#Tall!reader

[drowsyapple]

Where the Sun Meets the Sky

Pairing: Caleb x Non!mc reader

Tags: University AU, tall/POC!reader, fratboy!Caleb, friends to lovers

Synopsis: After a crushing loss, your ride-or-die Caleb shows up with snacks, stats help, and way too much info about your life. Now he's making you go to his frat formal. Is he just being your overprotective childhood friend... or is there something he's not telling you?

(Yes. The answer is yes.)

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: This chapter is pretty tame, but there are hints of protective/possessive behavior, mild stalking vibes, and academic stress

Author's Note: I'm not a writer, I just like to write :) the reader is a taller tomboy girly who loves basketball and hates stats class... I plan on making this a multi-chapter fic (might already have the next chapter mostly done) so let me know if y'all want more :D enjoy!

Tag List: @rcvcgers @seasal-t

Comment if you'd like to be added to the tag list :)

The gymnasium was a cacophony of sound—squeaking sneakers, the rhythmic bounce of basketballs, and the occasional shout from Coach Jenna. The chill of the fall air seeped through the cracks in the old building, making you shiver as you wiped sweat from your brow. Your dark brown curls, most of it slicked back into your signature ponytail, clung to your forehead in damp tendrils, a few rebellious strands escaping to frame your freckled face. Your hazel eyes, sharp with focus, scanned the court as you sprinted down the hardwood, your 5’10” frame moving with the kind of fluid precision that came from years of training.

The Linkon University basketball jersey, number 25, hung loosely over your athletic build, the fabric darkened with sweat. Your skin, kissed with melanin, glistened under the harsh gym lights, and the faint dusting of freckles across your nose and cheeks gave you a youthful, determined look. The sound of your sneakers squeaking against the floor echoed as you pivoted, your ponytail swinging behind you, as you gave it your all on the court.

“Hustle, ladies! This isn’t a tea party!” Coach Jenna barked, her voice cutting through the noise. She stood on the sidelines, her clipboard clutched tightly in one hand, her sharp eyes missing nothing. 

Your teammate, Simone, shot you a grin as you ran side by side, her dark braids swinging with each stride. The squeak of sneakers against the polished hardwood floor echoed through the gym, blending with the sharp whistle of Coach Jenna. “Coach is on one today,” Simone panted. 

“When is she not?” you shot back, your voice strained but laced with humor. You dodged around a cone, your legs burning as you pushed through the drill. The chill of the air made your breath visible in short, quick puffs. 

The scrimmage against Skyhaven University had ended with a narrow loss, the opposing team’s star center sinking a buzzer-beater three-pointer that left your team groaning in frustration. As punishment for the loss, your coach had you doing line drills for each point difference and shot missed. Your muscles screamed with every sprint, every pivot, every jump, but you pushed through, determined to not fall behind your team. 

After what felt like an eternity, you slumped onto the bench, your chest heaving as you chugged from your water bottle. The cool liquid was a relief, but it did little to ease the ache settling into your muscles, a familiar reminder of the grind. Simone settled down next to you, her face flushed and her two french braids damp with sweat. She quickly gathered her things, her movements efficient despite her fatigue. You wondered how she still had the energy to move so fast.

“I’m heading back to the bus first,” she said, slinging her duffel bag over her shoulder before glancing over. “Do you want me to save you a seat?” 

Simone was your best friend on the basketball team, and as fellow freshmen, you’d formed a bond that went beyond the court. She was the first person to welcome you to the team, and her relentless optimism and dry sense of humor had gotten you through more than one grueling practice. You appreciated the camaraderie between you two and the unspoken understanding that you were both doing all you could to climb the team’s ladder. 

“Yeah, that’d be great,” you said between breaths and sips of water. “See you in a bit.” 

Simone nodded. “Don’t take too long. You know how Coach gets if we’re late.” 

You watched as she walked away, her braids swaying with each step. The gym was quieter now, the rest of the team already heading to the bus or packing up their gear. You took a moment to catch your breath, your eyes scanning the empty court. The polished floor reflected the overhead lights, and the faint scent of sweat and sports drinks lingered in the air. 

As you sat there, the weight of the loss settled over you. It wasn’t just the score, it was the missed opportunities, the shots you could’ve made, the passes you could’ve intercepted. You clenched your fists, the frustration bubbling up, but you pushed it down. There’d be time to analyze the game later, to figure out what went wrong and how to fix it. For now, you just needed to get through the ride back to campus and the inevitable scolding from Coach. 

As the team continued to file out of the gym in groups of two or three, you lingered behind, taking time to stuff your gear into your duffel bag. Your muscles screamed with every motion you made accompanied by the sound of your growling stomach. The sound of the gym doors on the opposite end of the building creaking open drew your attention, and you glanced up to see Caleb leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed and a slight smirk playing on his lips. 

Caleb was impossible to miss. At 6’2”, he towered over most people, his broad shoulders and athletic build a testament to his dual life as a star basketball player and an aspiring pilot, currently majoring in aerospace engineering. His dark brown hair was tousled, falling slightly into his striking purple eyes, which gleamed with amusement under the fluorescent lights. He was dressed casually in a black hoodie and jeans, his orange and black flying jacket slung over one arm. The jacket was worn but well-loved, a fond memory from his high school days, and it suited him perfectly. 

“Tough loss, pips,” he said, his voice warm but teasing. 

You rolled your eyes, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you stood up, ignoring your protesting knees. “Don’t remind me. What are you doing here, anyway? I remember telling you I was riding back with the team.” 

Caleb pushed off the doorframe and stepped inside, his boots clicking against the floor as he walked to meet you halfway. “I already talked to Coach. Told her I’d give you a ride.” He said shooting a quick wave to your Coach, and she, distracted by the notes on her clipboard, returned the gesture. Since when did they get so close?

You groaned at that, dragging a hand down your sweaty face. “Caleb, I don’t need a babysitter. I’m perfectly capable of taking the bus.” 

“And miss the chance to spend quality time with your favorite person? Not a chance,” he said, his smirk widening. He reached out and ruffled your damp hair, earning a swat from you. 

You muttered under your breath while slipping on your favorite hoodie, and followed him out to the parking lot where his beat-up pickup truck waited. The truck was a relic from high school. You and Caleb had found it abandoned in the neighborhood junkyard, its red paint faded and speckled with rust, but Caleb said it had character and fixed it up in no time. The man has always had a way with tools, yet you struggled using something as simple as a toaster. You climbed into the passenger seat, tossing your bag into the back, and noticed a small paper bag on the dashboard and a large Diet Coke waiting for you in one of the cupholders. The cup was filled to the brim with the crunchy, nugget ice you loved. 

“After-game snack,” Caleb said as he slid into the driver’s seat. “Figured you’d be starvin’.” 

You raised an eyebrow but couldn’t hide the smile creeping on your face. “You’re such a dork.” He always knew exactly what you needed, even without asking.

“Your dork,” he corrected while starting the engine, which earned a snort from you. The truck rumbled to life, and you two pulled out of the parking lot. 

As your childhood best friend drove, you leaned back in your seat, sipping your drink and nibbling on the peanut butter protein bar that was in the paper bag. The conversation flowed easily, as it always did with him. You talked about the scrimmage, taking this chance to vent about the missed shots and the opposing team’s star player. 

“You’ll get ‘em next time,” Caleb said, his tone encouraging. “You’re a shoo-in for a starter spot next year. Hell, you might even be captain one day, just like me.” 

You snorted. “Don’t let it go to your head, Mr. Valedictorian.” 

Caleb’s expression softened. “Please let that go,” he chuckled. “High school was ages ago, and I’m already a Junior. Seriously, though. You’re killin’ it out there. Just don’t forget to take care of yourself, okay?” 

As you opened your mouth to respond, your phone buzzed, interrupting the moment. You pull it out of your pocket to see a text from your roommate, 

Tara: Have you seen the back of my earring??? I’ve looked everywhere!

You sighed, typing out a quick reply of nope before tossing your phone onto the dashboard. “Roommate again,” you muttered. 

Caleb glanced at you briefly, his brow furrowing slightly. “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, just… Tara’s a mess. I swear, I spend more time cleaning up after her than I do studying.” 

Caleb’s jaw tightened a bit, but he didn’t press. Instead, he changed the subject. “You wanna come over for dinner? I made your favorite.” 

You hesitated, the idea tempting. “I really should study. My stats class is kicking my ass, and if I don’t pull my grade up, I’m gonna lose my scholarship.” 

Caleb drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, thinking. “How about this? You come over, we eat, and I’ll help you with your stats homework. I TA’d for Professor Lucius last year, so I know his style.” 

You opened your mouth to refuse, but Caleb flashed you his signature puppy-dog look. Wide eyes, slightly pouted lips, the whole nine yards. You groaned, throwing your hands up in defeat. “Fine… but only because I’m starving.” 

Caleb’s triumphant grin was almost too much to bear. Suddenly, a thought flickered in the back of your mind. 

Did you ever tell Caleb you had Professor Lucius this semester? 

The cold sweat of the cup bit into your palm as you searched your memory. No, you definitely hadn't told him. Between basketball drills and Tara's latest crisis, you'd barely registered the mid-semester professor switch yourself until the first confusing lecture. Yet Caleb had said Lucius' name like it was common knowledge, the same way he always seemed to know your schedule before you did, your coffee order before you spoke it, and when you'd need him before you knew you needed him yourself.

The realization prickled at you—you’d never told Caleb about Professor Lucius. Struggles with statistics, yes, but not who taught it. Not when six other instructors were teaching it this semester. Yet he’d known. Like he always knew.

Still, it wasn’t like Caleb to get details wrong. He was meticulous, almost annoyingly so. Always remembering the smallest things about your schedule, your preferences, and your life.  

You shook your head, brushing the thought aside. 

It’s nothing. Probably just said it in passing and forgot. 

You removed the lid of your cup and took a long sip of your drink, the satisfying crunch of the nugget ice between your teeth pulling you back to the present. The familiar sensation was comforting.

You glanced outside the truck window, the campus of Linkon University beginning to roll by in a blur of autumn colors. The trees lining the pathways were ablaze with gold and crimson, their leaves fluttering to the ground in the crisp fall breeze contrasting the setting sun. Students bundled in scarves and jackets hurried to and from classes, their laughter and chatter faintly carrying through the glass. The clock tower loomed in the distance, its hands inching toward evening, and the faint scent of woodsmoke from a nearby bonfire drifted through the air. 

You leaned your head against the cool window, letting the rhythm of the road and the hum of the truck’s engine lull you into a sense of calm. Caleb’s playlist, a mix of classic rock and indie tracks he’d curated over the years, played softly in the background. He was humming along under his breath, his fingers tapping the steering wheel in time with the beat. 

You tore your eyes away from the passing scenery and glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. His profile was sharp against the fading light, his jawline strong and his amethyst eyes focused on the road. There was a quiet intensity about him, a steadiness that had always been there, even when you were kids. He was the kind of person who made you feel safe, even when you didn’t want to admit you needed it. 

But there was something else there too, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. A tension in the way he held himself, a flicker of something in his eyes when he thought you weren’t looking. You’d noticed it more and more lately ever since you started college, though you couldn’t explain why. 

“You okay over there?” Caleb’s voice broke through your thoughts, his tone light but with an undercurrent of concern. 

You blinked, pulling yourself back to the present. “Yeah, just…thinking.” 

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk returning. “Dangerous habit.” 

You rolled your eyes, “Says the guy who overthinks everything.” 

Caleb laughed, the sound warm and familiar. “Guilty as charged.” 

