt. You felt your body start to twitch and tense. Your head was spinning. Your legs clenched around him. You moaned again and again, the noises merging into a wail of release as your cunt tightened and relief filled your body. You could feel the waves of warmth and pleasure making your pussy pulse around Oreg's cock.

He groaned in time with you. He thrust himself in, his balls pressed against your asshole as they pulsed and tightened into him. Surge after surge of hot liquid pumped up into you. You could feel the pressure of it squirting it into every corner of your cunt, flooding your womb and leaking out around his cock, and it kept coming.

You could hear Mazorn grunting as well as the bulge of his cock started to twitch, a damp patch spreading on your back as you leaked the younger orc's cum onto your stepfather's clothes.

Oreg wrapped his arms around you, and Mazorn released you into his embrace. The knight carried you, still buried in your cunt, and sat down.

The way he looked at you, with such tenderness, you wouldn't believe his cock was buried over a foot deep in you if you couldn't feel it in your guts. You kissed his chest and rested your head, letting the blissed-out feeling take you as you both dozed in each other's arms.

You left with him in the morning.

It was over a month until the caravan got back to Oreg's home, every night punctuated with another round of intense, yet strangely gentle, lovemaking. Your monthlies hadn't came, you reckoned that a gallon of orc cum every night had seen to that. It turned out Mazorn had rather undersold Oreg to you. He wasn't some foreign warlord, he was a duke under the Imperial crown. Apparently the old war they were drinking to was a crusade against a lich king, and for his valiance he was granted a noble title. He'd spent the last twenty years as a paladin of Pelor and had only recently received permission to take a wife and continue his lineage.

You still weren't happy about being sold, but figured you could live with it, Mazorn always was looking out for you, in his way

###############################

This is another one I really enjoyed writing! A little exposition, Oreg's actually based off a D&D character I played in my first proper campaign in that system, though his monstrous manhood never came up then. Just goes to show inspiration can strike from anywhere.

Hopefully you all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, and again if you have any ideas, scenarios, kinks, fanmail, hatemail, whatever, drop me a DM or an ask and I'll probably wind up writing it!

Again, there's 10 in the queue right now, but it will almost certainly get written 😁

Post-post script: I still haven't figured out how to reference the posterior fornix without feeling like I'm giving a biology lecture

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greengoblinswifey · 21 days ago

Text

Introducing—bimbo!nanny!reader

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. You were a total bimbo, through and through. Obsessed with all things pink, leopard print, Victoria’s Secret and rhinestones, just to name a few, you embodied early 2000s glamour. Your nails were always long and acrylic, your hair always styled to perfection, and your outfits? Always tiny, always tight, and always revealing just enough to make people stare.

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. Nicholas Chavez and his wife Victoria were looking for a nanny—someone responsible, experienced, and reliable to care for their two young children, Alexander who was 4 and Madison, 3, while their acting schedules grew more demanding. You weren’t exactly what Victoria had in mind, but Nicholas? He thought you were perfect.

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. Your dad had sent you the job listing, urging you to try something new—and more importantly, to make some extra cash to fund your shopping addiction. “Just in case you finally suck me dry,” he had joked, handing you the ad. So, you figured, why not?

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. At the interview, Nicholas couldn't keep his eyes off you. You had shown up in a cropped pink Juicy Couture tracksuit, your glossy lips pursed as you answered every question flawlessly. Despite your bubbly, seemingly airheaded persona, you were well educated, experienced, and more than capable. But Victoria had hesitated. “Are we sure she's the right fit?” she had asked Nicholas once you left. “She's perfect,” Nicholas had said without hesitation.

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. For the first few weeks, both Nicholas and Victoria stayed close, observing how you handled the children. To their surprise, you were incredible with them. You played with them for hours, read them bedtime stories in dramatic voices, sang their favorite songs, and even let Madison dress up in your clothes and heels.

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. Alexander was obsessed with you, almost as much as his father was. He clung to your side, mimicking your gestures, even staring at you with the same dreamy look Nicholas sometimes had when he thought no one was watching.

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. Victoria, however, wasn’t blind. The first time she caught you gawking at Nicholas—jaw slack, eyes wide, practically drooling—she had snapped, “Nicholas, put on a shirt.” He had smirked but obeyed, tossing on a t-shirt like it was no big deal.

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. But when she wasn’t home? Nicholas walked around freely—shirtless, towel hanging low on his hips showing his V line after a shower, muscles still damp, chest defined despite being in his early 40s. You had nearly dropped Madison’s juice box one morning when he sauntered into the kitchen like that.

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. “Oh my god,” you whispered, biting your glossy lip. He chuckled, leaning against the counter. “Something wrong?”

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. “Nuh-uh,” you said, twirling a strand of hair. “Just, like—wow.”

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. Nicholas was absolutely whipped. He couldn’t stop staring at you—at the way your little tops always had your bra peeking out, at the way your crop tops rode up to expose your belly button ring, and the tramp stamp paired with your Victoria Secret thongs that occasionally flashed when you bent over.

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. You were flirty, playful, always giggling and touching his arm when you talked. “Mr. Chavez, you’re sooo strong,” you gushed once, pressing a manicured hand against his bicep. He swallowed hard, flexing slightly under your touch. “You think so?”

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. “Mhmm,” you nodded, lips pursed. “Like, if I ever fainted, would you catch me?”

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. “I’d make sure you never hit the ground,” he said, voice low.