The conversation lulled again, but the silence between you was comfortable, simple. You turned your attention back to the window, watching as the campus gave way to the quieter streets of the neighboring residential neighborhood. The houses here were old but charming, their porches decorated with pumpkins and fairy lights. A group of kids played in a leaf pile on the sidewalk, their laughter ringing out like chiming bells. 

You took another sip of your drink, the ice clinking softly against the sides of the cup. The thought from earlier nagged at you again, but you pushed it aside. 

It’s Caleb. He probably just heard it from someone else. 

You always have been the forgetful type, forgetting even your birthday one year.

Still, as the truck pulled up to his apartment building, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it than that. But for now, you decided to let it go. There were more pressing things to worry about, like surviving stats class and figuring out how to deal with Tara’s latest disaster. 

🍎🍎🍎

Caleb’s studio apartment was small but cozy, a reflection of his no-frills personality. The brick accent wall gave the space a rustic charm, its rough texture softened by the warm glow of a single floor lamp. The room was dominated by a worn leather couch, its cushions dented from years of use from its previous owner, and a slightly cluttered coffee table stacked with textbooks, a half-empty coffee mug, and a pair of aviator sunglasses. A small kitchenette sat in the corner, its countertops surprisingly tidy except for a single pan soaking in the sink. 

Photos of you and Caleb lined the walls, a timeline of your shared history. There was the one from your 12th birthday, where he’d surprised you with a basketball cake and a goofy party hat. Another from last year’s New Year’s Eve, the two of you bundled up in scarves, your cheeks flushed from the cold and the sparklers in your hands leaving trails of light in the dark. New Year’s Eve had always been yours—the two of you pressed shoulder-to-shoulder in a crowd or curled on a couch, watching the clock tick toward midnight with the same quiet certainty as the years turning over. No matter what chaos the year had brought, that moment always belonged to you both.

And then the candid shots, Caleb ruffling your hair after a game in middle school, you laughing as he tried to teach you how to cook (and failed miserably). Then there was a photo of you two during your high school graduation just half a year ago; you were clutching your diploma, and Caleb’s arm hung loosely over your shoulders, smiling bright. Each photo was a snapshot of a moment frozen in time, a reminder of how intertwined your lives had always been. And behind each photo was your adoptive grandmother, Josephine, always eager to capture the moments of her kids with her clunky camera.

You walked in and turned to the used couch. A deep red throw blanket was draped over its back, the vibrant hue a stark contrast to the muted grays and browns of the room. You flop down after dropping your bags to the side of the couch, stretching out horizontally and scrolling through your phone, your feet hanging over the edge. The leather creaked under your weight, and the faint scent of Caleb’s cologne, something woodsy and warm, lingered in the air. 

Caleb disappeared into the kitchen, humming along to the classic rock playlist he’d put on. The opening chords of a familiar song filled the room, Over the Hills and Far Away by Led Zeppelin, and you couldn’t help but smile. It was one of his favorites, a track he’d played on repeat during road trips back in high school. 

“Seriously, Caleb,” you called out, raising your voice over the music, “how do you still listen to this stuff? It’s so old.” 

“It’s timeless,” he shot back, his voice carrying over the sizzle of the stove and the hum of the microwave. “You’ll appreciate it when you’re older.” 

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “If you say so.” 

You set your phone down on the coffee table and headed to the bathroom, leaving it behind. When you returned, Caleb was setting two plates of braised chicken wings on the table along with two cups of microwavable instant rice. The rich, savory aroma made your stomach growl, and you couldn’t help but feel a rush of gratitude. He’d remembered your favorite dish, just like he always did. 

As you ate, the conversation flowed effortlessly, shifting from sports to classes to Caleb’s latest escapades with his frat brothers. He leaned back in his chair, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he launched into the story. “So, last weekend, we decided to build a homemade drone,” he began, his eyes lighting up with the kind of energy that always came with his wilder ideas. “You know, just a little weekend project. What could go wrong, right?”

You raised an eyebrow, already sensing where this was going. “Famous last words, Caleb. What happened?” You asked as you took another bite of your favorite dish, a slight note of ginger hitting the back of your throat.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, we got it all put together, or at least, we thought we did. But when we fired it up, the thing shot straight into the air, spun in a circle, and then nosedived right into the grill!” He exclaimed waving his hands around. “Next thing we know, the propane tank’s hissin’, and the backyard’s basically a fire hazard.”

You burst out laughing, nearly choking on your food. “You’re kidding me! Did you at least get it on video?”

“Oh, we got it on video,” he said, pulling out his phone and scrolling through his camera roll. He handed it to you, and you watched as the drone spiraled out of control, followed by a chorus of panicked shouts and the unmistakable sound of something catching fire. You were laughing so hard your sides hurt, and Caleb joined in, his laugh filling the room.

“I can’t believe you guys didn’t get kicked out of the house,” you said, wiping tears from your eyes.

“Oh, we almost did,” he admitted, still grinning. “But, you know, we cleaned it up. Mostly. And no one got hurt, so… win?”

“Barely,” you teased, shaking your head. “You’re lucky you’re still alive.”

The lighthearted banter continued, the tension from the scrimmage slowly melting away. It was easy, comfortable, the way it always was with Caleb. He had a way of making everything feel less serious, less overwhelming. For a little while, you forgot about the game, about the pressure, about everything except the sound of his laughter and the warmth of the moment.

But once you cleared your plate and pulled out your stats homework, the mood shifted as reality sank in once again. You groaned, staring at the equations like they were written in another language. The numbers and symbols blurred together, and you felt that familiar knot of frustration tightening in your chest.

Caleb noticed immediately, his grin fading as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his legs. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his tone softer now.

“It’s this stupid stats homework,” you muttered, shoving the paper away from you. “I don’t get it. None of it makes sense. I’ve been staring at it for hours these past couple of days, and it’s like my brain just shuts down. Why do I need to know this? I’m a basketball player, not a mathematician.” 

Caleb chuckled, leaning over to look at your notes. His arm brushed against yours, and you caught a whiff of his cologne again, distracting you slightly. He tilted his head, studying you for a moment. “You’re overthinkin’ it,” he said simply with a small smile.

“Easy for you to say,” you retorted. “You’re, like, a wannabe math genius or something.”

He laughed at that, shaking his head. “I’m no genius. I just don’t freak out about it like you do.” He reached over, pulling the paper toward him and scanning the problems. “Okay, look. This one’s not that bad. You’re just makin’ it harder than it needs to be.”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “Yeah, well, that’s my specialty.”

He smirked, glancing up at you. “True. But lucky for you, you’ve got me.” He grabbed the pen you were holding and started scribbling notes in the margins, explaining each step in a way that actually made sense. You watched him, the frustration slowly easing as his calm, steady voice broke through the mental block you’d been hitting.

“See?” he said after a few minutes, sliding the paper and pen back to you. “Not so bad, right?”

You looked down at the page, the numbers suddenly less intimidating. “Okay, maybe you’re a little bit of a genius,” you admitted, a small smile tugging at your lips.

He leaned back, looking far too pleased with himself. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” you said, rolling your eyes, but you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. “Thanks, though. Seriously.”

“Anytime,” he said, his tone light but sincere. “You know I’ve got your back.”

And you did know. That was the thing about Caleb. No matter how chaotic or ridiculous things got, he always had a way of making you feel like everything would be okay. Even when the numbers didn’t add up and the world felt like it was spinning too fast, he was there, steady and sure, reminding you that you weren’t alone.

He walked you through a few more of the problems, his voice calm and patient as he explained each step. But your eyes drifted to your phone, which buzzed incessantly with texts from Tara. The screen continuously lit up from where it was placed on the edge table, and you couldn’t resist glancing at it. Huh, did you set it all the way over there before you headed to the bathroom?

“What’s so important?” Caleb asked, interrupting your thought, his tone light but with an edge of curiosity. 

“Nothing,” you said, shoving your phone into your pocket. “Just Tara being Tara.” 

Caleb raised an eyebrow but didn’t press. Instead, he reached over and plucked the phone from your pocket and proceeded to stand as tall as he could, holding it above his head. 

“Hey!” you protested, standing up and reaching for it. But Caleb was a few inches taller, and you couldn’t quite reach. 

“You said you’d focus,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“Caleb, give it back!” you demanded, jumping in vain. 

He laughed, but there was a hint of sadness in his expression. “You know, it’s hard to compete with your phone for your attention.” 

You stopped jumping, your frustration melting into a tinge of guilt. The look in his eyes—part amusement, part something deeper—caught you off guard. “I’m sorry,” you groaned with a slight eye roll. “How could I ever make it up to you.” 

Caleb’s smirk returned, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Oh?” 

You hesitated, then sighed, having an idea of where this conversation was headed. “What do you want?” 

Caleb’s eyes lit up, and you knew you’d walked right into his trap. “Come to the frat formal with me. Tomorrow night.” 

You huffed, but there was no way out. This was the grave you dug and now it was time to lie in it. He had been bugging you about his frat’s autumn formal for weeks. “Fine. But you owe me.” 

Caleb’s triumphant grin was worth it, even as you mentally prepared yourself for the chaos of a frat party, grimacing at the thought of dressing in clothes other than your trusty knee-length basketball shorts, hoodies, and sneakers. 

🍎🍎🍎

The ride back to your dorm was short, the silence between you and Caleb comfortable. The truck’s engine hummed softly, and the faint glow of streetlights flickered across Caleb’s face as he drove. His hands rested lightly on the steering wheel, his fingers tapping in time once again with the song playing on the radio. You glanced at him, noting the way his jaw tightened slightly whenever your on-campus dorm came into view. He hated this place, your co-ed dorm, and he didn’t bother hiding it. 

When you arrived, Caleb parked the truck and walked you to the door, his hands stuffed in his pockets. The cool night air nipped at your cheeks, and you pulled the hood of your hoodie tighter around your head. The dorm building loomed ahead, its windows glowing with warm light, and the faint sound of laughter and music spilled out from the common room. 

“Thanks for the ride,” you said, turning to face him. 

Caleb’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, he just looked at you, his expression unreadable. Then he smiled, that familiar, easy grin that always made your stomach flutter, which you promptly ignored. “Anytime, pipsqueak,” he replied as he placed his hand on your covered head, his voice soft. 

You turned to the entrance while reaching for your key card, swiping it swiftly to unlock the door with a soft click. The sound was barely audible over the hum of the dorm’s hallway, but it felt loud in the quiet space between you and Caleb. You opened the door but held it open with your foot. Pausing, you turned to him with an eyebrow raised. “Y’know, can you quit it with that silly nickname already?” you protested, though there was no real bite to your words. “I’m hardly small, and I could easily destroy you in a 1v1 any day.”

Caleb’s grin widened, that familiar, infuriating smirk that made your stomach do a little flip, which you ignored once again. For a split second, you thought he might say something…something real, something that would explain the way he’d been looking at you all night, like you were the only person in the world. But instead, he just chuckled, reaching out to ruffle your hair under your hoodie like you were still the scrawny kid he’d met all those years ago. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, his voice light but with a hint of something you couldn’t quite place. 

You rolled your eyes, brushing his hand away, but the warmth of his touch lingered. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, turning to head inside. 

As the door began to close behind you, you caught a glimpse of him still standing there, his hands back in his pockets and his smile fading. His purple eyes lingered on you, intense and unreadable, and for a moment, it felt like the air between you was charged with something unspoken. But before you could say anything, before you could even process what you were feeling, the windowless door clicked shut, leaving you alone in the dimly lit hallway, the sound of the common room drowning out as it became overpowered by your thoughts. 