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. Victoria didn’t like how much time Nicholas spent around you. She wasn’t outright rude, but she was, watching. And you knew it.

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. But Nicholas? He didn’t even try to hide how much he enjoyed your presence. He lingered in the kitchen longer than necessary when you were making breakfast. He always made sure to say goodnight when you put the kids to bed. And sometimes—just sometimes—when you walked past him in your skimpy outfits, he let his gaze linger just a second too long.

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. You were naturally flirty, and Nicholas never stood a chance. Whether it was handing him a jar of jam and cooing about how big and strong he was when he opened it or lounging by the pool in your tiny pink bikini and asking him to rub sunscreen on your back, you always knew how to push his buttons. He tried to keep his cool, but you saw the way his jaw clenched, the way his hands flexed, the way his eyes always lingered just a second too long.

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. The way he looked at you wasn’t subtle. You caught him staring all the time. When you bent over to pick up Madison, when you stretched in the mornings and your playboy bunny belly ring glinted under the light, when you sat on the couch, twirling your hair and licking frosting off your fingers after baking with the kids. Once, you called him out on it. “You’re always staring, Mr. Chavez,” you giggled. His ears turned red, and he muttered something under his breath before leaving the room.

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. You never expected to get photographed with him, but you didn’t mind. Nicholas had taken you and the kids for ice cream, and suddenly, cameras were everywhere. “Nicholas! Who’s the girl?” one asked. “New nanny or new girlfriend?” You just giggled, wrapping your arms around his. “Oh my gosh, Mr. Chavez! Are we dating? Why didn’t you tell me?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re gonna get me in trouble.”

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. He did get in trouble. Victoria was pissed when she saw the pictures, and the tension in the house was thick. Later that night, you found Nicholas in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a glass of whiskey in hand. You licked whipped cream off your spoon, hopping onto the counter beside him. “Are you mad at me?” you pouted. He exhaled. “No, just—this is complicated.” Your silk pajama shorts rode up as you swung your legs. “Mmhmm. But complicated can be fun.” He looked at you for a long moment—then suddenly, he was there, standing between your legs, hands gripping your waist.

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. You had shared a slow kiss, hesitant. But when you sighed against his lips, pulling him closer, he groaned and deepened it. His hands roamed, fingers brushing your exposed skin. You tasted like sugar, smelled like vanilla and flowers, and Nicholas couldn’t get enough. When you finally pulled away, breathless, you licked your lips, smirking. “Wow. You’re really good at that.” He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling. “This is bad.” You kissed his jaw, giggling. “Mmhmm. And you love it.”

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. You had always been into older men, and Nicholas was no exception. The way they carried themselves. The way they spoke. The way they looked at you—like they actually saw you. Boys your age were boring. Nicholas was not. And now, with his hands still lingering on your waist, his lips still tingling from yours, you knew one thing for sure.

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. You wanted more.

ೃ࿔*𓍢ִ໋✧˚. And so did he.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

a/n— I hope this introduction was good, send me requests for nicholas x bimbo!nanny!reader🩷

tags: @blackynsupremacy @hoffmansgirl @nicholaschavezslut69

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kykyonthemoon · 10 months ago

Text

The spaces between my fingers are right where yours fit perfectly

When comparing hands, you realize how tiny you are to him.

ಇ. Character x Female Reader/MC

(Included parts in order: Caleb, Xavier, Rafayel, Zayne)

ಇ. Tags: fluff, domestic fluff, established relationship, comforting and healing, size gap, long-distance relationship (for Caleb's part)

ಇ. Word count: 3k2

ಇ. Requested anonymously

ಇ. The title of this fic is a lyric from Owl City's song - Vanilla Twilight.

ಇ. Masterlist

ಇ. Request

𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃

Since childhood, you had always loved holding Caleb's hand.

You adored putting your small hand in his palm. To feel such warmth. His hands were usually larger than yours. At first, there was not much difference between the hands of two children. But as you got older, the gap widened. You began to notice this and frequently inclined him to compare hands.

“Hey Caleb, give me your hand.”

"What for?"

“Just do what I said, and give me your hand.”

Caleb was thrilled, waiting for you to place a piece of candy or anything intriguing in his hand, which had just expanded to its full size. Then he got upset when he felt the touch of your hand instead.

"What are you doing?"

"Hmmph." You pouted. "Still not as big."

You put your hand on Caleb's, measuring front, back, left and right. He eventually lost patience and said:

“Why are you measuring my hand?”

“Because I want my hands to be as big as yours. Only with such big hands can you hold so many gifts and pies from Grandma..."

Your face was extremely serious as you spoke, but it made Caleb roll around in the grass, laughing until his stomach hurt.

“Why are you laughing at me?!” You felt a little offended. You struck Caleb hard on the arm. It was painful.

"Ouch!" He yelled, then got up to face you. His hair still had grass in it. "Listen up, pipsqueak. Your hand will never be bigger than mine."

"Why?"

“Because I will always be taller than you, bigger than you. I must be taller to protect you and Grandma! My hands must be bigger to always hold yours!”

Having said that, Caleb curled his fingers around your palm. You grinned naively, believing that such large hands were ideal for doing all of the chores or lifting heavy objects for you.

One time, while learning to cook with Grandma, Caleb burned his hand. He tolerated pain very well and did not whine. On the contrary, it was you who frantically ran to find ointment to apply to him. You were crying:

“Caleb, you have to be careful! You have to take care of these hands... If something happens to them, who will do the housework for me?..."

Caleb laughed. He used his other hand to pat your head. “What are you worried about, pipsqueak? I will always protect you. Who did I start learning how to cook for?"

You sobbed. Honestly, you felt so terrible every time Caleb got hurt.

Time seemed to fly by. You both were growing up. The space between the two hands also extended. At one point, suddenly, just comparing hands with him turned your cheeks red.

But these days, you did not get to do that often anymore. Caleb went to the academy so far away, and then his long missions left him with few opportunities to visit home. In his free time, you could only chat with him online. You really missed the feeling of his large hands shielding yours. You said:

“Caleb. Give me your hand.”

On the laptop screen, he burst out laughing. “What now? Even though I'm so far away, you still want to measure my hand?"

“Just do what I said.”

Caleb shook his head in defeat. He brought his hand close to the camera and spread out five slim fingers. His hands were thin and smooth, but after being accepted into the academy, you could feel the roughness or new calluses there. You smiled, raised your hand to the screen and pressed it against his.

“Looking from this angle, my hand is bigger than yours!”

“Wow, pipsqueak has grown bigger and stronger than me!”

Oh, how much you missed him! You were about to burst into tears and tell him to come home to you right that moment. It had been a long time since his last return. You longed to hold his hand.

But you wouldn't make Caleb worry if he had to embark on a mission away from home. You tried to show him your brightest smile. And you whispered:

“Yeah. You've always taken care of me since I was little. Now it's my turn to be stronger to take care of you."

Caleb knew you so well, because you were always the thing in the palm of his hand he cherished most in the world. He was silent for a long moment, then gently said:

“Pipsqueak, don't be sad. I'll come home to you next weekend, okay? Make sure you eat plenty. If I return home and notice that your hands have thinned even just a little bit, I will be very displeased!"

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓

The first time you met him, he left an impression on you with his large and steady hand.

You found Xavier on a mission. Since he did not move, you came closer and gently shook him. Then his large hand gripped your wrist securely. You were astonished by the sudden vigor with which you were seized. To be honest, you were afraid at the moment.

The second time you met him, his big hand protected you once more and took you out of danger. That hand placed around your waist, not squeezing hard to the point you became uneasy, but it was a gentle touch, as if he was frightened you might vanish if he held you too closely. Perhaps from that moment on, you felt the warmth and safety of being in his arms. And all your walls eventually collapsed, embracing the way he entwined his soul with your own.

Then you became used to holding his hand as you walked together. When you had to maneuver through a congested area, he would gently squeeze your fingers, as if to remind you to pay more attention to him. And as you two went along a quiet street or sat on the subway with his head resting on your shoulder, he tenderly rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb. A gentle gesture, just enough to let everyone know that this girl was his.

His knuckles were hardened from sword practice. His skin was also consistently dry. He was clueless about how to take care of himself. So you began to learn about lotions for nourishing hands.You always carried a tube with you. On one occasion, you took it out and applied it to Xavier's hand.

"What's this?" He inquired.

“Hand cream.” You murmured this as you massaged the soft white cream into Xavier's obediently outstretched hands. “Your skin is so dry. I bought this for you to use.”

He did not answer, just stared intently at you taking care of him. When the thin layer of cream was absorbed, he turned his hands over and observed with a blank expression.

You giggled, then held out a hand in front of his face and said:

“Put your hand here.”

Xavier displayed confusion before placing his hand on yours and softly hitting the palm.

"High-five?" He inquired, continuing to appear perplexed.

"No." You answered, grasping Xavier's wrist to keep his hand close to yours. "I want to see how large your hands are. Hmmm…"

Xavier's hand was a little bigger than yours. You loved these hands. They constantly offered you a sense of security. On any endeavor, you could put your life in his hands without any hesitation. In daily life, you would always reach for his hand whenever you went out, or when your free hand wanted to feel his warmth. The only thing you never dared trust in these hands was, perhaps, cooking.

Xavier smiled. His hands felt significantly smoother after applying the cream, and they retained a very subtle flowery aroma. He laced his fingers with yours, then leaned down and placed a kiss on your hand.

“My hands smell like yours now.”

"Of course." You replied while blushing. “It's the same type of hand cream.”

Xavier did not respond. You caught him pondering for a long time. The next day, you found him applying the entire tube of cream on his hands.

"Oh dear! What are you doing? There's no need to apply that much!”

You quickly went to get a towel to help him clean up. He sat on the sofa, looking rather bewildered while you asked him:

“Are you going to use up the entire tube like that?”

Xavier responded: “Yeah… Since… This morning when I woke up, I couldn't smell your cream anymore. I want to use it all so the fragrance lasts longer.”

You rolled my eyes at Xavier, and a few seconds later you fell down laughing on the sofa. "Oh my! You did it in vain. These things don't last long."

“Is that so…” Disappointment was evident on Xavier's face. Seeing that, you sat close and tangled your hand with his. You said:

“If you like this scent, I will buy more for you.”

“What I like is your scent.” Xavier replied. His thumb caressed your hand. “I like the scent of your hair, your clothes, your hands… Everything that belongs to you…”

You were surprised, and delighted. Your face was more radiant than the sun outside the window. His hand felt so large and warm. If you could, you would never want to let go.

You squeezed his hand once. Fingers pressed closely together. You progressed from being terrified of this foreign hand to when it became familiar, and now inseparable. It was weird, since despite only knowing him for a short time, it felt like you had loved him your whole life.