You leaned against the door for a moment, your heart racing for reasons you couldn’t quite explain. Caleb was always like this. Teasing, protective, and just a little bit maddening. But tonight, it felt different. Like there was something he wasn’t saying, something he was holding back. 

Shaking your head, you pushed off the door and headed down the hall towards your shared dorm, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the space. Whatever it was, you’d figure it out later. For now, you had a roommate to deal with and a mountain of homework waiting for you. 

🍎🍎🍎

The dorm was a disaster when you walked in. Clothes were strewn across the living room, empty takeout containers littered the coffee table, and a half-finished puzzle sat abandoned on the floor. Tara was kneeling in the middle of the chaos, her dark hair a wild mess as she dug through a pile of laundry. 

“What’s going on?” you asked, dropping your bag by the door. 

Tara looked up, her eyes wide with desperation. “What took you so long?! I still can’t find the back of my earring! Please help!” 

You sighed but knelt down to help, shoving aside a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt that definitely wasn’t either of yours. Tara had always been like this, chaotic, scatterbrained, but endearing. You’d met her during orientation, when she’d accidentally spilled her iced coffee all over your shoes and then insisted on buying you a new pair. You’d been inseparable ever since, even if her messiness drove you up the wall. 

As you searched, Tara began peppering you with questions about your evening. “So, I figure you were with Caleb, huh?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows at you. 

“Don’t start,” you warned, but Tara just laughed and returned to digging through the pile of clothes in front of her. You continued, “I have to go to that stupid frat formal with him now just as I started to think I was in the clear. As if I don’t have anything better to do than put on a dress and be surrounded by drunks. Coach doesn’t even let us drink! What the hell am I supposed to do all night sober?” 

“Oh come on. His frat holds, like, the most exclusive party of the year. You’re so lucky!” 

You groaned, shoving a pile of socks aside. “You can take my place if you want.” 

Tara shook her head, her loose curls bouncing. “Nope. I’ve got plans with that guy from my bio class.” You said a small ah under your breath nodding. You never understood Tara’s extensive roster and never bothered asking for specifics. She was with a new guy what seemed like every other week.

You finally spotted the earring back under the coffee table and handed it to Tara, who squealed in delight. 

“You’re the best!” she said, pulling you into a hug before retreating to her room. 

You did the same, tossing your phone onto the bed, and almost like magic, it lit up with a notification from Caleb: 

Sleep well, pips. Don’t let Tara or your floor mates keep you up :) 

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a small smile. Caleb had always been like this, a protective older brother figure in your life. He hated your co-ed dorm, and he made no secret of it. 

“It’s not safe,” he’d said when you first moved in, his arms crossed and his jaw set. “You should’ve taken the single dorm I found for you.” 

But you’d refused, partly because you didn’t want to feel like you owed him anything and partly because you liked the idea of chaos that came with living on the same floor with a bunch of noisy dudes. It reminded you that you were finally on your own, making your own decisions, even if those decisions drove Caleb a little crazy. 

You threw off your shoes and plopped into bed, still wearing your outside clothes. As you laid there, staring at the ceiling and debating a shower, your thoughts drifted back to him. His teasing smile, the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, the way he always seemed to know what you needed before you did. He was infuriating, endearing, and entirely too much. But he was your childhood best friend, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Still, there was a part of you that wondered, what would happen if you let him in completely? If you stopped pretending you didn’t notice the way his gaze lingered on you, or the way his voice softened when he said your name? 

You shook your head, pushing the thought aside. For now, this was enough. 

[deadghosy]

Slytherin boys react to you being taller than them in heels

Requested by @daddiesgone

Tom Riddle

Honestly doesn’t care at all.

He still holds power, he has that aura.

AN AURA OF AN ALPHAAA *cough cough* sorry. But yeah he think you look lovely in heels

No matter how tall you are that intimidates people. He has the scary presence 

Mattheo Riddle

Probably says “I’ll climb that tree!” 😭

Either way, he finds you hot asf since you are taller than him

He digs it a lot honestly

Literally brags at how you could be in the WNBA 😭

Draco Malfoy

I feel like he would be slight insecure at how much more taller you are than him in heels

He soon gets over it, don’t worry he won’t verbal or physically put you down.

He would just muster some courage of his own and be out with you in public in pride

Like a true malfoy

Theodore Nott

Honestly he thinks you two are two a W tall couple

Honestly finds you hella more attractive in heels.

Would literally point to you and be like “yeah my gf is a goddess..what about yours?”

He’s literally so petty and funny

Lorenzo Berkshire

A little overwhelmed since you were taller than him already without heels

But that doesn’t change the fact he still loves you though!

He loves his tall princess

Probably goes heel shopping with you more

[anonimusunnoaniswriting]

Can I request Orc Nanami x reader smut? Nanami is desperate to mate with the reader, and tries to avoid her through the day. Professional of course. Unfortunately, he can’t and when the reader corners him in his office at the end of the day he explains the situation. The reader helps him although they’re quite loud. And Nanami tries to be gentle.

Anon, I hope I did your idea justice! It's a little different but I hope I was able to bring it to life!

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑵𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝑻𝒐 𝑭𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒀𝒐𝒖 (𝑶𝒓𝒄!𝑵𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒙𝑻𝒂𝒍𝒍!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

Warnings: semi-public, p in v, office sex.

You had one leg propped onto the table, the other carelessly hung over its edge. Your skirt was bunched up around your waist and held there by your lover's massive body.

The same orc had his head buried in the crook of your neck as he sucked lazily on the delicate skin. There would be a new bruise there the next morning. You were sure of it. All the while Nanami’s hips fucked into your pussy roughly.

“Nanami-oh—” his cock thrust up into you, cutting you off. You tried again. “Nanami, someone could see us.”

“Darling, I– need you– the whole day—” your orc rasped. The pace he had found picked up ever so slightly and you felt split open on him. A large hand sneaked under your blouse pawing at your breast.

“Oh- Nanami. You might as well take my blouse off at this rate. And your shirt while you're at it.”

It had been the fault of this very blouse and skirt – Nanami knew – that he had sunk so low. Looking was one thing. A gentle pat on your bum too would not have made his ears so pink. But the way your breasts bounced under the lavender blouse he picked for you that day had his eyes glued to your form. It definitely didn't help him to see you bend down to pick up some scattered papers. And look back up to see him staring at your ass in the tight white skirt, slack jawed. You had offered him a bright smile and gone on your way while Nanami spent the remainder of the day hunched behind his desk, lest anyone see his rock hard boner. It was painful too. Finally, unable to take it anymore, he'd called for you under the pretext of bringing him some file or the other. No sooner had you entered the room, than he had you pulled into him, grinding his hips against your soft tummy.

It did not take long for you to be lifted onto his desk amidst a scattering of “please” and “need yous”. Sloppy kisses were laid against your lips, dripping down to your jaw, then your shoulder. Nanami’s cock prodded against your thigh and you reached down to relieve it for him. It sprang out into your waiting hand making the man hiss against your skin. His teeth nipped at your collarbone causing you to cry out softly, still aware that the door was unlocked and anyone could have walked in.

“Nanami. We'll be caught!” Your whisper was met by deaf ears.

“Let me put it in? Please? Been dreaming of feeling that tight little pussy around me all day. Please baby.” Nanami lifted his head. Heavy lids opened to look up at you teasingly and his pink lips, parted ever so slightly by his large tusks. Your head nodded…

So now here you were; hoisted onto a desk, as your loving orc fucked you chasing a release he had longed for since the starting of his day.

“Look at me.” Nanami tucked a finger under your chin lifting your head. Your eyes met his.

He slipped his thumb between your glossy lips.

“Suck.”

You wrapped your lips around the digit, tongue lain flat against it and did exactly that. By now it had become almost second nature to you. Nanami could feel it flicking up and down against his skin and couldn't stop himself from remembering how you did that to his cock every time.

Nanami grunted. His cock twitched inside you, “Almost,”

You reached out a hand to grasp at his arm, looking him in the eye, as you pulled it out of your mouth with a pop.

“Cum in me then,” you softly moaned.

The little trigger of your voice was all it took. Nanami spilled inside your warmth with a loud grunt, panting heavily.

He pulled out slowly wincing. “Do you have anything that can't wait till tomorrow?”

You shook your head.

“Good. I'll meet you at the car.”

[moonstruckme]

OK TALL!READER REQUEST W POLY!MARAUDERS SO MAYBE JUST SOME DOMESTIC FLUFF W READER TEASING THE BOYS ABOUT THEIR HEIGHTS AND STUFF? OR MAYBE LIKE SIRIUS AND READER BEING LIKE A CHAOTIC SHORT-TALL DUO?

Thanks for requesting!

poly!marauders x tall!reader ♡ 555 words

“Sirius,” you whisper loudly, leaning across the table and schooling your expression into one of concern, “do you want me to ask the waitress for a high chair? Can you read the menu alright from that angle?” 

Dark brows lower as Sirius glares at you. “I’m fine, thanks,” he says, voice dripping with malice that’s probably at least half feigned. That’s what you tell yourself, at least. “Hey, how’s the weather up there? I didn’t realize mountains could walk.” 

“It’s quite nice,” you reply, smiling at him, but James frowns. 

“Oi,” he says warningly. “This here is the prettiest mountain I’ve ever seen.”

Remus laughs quietly behind his menu, and you sigh even as James gives your hand a squeeze of solidarity. You’d tried to make a joke at his expense on the way into the cafe, but it had slipped right by him. When you’d asked if he needed you to hold his hand to cross the street, James insecurity-is-a-foreign-concept Potter had only said “Yes, please” and intertwined your fingers, not faltering even when you’d called him Junior. He’s still holding onto it, but at least his fingers waggling between yours makes a fine consolation prize for your failure. 

“So she gets to make fun of me,” Sirius objects, “but I don’t get to make fun of her back?” 

“Yes.” James bobs his head. “That’s exactly how it works. Way to keep up.” 

Sirius curls his lip at the both of you. “Fine. You can keep each other, and I’ll keep Moony.” He wraps a possessive arm around Remus’ waist, and the other boy only gives him a cursory glance as he’s tugged further down the booth and up against Sirius’ side. 

You give Sirius a pitying look. “Think you can kiss him if he doesn’t decide to lean down and let you?” you ask him. “You should have chosen James, at least you can sort of reach him.” 

Sirius' mouth puckers with an indignance that borders upon violent. “I’ll climb.” 

“Mmm, but some of us don’t have to.” You lean over the table, using your height to drop a kiss on Remus’ head where it’s bent over the menu. He looks up in surprise, and beside you, James' face breaks into a grin as pink spreads across the high points of your boyfriend’s cheeks. 

“I didn’t ask to be dragged into your quarrel,” Remus says, as sternly as he can while his shoulders are pulling slowly towards his ears. 

“Sorry,” you say, and you half mean it, both guilted and endeared by the bashful look in his eyes. 

“Oh, don’t be,” James tells you. “Maybe you’ll remind him he’s alive. Can I have one, lovie?” He beams, closing his eyes and angling his face up towards yours. 

You laugh, pecking his lips. James’ hand whips up, and you can forget how fast he is sometimes, your chin in his grasp before you can get more than a whisper of air between you. He kisses you three more times in rapid succession, only letting go once he’s fully convinced he’s got you dizzy with affection. And you are, blinking dumbfoundedly at your menu as Sirius snickers across the table. 

“Got nothing more to say, have you?” he asks, smug. 

“Shut up,” you mutter. “Or I’ll tell the waitress you’ve asked for a kids menu.”