Leaning your head on his shoulder, you whispered:

“Xavier, don't ever let go of my hand, okay?”

"Never."

𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍

You preferred to visit Rafayel's studio more frequently these days. Of course, compared to staying in a small apartment alone, coming here to work with him, drenched in sunlight and sea breeze, surrounded by flowers and grass, was definitely a much more sensible choice.

But the main reason remained Rafayel. You enjoyed watching him in silence, as he concentrated on painting. His long fingers wrapped around the brush, perfect as if he was the work of art. You had undoubtedly noticed Rafayel's hands since the first time you met, when he demonstrated his incredible fishing talents. He was adept at wielding a racket and far more skilled at holding a brush. The hues of the mythical world depicted in the painting gradually revealed itself under his magical hands. He did not always use a brush, instead dipping his hands in the paint, and as his fingers started dancing on the white canvas, you believed you saw a rainbow even though it was not sunny that day.

You loved how Rafayel rotated the brush in his palm while contemplating before getting started with painting. You loved the way his fingers held the chopsticks and transformed the food into a culinary movie. You liked the way he wrapped his long finger in your hair to play with it. It seemed that everything he did with his hands was perfect, and unreal.

“Rafayel. Can you raise your hand?” You asked him that out of nowhere one afternoon at the studio. He was focused on an art book, so he did not respond and simply executed what you asked.

You extended your hand, intending to press it against his. Yet he raised his hand a bit higher. You grimaced and lifted your palm high. He did that again, and again, until his arm was stretched to its full length, and so was yours. The only thing was, since yours was shorter, you could not reach his palm.

“Rafayel!” You shouted fiercely. He closed the book he was reading and flung it on the sofa. On his face was a triumphant smile.

"What? Can't reach it?"

With an irritated expression, you rose up and seized his hand. Fingers intertwined, perfect as if he and you were made for each other. You used a great force to push Rafayel down into the sofa, while your other hand maintained your body weight by positioning it near his neck.

The smile on Rafayel's face disappeared. The scarlet hue of a ripe tomato gradually crept across his statue-like face and reached his ears. Rafayel seemed displeased.

“Are you bullying me?”

“Who bullied who first?” You argued back.

Noticing that Rafayel had begun to move beneath you, his hand entwined with yours now yearning to escape, you held him even tighter. His hands were slender and cool, velvety like a baby's skin. The veins were barely visible underneath the thin skin. The fingers were extremely lengthy; they belonged to an artist rather than a warrior like you. Even his nails were tidy, pink, and well-filed. Looking back at your hand in his, it was dry and small, with short fingers and nails that were neglected due to a lack of time, you were unable to avoid feeling envious.

“Hey, if you want to hold my hand, just say it.” Rafayel gazed at you furiously. “Is it necessary to pin me down like this?”

“I don't want to hold your hand. I just want to compare it with mine.”

Rafayel scoffed. He replied: “Comparing hands, why? We all know for a fact that I have the most gorgeous hands in the world.”

Seeing how he started praising himself, I sat up bored, intending not to joke with him again. But Rafayel refused to let go of your hand. The other curled around your waist, clutching you hard.

"Where are you going? We haven't finished talking yet, have we? If you like my hands so much, how about I give them to you?”

"Huh?" You were a bit startled. In your mind a scenario of receiving a huge gift box. When you opened it, you discovered Rafayel's severed and bloody hands inside...

Rafayel squeezed your face, as if he knew you were thinking nonsense.

“Whatever you're thinking, with that expression, I'm sure it's not what I want. Follow me.”

Rafayel led you into the warehouse, he pulled out some plaster powder and a few necessary tools. Later that day, there was a new piece in Rafayel's studio, yet not a painting. It was a statue of a small hand tangled with a larger one. A precise duplicate of yours and Rafayel's.

“Come to think of it,” he said as he looked at the final work with you. “My hands are most beautiful when intertwined with yours.”

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆

Doctor Zayne's hands were often cold.

You still remembered learning to knit with Grandma and making gloves for Zayne when you lived close. Unfortunately, you did not get a chance to present them to him yet. You kept them in your old box at home till this day.

At the time, his hands were already significantly larger than yours. They were chilly since his Evol was occasionally unrestrained. In situations like that, he would put his hands in his pockets, look down, and leave fast. Even though you chased him down to ask him questions, he declined to speak, much alone show you his hands.

At the time, there was no scar on his hands.

Presently, when you put on his large gloves, you noticed how enormous his hands were. Your hand was buried beneath a thick layer of wool, only taking up about half of the glove's space. You rolled your eyes.

“Doctor Zayne, look!” You raised your gloved hand for him to see. The wool glove's fingertips had extra room and swung to the rhythm as you waved them. Obviously, the glove was excessively big for you.

“Stop playing around.” Doctor Zayne replied. He took the other glove and put it on your other hand. “Put this on.”

“It's too big. I feel like I'm a monster with gigantic hands!”

You laughed. Zayne grabbed your hands and hoisted them up. He inhaled to keep them warm and responded: "Because someone has lost her gloves on the way here, she must accept her fate of becoming a monster."

Zayne chuckled, but his serious expression made you question if he was fooling or condemning you for being irresponsible. He and you were on holiday in the snow-covered mountains. How silly of you to have misplaced your gloves and not remembered where you had put them. Hence he had to let you temporarily borrow his.

Even after you bought a new pair, you preferred the feeling of putting your hands in Zayne's gloves. Especially when they still felt his warmth lingering inside.

Zayne's hands were always so big, they were twice the size of yours. Your body shape was average, but when you stood next to him, you appeared strangely tiny. He could easily lift you up. He could hold both of your hands together with only one of his. And he could hold all five snow seals lined up side by side in one hand at your request.

His hands were covered with scars. When you inquired about their history, he just made up an explanation that he washed his hands too thoroughly. He saw you as a three-year-old child. Of course you did not believe it at all, but would not ask more until he was comfortable enough to share his story with you. You adored tracing the scars and veins that bulged beneath his skin. Sometimes, he felt ticklish. Other times, he would tell you to stop messing around while he was working. But he never truly pushed your tiny hand aside.

There were times when his hands became very cold. Extremely cold. As his habit, he buried them in his layers of garments without letting you know. He would not dare touch you since he was frightened you would catch that cold. Yet in moments like that, all you ever wanted was to hold him close.

You removed his hands from his coat pockets. They felt as frigid as ice when you touched them. Doctor Zayne frowned. He wanted to withdraw his hands but you clutched them hard. Your little, trembling fingers curled around and cherished those cold hands. You offered them your warm breath.

“Let go of them. You will be cold.” Zayne expressed worry. But you shook your head.

“Just wait a little longer and we'll both warm up.”

“I will… hurt you…”

That was what terrified Zayne. What if he lost control and accidentally hurt you? He would never be able to forgive himself if that happened. There had been many times he had avoided or hidden from you, but in the end, you were always the one who ran to his side when he needed you the most.

Eventually, he gave in. He relaxed his hands in your palms. He rested his head on your forehead, his eyes softly closing. In you there was always the warmth that he yearned.

After a while, Zayne warmed up. You were not cold anymore. Between the hands was an immeasurable warmth that both he and you desired to cherish forever.

That winter, you gave him a pair of new gloves with snowmen on that you had knitted. They clasped securely around Zayne's fingers, a reminder that no matter what, you would never let go of his hands.

969 notes · View notes

povlnfour · 8 months ago

Text

ੈ✩‧₊˚ HEY TWITTER! (AA23)

pairing: alex albon x f!reader

summary: alex spends the night of a concert dancing with a beautiful stranger, he remembers everything about her, from her outfit to what her favorite song was — well, except for her name.

genre: humour, fluff

authors note: dedicated to my fabulous 🪐 anon for the most incredible idea (and also just being the most beautiful human being)

*faceclaim for y/n: yasmin wijnaldum (but please imagine her as you see fit)

dutch anthem antis ੈ✩‧₊˚

alex_albon just tweeted ੈ✩‧₊˚

twitter reacts ੈ✩‧₊˚

meanwhile, texts between lily and y/n ੈ✩‧₊˚

lilymhe just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by yourusername and 23,018 others

lilymhe one of us had way too much to drink last night, you have one guess

view all comments

yourusername um idk this is really difficult

lilymhe it’s the sticker gem still on your face that is getting me

user wait…. is this her…

lilymhe is this WHO

user GUYS I THINK THIS MIGHT BE HER

user GOOD JOB INTERNET

user @/alex_albon CAN YOU CONFIRM OR DENY

alex_albon OH MY

user IM TAKING THAT AS A YES

new activity ੈ✩‧₊˚

alex_albon started following yourusername ➡️

⬅️ yourusername followed alex_albon back

dutch anthem antis ੈ✩‧₊˚

y/n’s dms with alex ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by lilymhe, alex_albon and 50,081 others

yourusername challenge: which one of us had the most fun this past few days

view all comment

alex_albon well if you don’t say you then i fear i bought you dinner for no reason

user IT WAS HER!!! WE DID IT GUYS

user he found out who she was a few hours ago and he’s already on her instagram… maybe he has more power than we thought

lilymhe definitely not me i’ve been sat in a hotel room while you go meet boys

yourusername he bought doughnuts for us to share. omw to you with them now🤝

lilymhe i take it back @alex_albon you can stay

alex_albon just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by yourusername and 150,608 others

alex_albon a story in 3 parts

view all comments

user idk what you did but i’m sure you deserved that middle finger

yourusername that food coma hit different

lilymhe you’re telling me i walked in to you both laying like vampires passed out

user the plot thickens

user heavily entertained by the idea of alex legitimately falling in love with a girl whilst drunk, hunting her down using the internet, and then going instagram official within 72 hours

user i don’t think they’re dating aha

user @/user ok well if he doesn’t want her then i do

user okay answer quickly are y’all dating

yourusername no one knows

alex_albon dating? what’s dating?

dutch anthem antis ੈ✩‧₊˚

williamsracing just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by yourusername, mclaren and 100,058 others

williamsracing hit tweet, who’s this?

view all comments

user WILLIAMS I LOVE YOU

lilymhe can u ask him to order me more doughnuts pls

user so real, using best friend privileges

user he’s not a want but a need

yourusername oh i miss that face already☹️

liked by alex_albon

mclaren @/williamsracing heard you may be in need of our services…?

williamsracing we’re listening👀

mclaren plans are already in action🤝

yourusername just tweeted ੈ✩‧₊˚

twitter reacts ੈ✩‧₊˚

williamsracing just posted stories ੈ✩‧₊˚

dutch anthem antis ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by lilymhe, landonorris and 56,109 others

yourusername safe to say he learnt the meaning of the word dating

view all comments

user FINALLY

user alex albon most successful twitter user

lilymhe AND I DIDNT HEAR ABOUT THIS???