[shy-ent]

.I'll Kiss You Like I Don't Love You By Rena | Shyent

Scaramouche x fem!reader, taller fml, dry-humping, asexual fml, hand-job, praise, avoidant attachment style, she has so many physical flaws and I love her for that, implied autistic fml

WC: 2.998k

This is a repost from my other account with some minor (BIG, THEY WERE BIG!!) corrections.

You gasp when you feel his knee being shoved further up between your legs against your bare pussy, unshielded by the dress you wore, often without any undergarments for the sake of general comfort at home.

Scaramouche rests his hand on the back of your head and pulls your face towards him. Tilting his head upwards to look up at you, the hairs at the tip of your noses brushing against each other, inflicting a ticklish sensation. A hand quivering with anticipation rests against his cheek, and he leans into your palm that was nearly covering the entirety of the side of his face. Scaramouche rubs against it as a means of feeling your calluses and his skin prickles.

He turns his face into your hand, eyes closing as he inhales your scent, lips pressing into your grasp for a moment of silence (a moment of ceaseless worship). You lean in to kiss his cheek, seeking to get as close to his lips as you can, should, and will.

Scaramouche appeals to his gaze once more, looking back at you through his eyelashes. Turning to you, he would not dare to close his eyes as he leaned in. The world as he knew it became a blur.

His world; your skin, your moles, your eyelashes in an illusion of entanglement with his, the colour of your scarred lips and your eyes. Scaramouche brushes his lips against yours. Grazes would turn into pecks, and pecks would turn into long, drawn-out kisses.

And another, and another, and another.

It was relentless, the creeping flame behind each kiss.

It was measured, yes, the roll of your hips and the warmth pooling at the pit of his stomach as he swallowed every flicker of fire that would spark between you two.

It was bridled, the way he'd consume you. Your scent, warmth beneath his fingers, palm buried in your hair. Your taste, your moans, your searing touch, all of which stoked the embers of a shared fire hot with passion. As always, you lean in. Not to make a plea to an ache you did not feel, but for closeness; the ever-grounding comfort of his presence.

Your desires were cool and steady. However, never in your ignorance mistaken, this want as weak in comparison to his, for it was all but mere. Not when it was so large and present in his conscious mind. Not when it was what tempered the fire you knew burned in him, always for you. Always because of you.

You whine in frustration as he removes his leg from between yours. In an attempt to reclaim his warmth, you’d raise your knee to try and wrap your leg around his waist. Each time, he dodged you by stepping back. Scaramouche chuckled at the sound of your groans of annoyance, his tittering kept light. You’d argue that it was in fact, a giggle. Scaramouche would beg to differ.

The back of his legs hit the soft edge of the sofa, and the corner of his lips curled upwards as he was forced to slump backwards into a relaxed position. Seizing the opportunity to climb on top of him, you jump at the chance to straddle his leg, hands clamped on his shoulders for balance.

You nip his lip before finally pulling back, your gaze shifting from his indigo eyes to the string of saliva that connected your lips. To Scaramouche’s amusement, you regarded him with a victorious, giddy expression, sticking your nose up in the air as a display of conquer.

"I won."

"And pray tell, what have you won?"

Your pause, your features scrunching as you try to articulate your triumph. It was stupidly charming.

"...I won," you say, a giggle slipping out, bouncing on his leg in excitement. You rest your hands over one another on the top of his head, rolling his neck in small circles. You flick your toes and smile teasingly, experimentally rolling your hips with a twinkle in your eyes, "So, may I?".

Scaramouche reaches out a hand to caress your cheek before wrapping his fingers and applying minimal pressure around your neck, whereas his free hand would rest on your thigh. No, his heart will never not flutter at the way your smile would brighten and widen (just for him, only for him) whenever he did it.

"Go ahead," he whispers, softer than he'd intended.

You remove your hands from his head to hold his face, pressing your forehead against his as you try to find your rhythm. Whenever Scaramouche’s face had been held by you, he’d feel so small. Yet, to his surprise, he never found himself feeling undermined or you overbearing. Rather, Scaramouche felt protected in your hands bigger than his, and cherished, and appreciated.

No matter what they did—each time—sometimes it took ten or more minutes for you to feel a spark of arousal, but it never deterred you from the general idea of doing these things with him, and it never made the experience of doing it with you worth any less.

You knew that he was accepting of how your needs differed from him and how enthusiastic he was about accommodating you. You knew it, yet even so, you never quite escaped the creeping anxiety of not being enough, like now.

Flurried and in spite of your better judgement, you press your clit harder, rougher against his thigh, eliciting an ached moan and the aversion of your eyes in something akin to shame, pulling your head back. Scaramouche did not miss a beat.

“Hey, look at me,” he caresses your cheek with his free hand. “You do not have to perform for me.”

“I’m not…I want to do this with you.” your movements were now slow, irregular and stiff, and your heart was racing. You didn’t want him to think that you didn’t, you didn't want him to feel undervalued. Not when he was worth so much to you.

He huffs through his nose, rubbing the pad of his thumb into the side of your neck, creating pressure and with efficiency, cutting off your blood flow slightly.

“I know that you do, but I’m reminding you that I want to do this with you too; take your time for me.”

To show you what he meant, he tightened his grasp on your side and forced you to slow down to a more comfortable and relaxed pace.

“Just like that, okay? We'll do this for as long as you want to. The point of this is that I want to feel good with you—not just because of you. You want that too. Don't you, pretty girl?”

You follow the pace Scaramouche eased you into and rests a hand over his stomach before raising his shirt over his chest. You avoid his gaze, the praise making you shy, and gaze down at his bare skin.

“I do…” you murmur, before adding earnestly, willing yourself to look back at him. “I want you too.”

Around the eight-minute mark, you exhale through your nose, nostrils twitching.

“Feeling it now?”

“Yeah…”

His hand on your hip slips up your waist underneath the dress you wore, rubbing tender circles around the fat of your breast, then the areola before pressing down on your nipple, causing you to hum his name.

“And what's this?”

“Good…”

“That's not what I asked, [name]. Let's try again,” Scaramouche pinches your nipple. “What's this?”

“You’re pinching my boob.”

He smiles at the pout on your lips and your furrowed brows, “Go on.”

“Your palm is pressed against my chest…and you feel so cold. And you're rubbing me so slowly…kneading? Yeah, the word is kneading. You're removing your hand from my neck and…”

You continue to narrate what he does. With his now free hand, he raises the hem of your dress over your shoulders for it to cascade down your back, exposing your body bare for him.

Scaramouche palms your neglected breast and rolls each side in opposing directions each with tenderness and care, flicking at and pressing into your cool nipples with his thumbs. As you lean into his touch, he takes it as his to use his right hand to caress your ass. He kisses the areola, before licking circles with his tongue and then finally taking your nipple into his mouth.

And gods, it was adorable. The way Scara looked up at you to gauge your approval, how he’d needily press his face against your breast and flick and twirl his tongue in a careful, methodical manner. The little suckling and clicking sounds he’d make as he sucked on your tit, how heavily he’d breathe through his nose and the occasional puff of his cheek and the pleasured hums muffled against your skin.

The saliva pooling at the corners of his mouth messing up his lips and the drool snaking down his chin and your stomach. The flush of his cheeks and the way he furrowed his brows and sucked on you in heightened fervour as you dragged your fingers through his indigo locks in a manner reminiscent of a cat. At some point, you stopped narrating as there wasn’t much to say anymore, but he did not mind. He didn’t need you to keep on talking to get off any further, not when you were looking at him like that.

“Good boy.”

You almost squeal when he scowls at you, but it wasn’t a scowl he could maintain for long when you decided to reward him. When you slide your hand along his neglected thigh and reach into the looseness of his shorts to palm his clothed cock before reaching into his boxers. Scaramouche rubs into your hand, and the expression on his face, his eyes rolling back and his muted moans did nothing but egg you on. It did nothing but want you to make him feel even better.

Once you’ve had your appetizer, you take your hand out, and you can absolutely hear his whine when you do. Scaramouche grazes his teeth against your nipple as if to threaten you, but returns to licking when you peel the band of his shorts down, allowing his cock to spring out and meet the cold air.

You firmly grasp his dick and rub your thumb around his head. Not enough to make him cum any time soon, but just to induce sensation. He pants, and finally, you hear a pop when he removes his mouth from your nipple, a thick string of saliva between his lips and the mound as he momentarily closes his eyes shut, panting.

Hm, what did you have to lose?

"Your pubes are really cute.”

"...Do you have to tell me that each time you see my dick?"

"They are, though...Can I have some?"

"...I feel I've become so desensitised to your-"

"Love for cute things?"

"If that's another way to say strangeness or degeneracy, then sure, that–to the point that I see no reason to deny you of your request."

"Deadass?"

"Absolutely."

"You're so sweet!"

"And you're ever the romantic."

Despite the sarcasm in his tone, Scaramouche did mean it. As weird, and quite frankly, disturbing, as your request might be, he wouldn’t mind providing you with even his nails torn from the bed..he's unwilling to say that just yet, though; the least he'd want to do is scare you. And he knew that it wouldn’t be the intrusive idea of gory fingers penetrating your imagination that would do it for you, but rather, the idea of him going so far for you. Him being hurt for you voluntarily. To confront the idea of him loving you. To be forced to acknowledge that reality you were not ready to.

You rest your chin on his shoulder, as you tease his cock, moaning into his ear,

“Thank you…thank you so, so much for this…I like you.” You can feel chills crawling up along your skin as your cunt drools on Scara’s thigh.

“If you’re so thankful…” he bites out, giving one hard and aggressive jerk into your hand. “Then touch me like you mean it.”

I love you, he doesn’t say.

And with that, you finally tighten your grip around his wet cock and on the gods, the sound elicited from him was heavenly. How he choked on his moan when you jerked his dick off and dug his teeth into your shoulder.

Giving up on maintaining a cohesive conversation, they allow themselves to be reduced to a cacophony of whining and panting, and on your part, near sobs when the sensation of your impending orgasm becomes overwhelming. When you verbalise this, he grips either side of your hips and forces you to continue rocking your hips. Each jerk was hard, mean and snappy, yet so fucking slow. You didn’t know which hurt more; the anticipation or the stimulation.

“Good good good, so good–oh fuck.” you mewl.

He thrusts his dick into your hand. Through his lashes, eyes half-lidded, his gaze wouldn’t flitter. No, but rather, he’d sensor his eyes up and down from your head to your cradling hips. He tried to imagine what it would be like to be inside of her, forcing himself to align the pace of his hips with hers. As torturous as it was, it did nothing but heighten his arousal.

“Fuck- just like that, don’t stop for me, alright, pretty girl…”

“I’m pretty?”

“Hah…you’re acting as if I don’t call you that on a daily basis.”

“..I just want you to say it again, please...”

“You’re so. Fucking. Beautiful” Each word is accentuated with each thrust. “If I let go, can you, hah, keep moving? Can you do that for me?”

“I don’t…I don’t think that I can…”

“For me. You’ll make me so fucking happy if you can do just this one thing, do you want to make me happy?”

“I do!”

“Then, can I trust you?”

Unfortunately for you, Scaramouche doesn’t provide you the opportunity to answer as he removes his hands to run to explore your body before finally settling on your bare waist. You’d probably pull his cheeks apart if he said it aloud, but the way your sounds had gotten progressively higher when you were forced to carry her pleasure for him was extremely pathetic.

Pitiful, the way you’d try to keep your watering eyes from rolling back (he said that you looked stupidly cute once for it. You had focused on the word ‘stupid’ more than the ‘-ly cute’ part) and trained on him. How you tried and failed to bite down on your lip to keep your mouth clamped shut.