yourusername i tried to ring you but you didn’t pick up😔

lilymhe @/yourusername RING ME AGAIN WTF

alex_albon @/lilymhe she’s busy rn😁

lilymhe @/alex_albon GROSS

alex_albon @/lilymhe NOT LIKE THAT

alex_albon just posted a photo, 1 year later ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 105,660 others

alex_albon got her number, remembered her name, kept her around for a year

view all comments

user wow who said romance was dead huh

user when we talk about having fanfic moments… that’s these two

user ok now bring her to the next race we miss seeing her in the paddock

landonorris and yet IM the one with no rizz

yourusername your girlfriend literally called you cute and you folded. shut up.

landosgf babe our relationship started because you hit me with your car ? that’s not rizz it’s stupidity

landonorris i regret ever introducing you two

yourusername i love you, or whatever🙄

mclaren @/williamsracing i’m not seeing a thank you?

williamsracing logan would have thanked us

alex_albon yes that’s right set him up next

logansargeant no thank yOU i can’t deal with the headache

——————

a/n: okay🤓 first post in a while. half written pre baby half written post. hopefully i’ve still got it LMAO. off to finish some written bits / write a new oscar imagine idea i had over the month

will i ever stop this mclaren matchmaking saga? i don’t think so

taglist: @iloveyou3000morgan @scopeiguess @gwginnyweasley @hetfieldd @sweetbabygirlsworld @wittywhispers @bingewatche @sebvettelsgirl @casperlikej @geniusalpaca @namgification @orangetreekid @

#f1 x reader #f1 #alex albon scenario #alex albon smau #alex albon one shot #alex albon imagine #alex albon x reader #alex albon

1K notes · View notes

jibunbosh · 10 months ago

Text

Mesmerizer is a satire of TikTok, YouTube Shorts, and the rest of the modern short-form vertical video format

A brief thematic analysis.

I'm sure there are countless people already interpreting the imagery and details in this wonderful song & MV, like here and here, so I won't spend too much time retreading that ground. Miku and Teto are dancing. Miku gets hypnotized. Teto signals for help, but gets hypnotized at the end as well.

That part is obvious enough, but that's still pretty surface-level. What is this seemingly hyperspatial horror scenario supposed to mean to us?

While checking to see if anyone before me's already come to the same conclusions as I did and if I should bother not writing this text post at all (lol), I came across udin's great analysis video. She comes to the conclusion that the song tackles themes of disillusionment with reality and the ways we indulge in escapism to relieve ourselves of the pains of the world.

I agree with that reading! From practically the very beginning, we have Miku call to us - the viewer - to push away our true feelings. Teto comes in to peddle a solution, inviting us to surrender and empty our minds - in her words, "pretending to know nothing."

You, the viewer, are a critical character in this masquerade. For nearly the entire video, Miku and Teto's eyes are unfailingly trained on you. Or, well... perhaps they can't actually see you, but they can see a camera, or whatever other aperture the point of view is supposed to be from. And they know they're being watched. (Who else would Teto be sending distress signals to?)

Let's put a pin on that for later.

udin notes very early on that Miku and Teto are, conspicuously, kept in vertical frames - very similar to the video formats of TikTok (and Instagram Reels, and YouTube Shorts, and whatever other clones of the format exist.) You know, just like the animator Caststation's Rabbit Hole fan MV that went viral some months ago.

Hey wouldn't it be crazy if the song's producer, 32ki, released Mesmerizer shorts too haha. Wouldn't that be crazy.

Wow, wild.

These short-term vertical videos are captivating & alluring. If you're reading this, it's more likely than not that you've also found yourself caught up in them at least once, scrolling through the infinite algorithmic slurry and forgetting about the real-life issues you have at hand. Would you say, then, that you felt hypnotized? Mesmerized, even?

And so these two invite us to join their world and focus on the... uh... rectangle.

Their dances are repetitive, following the same loop. Their outfits are distinct, but their choreography isn't. They're copying the same formula, repeating it ad nauseam to the best of their ability.

They're doing a fucking TikTok dance.

Back to the pin I told you about earlier, with Miku and Teto looking at a camera.

Miku sways with the camera, eyes looking directly at it like a swinging pocket watch. She's been looking at it the entire time, after all. We've been seeing her via our screen this entire time, but, again, she doesn't necessarily see us. She's beholden to the camera, which she dances for day after day, caught up in its spell. She's hypnotized by it. Eventually, she breaks.

Teto, on the other hand, resists. For a while, anyway.

Despite her being the one jumping to us with the "solution" at the beginning of the MV, there's very quickly good reason to question how much agency she has in this. She dances for the camera as well, but she doesn't want to. She's signalling for help. She wants out.

Many content creators (as much as I personally loathe the non-specificity and soullessness of the term) have struggled with the adaptation to the short-form video format, and the preference the algorithm has had for these captivating, bite-sized videos. They're catchy, and easily drive up metrics. Practically anyone who's publishing their work via video format online needs to learn to adapt or fall behind, even if that means whittling their content down to fit the frame, the time, and people's shortening attention spans. Sometimes, that means compromising on specificity and completeness... or, in other words, the true representation of a full work.

The song's writer, 32ki, has been releasing songs on YouTube for several years. Their first YouTube Short, however, was posted only a year ago: a short, whittled-down segment of their previous song, CIRCUS PANIC!!!, hoping for it to win the ProsekaNEXT song contest. It was their first song to achieve widespread popularity and hit a million views.

The shorts, however, aren't the "true" versions of the song. The full song just won't fit.

We're being mesmerized as consumers of this endless stream of content, rather than appreciators of music and art. However, that relationship isn't completely symmetrical across the plane that is the 4th wall. Miku and Teto are trapped not by their attention spans, but by a compulsion to project their "truthful acting" and peddle that window into a colorful, problem-free world.

We, as the collective audience, need not dwell on any one thing for too long - we need only swipe, and move on to the next video. However, Miku and Teto are trapped behind the screen for eternity, day after day.

They're the only characters we get to see, of course. There's no evil 3rd voice synth character that's plotting to keep them trapped in there. We can't put a face to whatever force is hypnotizing them and trapping them behind the screen. It's faceless - like the inscrutable algorithms of YouTube recommendations or the TikTok For You page, or the impersonal corporations that develop & maintain those aforementioned apps. Miku and Teto's likenesses, on the other hand, are being exploited and extracted from for their entertainment value, being strung along by that metaphorical hypnotizing force like puppets on a string.

Many people, represented by Miku, enjoy their success on such platforms. It's freeing and liberating to throw oneself wholeheartedly into such an endeavor, of course! Others, represented by Teto, harbor their doubts of the emotional veracity of such a medium, but know they have little choice lest they face destruction... perhaps not literally as a person, but as an idea.

Wouldn't it be easier just to let oneself be swept away by it and give in?

#mesmerizer #analysis #kasane teto #hatsune miku #vocaloid #rambles #text poast

679 notes · View notes

wosospacegirl · 14 days ago

Text

New kid thing - Arsenal teen! r

Summary: Y/n gets her period during her first day of training at Arsenal, and the girls make sure she is comfortable.

Warnings: Y/n has a small platonic crush on Leah, but nothing weird since she is just 17.

Word count: 2k

Masterlist here

Training with a new team for the first time was embarrassing enough, especially if you were a 17-year-old girl making your debut with a senior team where half the players had played in the Olympics, the World Cup, or both.

Y/n felt out of her depth—nervous and, frankly, like a child trying to fill shoes that were too big for her. She knew she had to be at least a little talented to have signed a two-year contract with the Gunners, but her nerves wouldn't let her relax.

The team immediately noticed her nervousness and was quite good at making Y/n feel welcome. After a few pleasantries from McCabe and Kyra, Y/n even smiled a little and told the girls about her history with football, and how she got into the sport. She had a nice chat with the two Arsenal girls and felt a real connection with them, probably because they were also foreigners in the country.

“It's going to be a little weird at first,” McCabe said. “A lot of new faces, a new culture, a new way of training and playing, but don’t worry, you'll fit right in.” The Irish sat down besides Y/n and patted her on the back.

“Yeah, and if you need someone to talk to, or want to wind out and maybe go for a walk to get to know London you can call me,” Kyre smiled. “Besides, all these old women have no idea about the cool places in London, I know a few places and would be happy to take you.

“Wow, are you calling us old and lame?” McCabe argued

The two girls began to argue as Y/n laughed and giggled.

The rest of the day went smoothly, much to Y/n's surprise. She met many of the staff and was pleased to learn that Arsenal had a team of psychologists, gynecologists and even psychiatrists. Professional players know how hard it is to find a medical specialty that also understands the toll that sport can take on the body, and how some treatments work for non-footballers but don't for footballers, especially because of inadvertent doping caused by convenient medicine and all that.

The team was doing some cool-down stretches while listening to country music - it was Leah's day to choose the music played during training - and Y/n was humming along to some of the songs she knew. Suddenly the 17-year-old felt a familiar pain in her stomach.

Fuck no, not now, Y/ n thought to herself. She couldn't be having her period right now. It was her first day on a professional team, she was wearing white shorts and everyone was there, chatting away in a semicircle, even captain Leah Williamson, who Y/n had been fangirling since she was 13-years-old.

Y/n was well aware that periods were normal, and that they happened to every single woman on the team, but she was still embarrassed about it. Would they think she was immature? Not having the fucking capacity to pack at least one pad or tampon in her training bag?

Ok, maybe she was being too hard on herself.

Y/n just needed the older girls to finish their cooldown first, so she could be the last to leave the gym.

Five minutes passed. Then 10, and then 15… All the girls were still stretching their legs and thighs. Y/n looked around, trying to come up with another escape plan as the Arsenal women seemed to be enjoying their stretching time a little too much.

“You ok, Y/n?” Leah asked, catching Y/n off guard. It wasn’t that the captain was unwelcoming or anything, but Leah hadn’t really talked to her besides the classic greetings. Y/n remembered watching an interview where Leah said she was a bit more reserved with new people, and that she needed time to warm up, so she wasn’t very bummed about that.

“Oh, yeah, very much ok… yeah!” Y/n lied, and it was a very bad lie because none of the girls believed it, they just looked at her instead.

“It’s ok to be nervous, Y/n,” Lessie said, patting Y/n’s arm. “Everyone here was new at first, except Leah who’s been here since she was a kid,” Lessie joked cheekily, looking at the captain. “I know you’ll feel more at home in no time.”