The saliva trailing down your chin, darkened cheeks and tongue occasionally lolling past your lips. The way you’d grunt his name and strings of unintelligible pleas for nonsense was going to send him over the edge. The way, that despite yourself, you stretched yourself between stimulating and performing the task he put onto you. How you’d, despite the burden of his request, would overwhelm yourself with stimulation while putting special attention to his cock.

How you’d flick your wrist, circle his hole and shake. All the while stumbling over your words as you asked him again and again ‘Is this okay?’. Under normal circumstances, he’d tease and mimic you to see your scowl, but how could he now? He admits he’d feel uncharacteristically bad for it. Not when you were doing all of this for him.

Scaramouche didn’t even think that he could speak in full sentences anymore, not when he was panting along with you like a dog in heat. Not when he was pathetically calling your name and reassuring you of your performance. Not while trying his best to swallow the words hot at the tip of his tongue ‘I love you’. Not when he was trying to keep his composure that was melting into a puddle, assuming he still had any, to begin with.

Your thighs, at last, clench around his and you squeal, closing your eyes shut as you grind your pussy down on his leg, your fluids pooling and dripping down into a puddle on the floor. And oh, if you could see how beautiful and fucked up you looked. At the back of his mind, Scaramouche wondered if he could take a picture of you someday.

Your toes curl and you can feel his small body tense under you, your backs arching and chests pressing against each other, the saliva left behind him on yours smudging against his. Scaramouche feels his stomach twitch and his eyes roll back, your hips stuttering and your pussy fluttering on his thigh.

“I’m cumming…”

“I’m gonna cum too…”

Your hand stutters to a near halt, but, if the feeling of you alone wasn’t enough to send him over the edge. He played those words over and over as he rutted into your grasp, digging his fingers into your waist almost painfully as you sloppily licked the side of his neck. When you finally met your climax, you also felt his hot cum shooting between the two of you onto your stomachs and underneath your breasts.

No words were exchanged between the two of you. Not when you removed your head from his shoulder, not when you caressed his cheek with your hand messy with his fluids. Not when he leans into your touch, further smearing them against his face. Not when he pulled you in to lick the sweat off your cheek and forehead, not when you kiss him and suck on his bottom lip. Not when he wraps his arms around you and rolls you over to sit beside him on the couch and not when you burst into a fit of giggles and he hums, both your bodies twitching and coming down from your highs. And not when you quiet down, staring back into his eyes.

No words were spoken, but few were imminent in his mind.

I love you, he doesn’t say.

I know. You close your eyes.

Author's Note: This is my second smut piece. Writing it took me a long time, and I'm a bit dissatisfied with how it turned out. I haven't had the chance to proofread it thoroughly, so please let me know if you notice any errors. I would really appreciate your comments and reblogs! If there are any errors, please tell me, comment and reblog.

[thezombieprostitute]

Unwanted - Part 6

Summary: Your life is no longer yours. You've been forced into becoming a different species of human. Bought and paid for, what can you do but follow orders and obey your Alpha?

Warnings: Allusions to surgery, human trafficking, kidnapping; Angst; Depression; Suicidal thoughts. Let me know if I missed any!

A/N: Reader is described as big & tall, is female. No other descriptors used.

A/N2: This series is revived thanks to @the-slumberparty's December Daze Challenge. The prompt: Sharing New Traditions.

Word Count: ~1.7k

Part 5 -- Part 7

Series Masterlist

It's taken about a week but you tell Natasha you think you're ready to meet some other people. She promises to start with just one person, Sam, her Beta and the Community Manager. While Steve and Nat could work well with small groups, Sam could work with just about any size group and had the ability to coordinate packs and keep the community running, if not thriving. Nat's pretty sure it's part of why the three of them make for such a good pack together, they compliment each other's strengths and make up for their short comings.

"You're actually arriving at a good time," Sam tells you. "We're getting ready for our Solstice Celebration. It'll be a good way to introduce you to the community."

"Won't that be a little overwhelming?" Nat asks on your behalf.

"If she were a part of the celebration, sure." Sam turns to you, "the majority of the community will be dancing and singing in celebration of the days getting longer. But, if you're okay with it, we'll have you with the kids who are still learning the steps and the words."

You nod, not bothered at all by being put with the kids. It's been forever since you've interacted with any and, even before the operation, you enjoyed taking care of them.

"With everyone's focus on the celebration, it should be easier on you," Sam continues. "You'll be meeting a lot of people, yes, but you won't have everyone's attention."

Nat nods in her understanding, "good play, Sam."

Sam winks at her and she smiles. Even if you didn't know they were mates their behavior would have given it away. They're actually very sweet together.

"Will I need to wear anything specific? Do I need to cook? What all is expected of me?" You mentally start going through your meager possessions trying to think of what might be appropriate.

"Maybe in the old days," Sam tells you. "But we've adapted to the times, and not just for the sake of those who weren't born into this life." You give him a puzzled look and he explains, "it seems like ever since humans found out people like us exist they've been trying to figure us out, experimenting on us, and the like. Nat, Steve and Bucky, who you'll meet later, were all natural born like myself but they got operated on 'for science' or other such bullshit." He squeezes Nat's hand as she snuggles against him.

"And then there are cases, like you, where some of our own, in a misguided attempt to save our species, have made others to be like us. Usually they result in betas, but you're existence is evidence that they're getting better at controlling designations."

You face drops a little as you absentmindedly start rubbing on the scars on your neck. Two mating glands forced into your neck and two scent glands forced into your wrists. All of them pumping you full of unknown hormones that caused changes that even more surgeries helped make permanent.

Your thoughts are interrupted by two pairs of arms holding you tight. "Sorry about that," Sam hurriedly apologizes. "I didn't mean to spark the bad memories. Just wanted to let you know you're not alone while giving you some answers for what to expect."

"I understand," you nod.

Nat interjects, "I'm still willing to hit him if you want me to."

That makes you laugh, and they let go of you as they continue talking about the Solstice Event.

Sure enough, your presence at the Solstice Event is met with great acclaim, but it's in bits and pieces as everyone is busy with preparations. The only person who doesn't leave you alone is a little girl named Grace. She's excited she's not the oldest person sticking around the kids.

"I'm already 11," she tells you. "If Papa had been able to bring me here sooner, maybe I'd be with the other middle-schoolers."

"Why isn't your Papa here learning as well?"

"He was accepted into the packs several years ago. It's only recently that he was able to bring me in."

"I wonder why that is," you muse.

"It's because I'm an outsider," Grace grumbles. "Papa was taken when I was little. Apparently he was like you, and they hurt him. But he ended up here! And he met Curtis, my new Dad! So now I have two parents again! But Papa says he had to fight to get me here because I'm...I'm not..." You interrupt Grace with a big hug and she seems to settle down. "Are...are you purring?" She gasps.

The realization startles you. You didn't even know you could do that! Yet you both know that's what you were doing.

"I'm...I'm sorry," you stammer. "I didn't realize I was doing it."

"That's amazing!" Grace counters. "I didn't know I could be affected by it! Dad's Alpha purrs sometimes help against nightmares but they're nothing compared to what you did!"

Heat rushes to your face. "I'm not sure what I did was appropriate, though," you whisper. "I don't want to mess up social conventions or something."

"Let's get Ms. Nat, then!" Grace runs off before you can catch her.

Taking Nat and Sam's earlier warnings into consideration you do your best to keep your emotions under control. You don't want to throw off the celebration or get more unwanted attention because you're distressed. You go through some of the breathing techniques Nat helped you learn.

"I couldn't find Nat so I brought Papa instead," Grace declares, interrupting your thoughts.

The first thing you notice about Grace's Papa is his deep blue eyes that have a tinge of wildness to them. His smile is polite, but also genuine, you see where Grace gets hers from. He's wearing a scarf around his neck, reminding you of Grace's mention of his past being similar to your own. You wonder if you could ask him where he gets his from.

He holds out his hand, "I'm Jefferson, Grace's father."

You take his hand in yours, giving him your name. "Nice to meet you." That's when his scent hits you. It's like you opened up a tea and spice cupboard, a little chaotic but very pleasant. You have to fight the urge to go for a deeper scent.

Jefferson seems to pick up on your reaction and he immediately releases your hand. He takes a moment to steady himself before coughing, "so Grace tells me your purring helped her calm down?"

"Oh, yes," you admit, embarrassment burning your cheeks. "We...neither of us knew if it was okay for me to do that or not. I don't want to disrupt things, even out of ignorance."

"It's absolutely okay," Jefferson assures. "If there's anything I've learned in the years since..." he touches his scarf before shaking his head. "If there's one thing I've learned since...joining this community, it's that taking care of each other is always allowed. You were taking care of my little girl. Thank you for that."

You breath a sigh of relief, calm taking you over. Jefferson's eyes widen a little as he takes in your scent. "I think I can tell why Grace was able to relax so much with you. You're a very...sweet person."

You smile shyly, "thank you."

"Papa, can you stay with us? You can be the one to each us the dance moves, right?"

Jefferson laughs, "I suppose in the spirit of the Solstice, of sharing new traditions, I could ask Curtis to teach you."

"Oh, even better!" Grace runs off, you assume to go find Curtis.

As soon as she's out of sight, Jefferson turns to you, his expression serious. "I had to work for a very long time to get them to find Grace and get her away from her adoptive parents. Had to beg, plead, damn near put a gun to someone's head to get her back in my life. Do be careful with her."

"Of...of course. I...I'd never...I wouldn't..." you stammer, caught off guard by his sudden change.

He smiles again, "just being careful. She's my life and you're a stranger."

"Of course," you nod.

When Grace returns she's got a giant of a man in tow. His bright blue eyes are shining with happiness as lets her lead him around. He gives Jefferson a little kiss as a greeting, his smile never wavering, until he caught your scent.

"You're the new Omega," he says, eyebrows raised. He turns to Grace, "and you're telling me she helped you where I couldn't?" Grace nods, smile wide.

He holds out his hand, "I'm Curtis. It would be an honor to teach you and Grace. I'll go ask Sarah if it would be okay for me to take over the tutorials."

"Th--thank you, Curtis." When you take his hand to introduce yourself your hit by his scent as well. It's the scent of a walking into a warm house on a cold day. Combined with Jefferson's, you feel like you're wrapped up in a warm blanket, drinking hot tea as it snows outside. It's the most comforting combination you've ever felt.

You quickly back away, head full of unwanted thoughts. "I'm...I'm not sure I should be out here."

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" Grace is quick to grab your hand and try to pull you in for a hug. "Are you sure you can't stay and learn with me?"

"Um..." you look from her to her parents, both men are looking at you with knowing expressions.

"It'll be okay," Curtis soothes, rubbing Jefferson's cheek. "We'll just make sure you've got plenty of space for fresh air, okay?"

"You sure?" Jefferson whispers to him.

Curtis nods. "We'll let her have some space as she learns. Grace can be her primary teacher."

Grace hops up and down, "yes, please!" She turns back to you. "Please?"

You smile a little, "I don't know how anyone could say 'no' to that face."

Part 5 -- Part 7

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @dontbescaredtosingalong; @icefrozendeadlyqueen;

@irishhappiness; @lokislady82;

@lolitsthings @peyton-warren; @ronearoundblindly ; @startcarvingdarling; @thiquefunlover63

[thesecretmansion]

heyyy could you please write smth where remus is with a taller reader (think 5'10 or 5'9) and other girls are talkinga bout how she won't fidn love bc guys will be intimidated and then this absoloute GOLIATH of a man (remus) appears and like hugs her and the girls have to shut up. also could you please please make her a girly girl. Im so tired of tall girls always being portrayed as masculine.

thanks a tonnnnnnnn!!!

"I mean she's pretty sure but she is just… so tall"

"Yeah I mean what guy would want that"

"Brad told me that guys like short girls specifically ones at yknow what height"

You heard all of these comments but none really stuck out to you. They were all phrases that you had heard before throughout your life. You were above average and lived in a town with mostly below average girls which made you seem even more massive. The gaggle of girls picked up their volume as they got closer.

"It's a waste she doesn't play basketball"

You almost let out a snort at that one. You were highly uncoordinated when it came to sports. You had in fact been pushed into basketball when you were younger but when it became clear that it was not something you enjoyed, you dropped out.

"I wonder how tall she is exactly"

5'10. That's how tall you were, give or take a few centimeters. You checked the time. Remus was supposed to meet you at 3:30 and it was currently 3:45.

"And she wears heels to parties. She is SO brave"

"Right? I wonder where she gets her clothes"

They couldn't be serious. You felt your eyes roll. They were acting like you were some ginormous creature and not 4 inches taller than them. You checked your watch again.

"I just wonder how hard it is for her to find a boyfriend?"

You heard someone behind you call your name and as you turned you caught a brief glimpse of the girls mouths hanging wide open. There a few feet in front of you was your glorious boyfriend holding flowers.

Remus hustled to catch up with you and gave you a sweet hug. His arms were huge as they wrapped around you and you felt bad for the way his poor back had to bend in order to give you a proper hug.

"I got these for you as an apology", He blurted before you could say anything.

"Remus", you laughed as you accepted the flowers, "you could have just called"

"Yeah but...", He trailed off as he shrugged. You craned your neck up even further too look him in the eyes. You felt your eyes crinkle from your smile.

Your smile only got wider as he grabbed your hand to walk. And it didn't even twitch when you passed the group of girls who were talking.

"Is that her boyfriend? Crikey how tall is he?", an incredulous voice spoke up from the group.

"6'6", Remus called over his shoulder smirking as he did so.

They quickly turned as to make it look as if they weren't staring but you didn't even notice too infatuated with your Goliath of a boyfriend.

heyy. I hope you liked this. my writings a bit rusty but I swear this time that I will actually write anything you guys send in within reason. I got a bit carried away with the comments. I'm not that tall myself (5'5) but there was a girl at my hs that was 6'2 and I wanted to be her so badd. Also unrelated fun fact but ginormous isn't a real word. Its a combo of gigantic and enormous and was first used in ELF.

[the-whispers-of-death]

So Gaz and Bookworm!Reader having been meeting up for weeks now and he's a really great guy. You really like him and you want to start dating him before he goes away on deployment for months. You're so nervous, worried how he'd react. Worried he might not like you romantically. But then you get the courage to ask him out while you're both reading in the library.

And he's so confused. He thought you two were dating already, that your little meet-ups at cafés and restaurants were dates! Poor Gaz, he's like "I've even told the squad about you". The 141 knows all about you, been teasing him to get you to meet up with them so they can finally see the person Gaz has been gushing about. Oh the guys would get a kick out of teasing Gaz about assuming he was already in a relationship with you.

But don't worry, if you don't think those little meet-ups were dates, then he's taking you out on an official date! He doesn't care to be embarrassed about misinterpreting the past few weeks, he just wants to make it up to you. So he'll scrounge up whatever money he has and will take you to the fanciest restaurant he can afford, treating you like royalty the entire time.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated!

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Hi! I love your fics to bits! I would like to request a Morticia Addams x Taller Masc! Fem!Reader because we need more of your Morticia fics cause they are so good. The two of them meet as students at Nevermore and with reader being a member of the Archery Club. Their first meeting involves reader saying the line, “If you keep undressing me with your eyes, I’m gonna catch cold.” when she catches Morticia staring at her as she practices.

You can write how their love story as students blossom, you’re a genius at it anyway. Also, please make reader’s character have a grunge vibe and a huge Nirvana and Deftones fan.

But the oneshot ends with reader and Morticia as adults, already married, they had Pugsley and Wednesday. Morticia is admiring her wife practice archery outside of their Manor with the kids and says that very same line that started it all and Morticia doesn’t hesitate to give her wife a breathtaking kiss.

Please make the ending fluffy and cute. Thank you so much! <333

Stare Me Cold ~Morticia Addams xFem Tall!Wife!MascPresenting!Reader

Summary— Read the request. Anon response— Hi hi anon!! Thank you for the request! I love love love this idea. Morticia could always use more content eheheh. Hope you Enjoy! ♥️

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: fluff, staring, flustering, teasing, light praise, implied smut, happy endings, etc.

Enjoy (;

“It all started many years ago at Nevermore… We met for the first time at Archery Club, and your mother made quite the impression…” Morticia hummed, remembering the time like it was yesterday…

~~

Morticia’s feet crunched through the early January snow, he arms wrapped around her body to keep warm. The young raven haired woman walked up to the archery field, where students were starting to gather for Club.

Morticia found you, standing still and holding a bow and arrow. You had the arrow drawn back with intense concentration, aiming towards the target.

You felt Morticia’s icy eyes on you, starring. You had heard of Morticia Frump, but this was your first proper interaction with her. You sidedeyed the young woman after a couple seconds, her gaze making it hard for you to concentrate.

You took a deep breath and focused back on your target. In a sharp second, you released the arrow, and it went whizzing into the center of the target. You sighed out a breath that you’d been holding in.

Morticia’s gaze was still steady and intensely on you. You could feel her eyes raking up and down your frame.

You chuckled, lowering your bow and turning over your shoulder to look at the young woman.

“If you keep undressing me with your eyes, I’m gonna catch cold…” you chuckled.

Morticia stammered and blushed a little, before properly approaching you. She stuck out her hand.

“I’m Morticia, Morticia Frump” she breathed out, a little nervous.

This was different… Morticia was the ‘it’s girl of Nevermore… She didn’t shake hands or sound nervous.

You smirked and took her hand.

“Y/N, Y/N L/N.” You told the raven haired girl.

This time Morticia’s eyes raked up and down your frame uninhibited. she but her lip and smirked.

“I like your clothing style… suits you…” Morticia purred.

And her sassy, self-confident manner was back.

You tilted your head, unsure if the girl was actually complimenting you…

“Thanks…” you slowly said.

She did mean it.

At that, Morticia pursed her lips and retracted her hand, going to get her bow and a couple of arrows for archery.

~~

After that interaction, you could always feel Morticia’s eyes on you no matter where you went. It was unnerving, but at the same time you loved it.

You loved it because you could tell it unnerved her as well. Morticia was fascinated by you. She was fascinated by her like of you.

But the two of you didn’t hang around each other. Morticia was in the popular crowd, she had her own group of friends and acquaintances. You liked to do things more on your own. You were more of a grungy, loner, and you liked it that way.

But after that interaction last time with Morticia, you were starting to doubt if being alone was really what you wanted…

And Morticia was beginning to doubt if being surrounded by surface level acquaintances was what she really wanted…

One a particularly windy day, you were carrying some extra bows and arrows for archery. Before you saw Morticia coming diagnal into your path, you were crashing into her. You both fell to the ground, the bows and arrows scattering everywhere.

Morticia fell first, and you fell on top of her. You froze, your lisp parted, and your breath bated. You both stared at each other, eyes mesmerized with one another. You flickered your gaze down to Morticia’s lips, then quickly back up to her eyes.

You gulped, shook your head, and broke the trance, scrambling to get off of the young woman. You stood up and brushed yourself off, apologizing to the raven haired girl. You then went to pick up all the archery things you and dropped.

Morticia got up as well and immediately apologized as well, starting to help you grab all the scattered arrows.

“Thanks” you mumbled, blushing lightly as Morticia’s hand brushed yours when she was handing off the arrows she had collected for you.

The raven haired teen nodded in recognition.

“I… I heard your music from your dorm this morning.” Morticia hummed, “You have odd taste…”

“You mean grunge…?” You chuckled.

Morticia nodded and smiled.

You liked it when she smiled…

“Yea that. Maybe you should invite me over sometime and tell me about it…” the raven haired girl boldly said with a quirk of her brow.

Your jaw dropped slightly at the just of confidence going through the young woman in front of you.

“I—Ok!” You exclaimed.

“Excellent…” Morticia hummed, “I’ll come by after dinner.”

You hummed and nodded, trying to contain your excitement.

You spent the rest of day, only thinking about the basically date that you had with Morticia that night.

Finally, at around 9pm, you heard a knock on your door. Your roommate had left Nevermore recently, so you currently had a room all to yourself…

You let Morticia in. She sauntered into the room, sitting down on your bed. You quickly grabbed a tape and put it into the receiver, then sitting down next to the raven haired teen. The music started blaring.

Your gazes interlocked. And Morticia bit her lips.

~~

“And that is how I meet your mother…!!” Morticia exclaimed, lounging back against her hands on the picnic blanket.

Pugsley was curled up in Morticia’s lap, Wednesday was sitting in solitude on the corner of the blanket. Morticia’s gaze was on you. You were shooting apples off a fence, practicing your arrow aim.

“That’s so cool!” Pugsley exclaimed.

Morticia chuckled and nodded, bringing her attention to your shared son.

“But mother…” Wednesday quipped wickedly, “You did not finish telling us what happened in mother’s room…”

Wednesday said her words with a deep smirk, while Pugsley just stared at Wednesday in confusion.

“Wait what?” Pugsley said in confusion.

“Nothing! It’s nothing, no worries my little Pug bear…!” Morticia exclaimed, then shooting daggers at Wednesday.

Wednesday was about to say something again, Morticia clapped her hands together and exclaimed she was going to see how you were doing.

Morticia got up and sauntered over to your side.

“How’s it going, my Darling…?” Morticia hummed.