Lessie was a real sweetie, trying to make Y/n feel welcome, little did she know that the whole new kid thing had moved way down the list of her problems today.

“Thank you, Lessie. It will get easier in the next few days.” Y/n smiled. Thank God the girls haven’t known her yet, because they would have been able to tell right away how much of a fake smile Y/n was putting on.

The 17-year-old shifted her position, stretching her arm and trying not to move too much, afraid that the blood would stainfic her kit. Well, who she was kidding, judging by her flow it was safe to say that her bottom and the middle of her tights were a war zone right now.

She just needed to wait a few more minutes and then the players would all be gone and the girl would be able to take a shower in the changing room, then take a cap home, put a pad on, and clean her kit as if nothing happened.

Just a few more minutes and no one would know.

One by one the girls got up and went to the changing room to get ready to go home. Y/n prayed that they would take their showers at home and not in the changing room, that way they would go home faster and Y/n would be able to get the situation under control.

McCabe and Foord were the last ones to get up from the floor. “Are you coming, Y/n?” The Matilda asked, smiling.

“Yeah, right behind you,” Y/n said with fake enthusiasm.

When the two older women entered the changing room Y/n waited for a few minutes. Y/n stood up very carefully, scared to look at the floor and find a pool of her period blood, luckily the floor was spotless.

“Ok, that was close, I just need to—”

“Oh kid, I think you got your period!”

No, no, no, no.

Y/n froze.

The voice Y/n heard came from behind her back, it belonged to Leah. The young girl was mortified, Leah could very well see the stain of blood in her clothes.

Fuck, getting your period unexpectedly was very embarrassing, but to have Leah Williamson, team captain, and lioness captain, the woman who you had a very innocent crush on (who wouldn't? come on), tell you you had period was even worse, Y/n thought to herself, still trying to find the courage to face the captain.

Y/n felt a warm hand on her shoulder. “I’ve got some tampons if you need them, They’re in my locker, c’mon, I’ll give you some, ok?” Leah said, her voice soft now as if she knew the girl was embarrassed.

Y/n turned around, her cheeks warm with embarrassment. “I-I didn’t know I was getting my period today,” Y/n said, avoiding making eye contact with Leah.

“It’s alright, stuff like that happens all the time, especially here,” Leah said, putting her arm around the young girl’s shoulder and leading her to the changing room. “We are a team of what? 30 women, we just learn to work around periods, and cramps and all that, that’s why we have a gynaecologist.”

Y/n remained silent, looking at the floor and wishing a double-decker bus would kill her right now.

They got into the locker room, half the girls were still in there.

Yeah, I’m definitely throwing myself in front of the first car that drives by, there is no way that this is my first day and I’m already making a fool of myself. Y/n thought as she sat in front of Leah's locker after grabbing her jacket and tying it around her waist. The others didn’t need to see the mess in her training shorts too.

The captain was very calm, whistling Sweet Carolina as she opened a toiletry bag. It looked like she was very used to these types of situations. Y/n wondered if Leah had gone through this t with any of the other girls on the team before.

“What size do you usually use?” Leah asked bluntly, clearly not trying to be subtle about it. Yeah, maybe she was a bit too comfortable with this topic. “I only have like, super plus,” Leah said, showing you a lilac packed with tampons in it.

“Hm, I normally just have regulars or smalls,” Y/n said hesitantly. “But these are ok, thank you.” They were not ok, Y/n looked at the tampons and knew they wouldn't fit comfortably.

Y/n was never a tampon girl, she always thought pads were more comfortable, she only used tampons on match days or during hard training sessions.

Y/n reached out d to take the pack of tampons from Leah’s hand, but before she could do that Leah shouted to the other side of the changing room. “Hey, Kyra, Less, have either of you got smaller tampons? Y/n needs some.”

“No! It’s alright, please, I don’t want to be a both–”

“I’ve got some,” Less said, smiling af if she was very happy to help. “Here Y/n, these are regulars, but I also have a small one too if you need it.” The blonde handed Y/n a blue box, which the young girl took.

“Thank you, you both,” Y/n said sincerely.

“Is that why you were a bit sad during the cool-down?” Less asked

“Hm, yeah, I just was - well, I am a bit embarrassed and all that, I know periods are normal and blah blah blah, but I’m just a little uncomfortable about it.” You confess, looking at Leah and Less.

“Periods are hard to talk about because people think we should be ashamed,,” Beth said Y/n hadn’t even noticed the lioness was in the changing room. “You're gonna get used to it, you are just a teen, when you grow old you’ll just realize it’s a part of you.”

Y/n smiled, feeling more at ease. Maybe she wouldn't throw herself into traffic after all” :)

“This conversation reminds me of when I got my first period, I was so embarrassed,” Leah said, holding the bridge of her nose. “I was 14 training on the pitch with the Arsenal youth team when the head coach blew the whistle and asked very loudly if I had gotten hurt because there was blood running down my leg.”

“I just put the ball down and ran to the locker room,” Leah said laughing. “Then Maureen, the assistant coach, came down to talk to me and handed me these big pads and asked me if It was my first period.”

“Oh my first period was during the Matildas Under 15 tournament,” Kyra said. “I had just turned 14, but my mum made me carry a bag of tampons and stuff like that everywhere, so the first time it happened I just went to the toilet and told my friends about it.

Then every girl shared some funny, and not so funny period story, which made Y/n feel calmer.

Y/n would get along with the Gunners, she knew it.

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