“If you keep undressing me with your eyes, I’m gonna catch cold…” you chuckled under your breath, making Morticia have shivers run down her spine, just like the day she met you.

~~~

Morticia Addams Masterlist

[outofmydepthatapublicbeach]

julien baker x tall!reader hcs

jj chats: hii everyone!!! i hope you guys like these!! its kind of short because i ran out of idea but please reach out if you want more!!

warnings: RPF, no use of y/n

feedback is encouraged and i'd love to get some just please be kind!!!

She would find any height difference between the two of you to be so hot.

Imagine her big brown eyes staring up at you??? Id die

She would love it when you walk up behind her and rest your chin on her head.

You can reach the top shelf and she loves it when you reach over her to grab something for her.

You like to braid her hair, just at random points throughout the day. 

Normally you brush through it once you're done and her hair goes back to her normal style. 

But one day you forgot and Julien walked around half the day with her hair braided. It wasn’t until Phoebe noticed it and pointed it out. 

Julien turned as red as a tomato and texted you saying you should braid her hair more often.

Just imagine how feral she is for you all the time, but imagine how feral she’d go for you when you’re in heels/platform shoes.

Every time she looked at you she’d blush but wouldn’t be able to look away.

She’d stay constantly at your side, a hand on the small of your back, holding your hand, just very touchy.

It would take you a while to pick up on it, but she’d get extra giddy when forced to look up to speak to you. 

You’d never let it go and tease her about it the whole night.

[diejager]

Meeting in the same line of work as an operator. But the ‘reader’ in this scenario isn’t ‘small’. Being only just a couple inches shorter then Simon, and built quite large on the ‘bulk’ side. Spoopy Operator Girlfriend that can pick you up who doesn’t like that..? Boyfriend operator who’s used to interacting with women who prefer the feminine dainty life, now they gotta deal with reader being almost the complete opposite of what he’s used too!

(plus side of having operator girlfriend, no need to worry about being gentle, especially when their covered in scars like Simon)

Guess they can count their calories together as they get ready to work out…how many calories do you think Simon eats daily…?

I know shit about calories and being/feeling tall, but I can sure can try and live my dream in this >:]

Unusual Size Cw: fluff, implied smut, hookups, Ghost being confused, tell me if I missed any.

Ghost always thought himself as the provider in a relationship, the person who cared and protected —the shield. He always thought he preferred pretty and dainty women, like those he dated in the past or the rare and occasional hookups he brought to a motel room from the bar. They were good fucks, pretty things mewling and moaning beneath him, their pleasures spurred on by his broad stature and mask, but none were permanent, always a staple of his lonely nights. Ghost - Simon - knew who he was and what he liked —or so he fucking thought. 

You came crashing through everything he thought of himself, a straight man into small and fragile women with painted nails and rouge lips. You were unlike anything he’d every seen, bulky and tall, limbs sculpted from hardened marble and mind made of rough wires. You rivaled him in size and broadness, taller than Gaz, broader than Soap and gruffer than Price. You were a carbon copy of him in your whole attire and equipment, decked in black and blues, lifting more than anyone he’d seen and broke through men like they were made of glass, shattering them in the same velocity of a bowling ball towards pins. 

And when you shrugged off your mask, he was sure that he knew at least one thing about himself, that he was a straight and confused man, bordering on bisexual with how strongly he reacted to you appearing as a male with your deeper voice and gruffness. You were practically a man.

You didn’t need protection, you didn’t need to be provided for or to be cared for. You were as independent and strong as he was, someone he could equally depend on for help and comfort, to reach for someone he knew could take him as a whole: all his fear, all his scars, all his trauma and all his regrets. Simon knew you can take all of him, following him through thick and thin to pull him back from the depths of his mind, scattering his nightmares and bringing him into your strong arms. 

Everything came so naturally with you, he trusted you with his life, having you watch his back when he cleared a room with you, and you trusted him just as much when you smiled at him before he left for overwatch. You worked together so effortlessly, he moved when you moved, and you stopped when he stopped, step for step and act for act. It came to the point where he was never seen without you and you were always shadowed by him, stuck by the hip and fingers touching, two giants in bulk and gear stomping around base with your masks pulled up and scaring people off. It was a sight to behold. 

And in moments of vulnerability, where he once thought he had to be gentle and careful, he could fully throw himself at you without the fear of hurting you, using his whole body to press you down and his strength to hold you still, fingers bruising your scarred skin and growling out your name. He didn’t have to hold back and he didn’t have to do all the work, letting you take care of him, featherlight touches and tender kisses, praising him and encouraging him to let go. He didn’t know he liked to be treated softly, to be loved and gently handled, it was such a difference of his battle-hardened facade he put up. 

He learned that he liked being reminded of his humanity, that he was flawed and that it was all right to be a wounded being. He learned that he liked you more than he did with small and dainty women, never having to hold back and being able to let go of his control. And he learned that it was fine to not conform to the imagine people had of him, to stand out for what he liked and favoured; to trust and to love; to be cared for and to be protected; and to share his pain.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts

[anonimusunnoaniswriting]

Under the City Lights in the Shade of your Kiss.

Namami with a Tall! Girlfriend

𝑴𝑫𝑵𝑰 🎀Age in bio or blocked🎀

This man is 6 ft. So there's not a lot of people taller than him to be honest so the first time he sees you he's awestruck. Jaw hanging open like a buffoon before it's physically closed shut by Gojo of all people.

Man is mesmerised. He remembers everything about you so clearly. Your hair bouncing as you're laughing and chatting with your friends, head turning animatedly. The pretty pink gloss on your lips glinting in the flashing lights of the club. Your gorgeous body hugged by the black tube dress you wore only complimented by the intricately embroidered bomber jacket on top. You towered above your friends. Your shoes adding a couple inches but there was no doubt about it. You were taller than him.

You caught him staring and smiled shyly before winking amd turning back to your friends who had finished their shots and were now dragging you to the dance floor.

Your wink and the whiskey in him gave Nanami the courage he needed to go up to you and dance. His hands gently learning the curves of your body and all he could think of was how you would look underneath him. And you, fresh out of your situationship were ready to have a bit of fun so it wasn't really surprising when he was fumbling with the keys to his apartment with you against the locked door desperately kissing at him. Lips moulded to his. Grinding on him.

You stumble in and the clothes are coming off. Inbetween kisses. The jackets (both his and yours), his tie, your heels. He paused to look up at you. "God, how tall are you gorgeous?"

You can't help but giggle. "I'm 6'2"... Is that an issue?"

"Good god no!" He breathes, eyes darkening with lust.

He's scrambling at your dress's zipper and you're tearing at his shirt buttons as he lifts you and carries you to his bed. It's large and soft, enough that he drops you down and immediately pulls off the dress from your body to bury his face in your cunt. The heat from your pussy and the wet patch forming on your panties spurring him on. He licks and sucks, pushing the fabric of your underwear aside like a man lost in a dessert and you are a life saving oasis. He peels off your soaked panties soon enough and continues licking and sucking with renewed vigour. The lewd slurping sounds turn you on even more and you feel yourself getting close to your climax.

"Fuck, don't stop please!" You mewl out. A sound that not many men have coaxed from you. Nanami smiles against your cunt but continues in the same way. Licking. Sucking. Prodding. Slurping. Your hands reach down to his blonde locks fisting them as you get close. Your hips involuntarily grind against his face over and over. He generously pushes one thick finger into your wet cunt then another, still keeping his pace. One more flick to your clit and you explode. Your pussy gushes and you push your hips into his face thankful for his strong arms pinning you down otherwise.

Nanami helps you ride out your high on his face and resurfaced grinning. His eyes twinkling. "I thought you were a goddess when I first saw you, but that just proved you're divine."

You felt your cheeks heat up and leaned in to kiss him. You could smell your arousal on his face. But it didn't embarass you. It turned you on even more. Here was man who loved pleasuring you so much that he got hard from it. You could feel the offending appendage poking at your thigh and giggled.

"My turn then?" You asked Nanami. "Can I suck your cock?" You smirked at him. While tugging at his slacks and boxers.

"Not this time." The blonde groaned, "I need to be inside you." He quickly reached into his nightstand drawer and pulled out a condom.

"Let me."

You took the foil square from his hands and tore open the wrapping as he kicked off the trousers he wore. Then gently placing the disk on his already hard cock younrolled it all the way down, and placed a tiny kiss on the top. His cock twitched in your hand.

"Fuck please let me put in in gorgeous" he begged feeling like if he didn't fuck you now he might just come in your hands like a school boy. You smile and lay back letting him get on top of you. As he lines up his cock with your entrance you can't help but feel a thrum of excitement.

Nanami slowly pushes his cock into your greedy pussy. His cock is big enough for you to feel a delicious stretch while not so large as to hurt you. You feel him filling you nicely inch by inch, eyes trained on your face to make sure you were comfortable. A few shallow thrusts have you moaning and grinding your hips against him again.

"Fuck me, please Nanami-san! Please!" The desperation to feel him fully inside you evident in your voice. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and complies.

Nanami pushed into you fully. While kissing and licking the skin of your neck.

"Yea? Do I feel good for you gorgeous? Is it good?" He growls in your ear. You can't do anything but nod, his cock making you feel so full.

Slowly, Nanami starts to rock into you gently and then hard, picking up the pace. His mouth finds yours and your lips crash , teeth grazing and hands grabbing he fucks into you. All the noises coming from you sound like the prettiest siren song he's ever heard making you irresistible. He fucks your pussy kissing down your cheek to your jawline and then your collarbone. His thrusts getting faster and more and more erratic.

You put your hands on his shoulders and rock your hips into his cock further and further, harder, faster. Your lips not leaving his.

Nanami grunts a quick "I'm gonna come!" before ejaculating inside you.

He pulls out, making quick work of the condom and hops out to the toilet to clean up. He brings back. A warm damp towel and helps you wipe up your slick as well and then returns to the bed in all his gorgeous naked glory. You cant help but feel your eyes close.

"C'mere." Nanami mumbled to you. He wraps , arms around you cuddling you and nuzzling against your ear leaving the two of you to slowly drift away into a comfortable slumber....

AN: ok this is NOT EDITED. THIS IS A MIDNIGHT SUDDEN BURST OF INSPIRATION FICLET SO BE GENTELLL

Also I wrote this for 1 person and 1 person only @pseudowho it u. Since you wanted a tall reader and I was like oh yeah I can defo write that!!! (Has never been tall in my adult life) 😭😭😭

This is so sad Alexa play WTTBP

It's literally 12:30 AM and I pulled this out of my ass so if you see grammatical errors or something just KINDLY. KINDLYYY tell me in the comments.

Aight. I love my man Nanami. I'm sorry for any inaccuracies bc my 5'2" ass has never been tall in its life. I'm very tired. Will edit this tomorrow in the daylight.

[moonstruckme]

hi lovely! can u write a one shot of poly!marauders with a tall fem reader? reader is the same height as rem but taller than James and sirius? thank you, it mean a lot bc there’s never really any tall readers!! <33

Thanks for requesting my love!

poly!marauders x tall!reader ♡ 840 words

“You look great,” James insists, sitting on the bed to pull his shoes on. 

Remus huffs, fiddling with his tie. “I look like a prick. I’m not made for posh clothes.” 

“Yes, you are,” you say, walking over and moving his hands aside to straighten his tie yourself. “James is right, you look handsome. Just because you’re not used to wearing a suit doesn’t mean it doesn’t look good on you.” You straighten his lapels, pressing a kiss to his frowny lips. 

“Yeah, it actually really suits you,” James says, laughing at his own joke. 

Remus scoffs, but his lips twitch. 

“Anyway, you can’t wear one of your sweaters to a formal event.” Sirius rolls his eyes, tying his own tie with practiced ease. “Then you’d really look like a prick, and horrifically out of place.” He looks at you, giving your dress an appreciative up-down. “Looking good, gorgeous…are those the shoes you’re wearing?” 

You glance down at your simple black ballet flats. “I was planning on it, why?” 

Sirius frowns, striding over to your side of the closet. “They’re not bad, but I thought you had some that would go better…here.” He squats, digging out a pair of heels. “Why don’t you wear these?” 

You feel your lips purse in distaste. You’d bought those shoes while riding the rush of a spontaneous and fleeting boldness. You haven’t worn them other than to try them on after you’d left the store. You’re taller than James and Sirius barefooted, but heels have you looking down upon all three of your boyfriends. You already feel too tall sometimes, and those shoes only make it worse, more noticeable; it feels like you’re taking up more than your fair share of space. 

“You want me towering over you all night?” you ask Sirius teasingly. “Jamie, why is this dinner so formal anyway?”

“Beats me.” He shrugs. “Guess they want to make it seem like a bigger deal. Or more official, or whatever.” 

“It is a big deal,” Remus says, sitting down next to James and toying with his curls. “You nearly won the world cup, love, that deserves a big event.” He looks at you. “And nobody minds you towering over us, darling. Wear the shoes if you like them.” 

You though you’d left that topic behind. “I don’t know,” you say, eyeing them in Sirius’ hand. “I don’t know if I feel like it.” 

Sirius holds them out to you. “Just try them on and see, yeah? I think they’ll really complement the dress.” 

You try not to sulk as you take them, sitting down on the bed to put them on. When you stand, you feel immediately awkward. It’s like you’re a lamppost rather than a girl. 

Sirius doesn’t seem to notice, whistling appreciatively. “Fuck, babe. Your legs look great in those.” 

You look down as though to fact-check him. Your dress doesn’t show much, but the heels do make the muscles in your calves more pronounced. Still, that’s hardly your priority. “I don’t know,” you say again. “I feel weird.” 

Remus tilts his head at you. “Why’s that?” 

You shrug, crossing your arms in front of you. “I just don’t know if I like being this tall,” you say. “People always stare at me when I wear heels.” 

“I’ll bet they do.” James raises his eyebrows at you. “You look killer, angel.” 

Your shoulders gravitate towards your ears, and you flush. 

“You do,” Remus affirms. “You should wear whatever makes you feel best, but if you’re not wearing heels because you get some extra attention…well, so what?” You blink, unused to such bluntness from him. “You’re lovely, and people are going to stare at you regardless. It’s up to you, of course, but I think you should lean into it.” 

Your heart constricts dramatically at the thought, but you force yourself to consider it, because honestly, Remus does sound sort of reasonable. It wouldn’t hurt you to begin working towards feeling more confident in heels, and a sit-down dinner seems like a decent place to start. 

Sirius offers you a hand, helping you up from the bed and guiding you over to the mirror. 

“You’re a fucking knockout, babe,” he says, and while his voice is light, there’s no hint of his usual teasing. “Wear what you want, but know that you look just as hot in heels as you always do.” 

You hesitate. “You don't mind that I’m so much taller than all of you in them?”

James makes a dismissive noise. “No complaints here,” he says. 

You look at Sirius, the shortest of the boys, but he only cocks an eyebrow at you. “I’m just getting closer and closer to tit level, sweetness.” You let out a shocked laugh, and he grins wolfishly. “Wear heels as tall as you like.” 

You roll your eyes. Lean into it, Remus had said. Okay. You can do that. 

“Alright, let’s go,” you say, heels clicking as you head for the door. “Move those little legs of yours, we’re going to be late.” 

[elliesmainhoe]

ellie x taller!reader?? i feel like she’d be so blushy if i gave her a forehead kiss or something snsbshsv

Ellie Williams Headcanons: Taller!Reader

So cuteeee

It's not difficult to be taller than Ellie (shes around 5'4/5'5)

And she LOVES a taller woman

Giving her forehead and nose smooches 🥰

She's smitten<33

So so so SO easy to fluster.

Standing next to her, towering over her? Blushy.

Booping her on the nose? Flustered.

If your quite a lot taller than her, and her face is at the same level as your boobs?

Motorboats. All. The. Time.

Calls you mommy

Literally embodies the Hey Mama's lesbian trope when it comes to you.

I just have this imagery of you two dancing to the radio in the middle of the night, dressed in pyjamas spinning on the kitchen tiles under the fridges light.

Goddddd u two are so goals 😭

Is your biggest hype woman.

You feel insecure about your height? She is hyping you tf up.

If her overwhelming compliments and flattery doesn't help then her getting on her knees certainly does ;)

She gets so frustrated sometimes-

She's trying to act all tough and masc but she can't reach the top shelf.

You just swoop in and giggle at her, giving her whatever she was on her tiptoes for.

So sweet.

Has your contact name as 'my goddess'

Corny asf ik 💀

But she is unashamed-let this hopeless/whipped lesbian Simp for her girlfriend in peace ✌️

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

This is such a good prompt thank you for the request anon!!!

Taglist: @aunslie @lonelyfooryouonly @eywaskisses @daryldixonh0e @kittynnie @lovelyyevelyn @randomhoex @moonlightdivine @haerinwho @mufflaa @mial1l @sarahsmileslikesarahd0esntcare @moonlighting87 @escaping-reality8 @magicalfreakcowboylawyer @hejdevkdbdjsd @dergy @half-of-a-gay @ellieismami @cyberlainn @gollumsmygel @sseorii @kyleeservopoulos @taloulalila @ellieluhme @kiiyoooo @delusionalvioleht @joelscharm @hi2647 @gumdropkoo @coffeeandbookskeepmealive @womaniza @namgification @kimiisims-blog @tayyyystan @abigaillovestoread @whoreshores @kylieeluvstlou @knowitsforthebetterr @endureher @erikaar @lanasluverr @sayah13 @ilovebufflesbians @srryhoneyy @222fine444u @jade1212 @frogtits1

NOT PROOFREAD

[m-jelly]

Hello jelly!

Can I request a masculine Female reader x Levi? Like shes very strong, TALL, has a really quiet and badass personality lol. Levi is all for it honestly.

Ideas for theme cause idk.

Guard reader x Prince levi

Marley/ war

Modern Au

Thank you have a fabulous day!

@ladycheesington

My sword and my heart

Levi x Fem!Reader

Royal AU, Prince Levi, tall reader, muscular reader, strong reader, secret romance, fluff, loving Levi, Levi is a bit of a simp/fan.

Levi has admired and loved you for so long. He can't help but flirt with you and get you so flustered. He finds it enjoyable to get you, a strong and tall woman, to blush hard when he looks up at you and compliments your skills and beauty.

No tags as it is reader-specific.

The royal tournament used to be something Levi hated, but then you joined his guards. Now, Levi looked forward to the event. You loved competing in his name and crushing all the competition. The love you had for it was clear to Levi when you battled, which was one of the reasons why he enjoyed it so much now.

This year it was a summer event and all the royals and families of high standing put a guard, knight or a few soldiers forward for battle. Others always put in a few, but Levi only ever put just you in. He made sure your armour was perfect for you and you were comfortable within it.

You were a marvel to behold in your comfortable armour. You never wore overly heavy things, just the right amount that allowed you to be flexible, move fast and allow your muscles to breathe. You were rather proud of your outfit and it was the second event you had gone to. A lot had changed since the last one, now you were romantically involved with the Prince and he was making steps for love to be allowed so you could marry.

You pouted a moment as you adjusted your large sword in its scabbard. You looked around for the Prince, but couldn't see him. You felt a little deflated that the man who had stolen your heart was not here. For so long you swore you would dedicate your life to being a guard of the royals and fighting bad people and monsters. The concept of love was just not something you considered, but here you were searching for the man you loved.

"Knowing you are looking for me makes my heart flutter."

You looked down at Levi in his royal suit. A blush spread on his cheeks at seeing all his medals. It was a white suit with many gold buttons and a white cape on one side and red on the other. His hair was tamed back showing off his handsome face. A sword was in a scabbard on his hip.

You bowed your head to him. "Your highness."

"No need to bow." He offered his gloved hand to his butler. "I have something for you." He took something from the butler and showed it to you. "I hope you like it."

You gasped at seeing the grand dark green cape with Levi's royal arms on. "It's incredible, your highness. Is it really for me?"

"Yes."

You clenched your fists as you fought your emotions. "Thank you. I will wear it with pride."

He pulled away when you reached for it. "No, no. I insist on putting it on you." He walked behind you and connected it to your shoulders. "There, perfect." He walked around to face you. "It won't slow you down or get in your way, will it?"

You shook your head. "N-no. I can fight with it." You puffed your chest out. "I can fight better with it! It'll fuel me!"

He touched your armour at the front before leaning up and kissing the corner of your mouth. "May that fuel you better."

You shivered. "Yes, your highness!"

He smiled fondly as you ran towards the tournament grounds. He climbed up to his seat allowing him to look down at the grounds. He sat in his cushioned seat and felt himself smile as soon as he saw you standing with pride. Yet again, you were the only woman out there fighting.

The event started as normal, and the Emperor of the land announced the reason for it. Jokes were made about you as well, but it was clear that this was not getting to you and you were just excited to fight. There was a burning fire within you to fight with everything you had.

The first round king of the hill. It was one-on-one fighting and whoever won would remain in the arena and keep fighting until they were knocked out, or they won. It was an exciting battle and really got the crowd going.

Levi felt a burning pleasure and desire run through him as soon as you walked with grace into the area. You held your head high and readied yourself. For someone so strong and tall, you moved with grace and poise. Your movements were like a dance. Your body would twist beautifully and then you would use such powerful strength that came from raw rage.

Levi was on the edge of his seat as he watched you cut down every single man you faced off against. Your last opponent was the Emperor's who was known to have a massive ego. It was clear that he was trying to get into your head by talking to you, but it only made you want to kick his ass more.

The battler didn't take very long. You went right into attack mode and knocked him back with a slash after slash. Levi's heart skipped a beat when you sliced so hard that you cut his sword in half. He stood up when you got in your opponent's face, pulled back and twisted so beautifully with your cape and kicked him hard.

The area was quiet for a moment, but then all eyes were on Levi as he jumped up and cheered with pride. As soon as Levi cheered for you, so did his staff with him and your guard friends who were protecting him. It made your heart flutter and tears fill your eyes when you saw how much love there was for you.

The victories didn't stop there. You dominated the tournament and won almost everything for Levi. The ones you didn't win were the ones you weren't taking part in. The horse racing was nailing biting close between you and a rather lovely knight who was always kind to you.

At the end of the tournament, you were ready to gain your award but the Emperor did you dirty. You were disqualified for breaking his knight's sword. You accepted it, but it was clear Levi and his people were furious. So, you had to honour them.

You strolled over to where Levi was sitting. You could see the hurt and anger in all their eyes. You smiled at Levi and placed your hand on your heart. You dropped to one knee and bowed before him. You rose up and inhaled deeply before speaking.

"Prince Levi! It was a great honour to fight and win this tournament for you! Long may you rein!"

Levi's cheeks burned at your speech. You had said you'd won, even though the emperor said you hadn't. Levi hated the Emperor of this rival land, so it made him happy you were standing up to him. Plus, declaring long may you rein about Levi was a bigger blade to dig into the Emperor's ego.

Levi ran down to the fence and leapt over it. He raced over to you and yanked you to your feet. He gazed up and smiled. "You are so beautiful." He pulled you down and kissed you with all the love in his heart. "I love you."

You whined a little at everyone seeing that you and Levi had been in a secret relationship. You were worried, but you knew you were strong enough to protect the two of you from others. You held Levi's hands in yours and smiled sweetly at him.

You leaned closer to him. "I love you too, Levi."

He kissed you and hummed a laugh. "Using my name and no title in public, huh?"

"I will accept any punishment."

He pulled you along to his staff and the guards. "Let us return home. We have to celebrate your victory." He paused a moment. "We are all proud of you."

You welled up as you looked around at the staff, guards and then your lover. "Thank you, all of you."

[thezombieprostitute]

Unwanted - Part 5

Summary: Your life is no longer yours. You've been forced into becoming a different species of human. Bought and paid for, what can you do but follow orders and obey your Alpha?

Warnings: Allusions to surgery, human trafficking, kidnapping; Angst; Depression; Suicidal thoughts. Let me know if I missed any!

A/N: Reader is described as big & tall, is female. No other descriptors used.

Part 4 -- Part 6

Series Masterlist

You wake up covered in sweat, crying from your nightmares. Your entire body ached, especially where you had scars. It took you a minute to orient yourself. The skylight was incredibly helpful as an instant reminder that you were no longer in your cell at Dr. Kemp's mercy.

The comfortable bed and blankets were another reminder. Natasha had graciously added to your education on Omega instincts and needs. Nesting had originally been described to you as just bundling your bedding. Nat had explained it was a manifestation of an Omega's need for a safe, comfy place. Most often to sleep, but sometimes just for relaxing. It's not uncommon for an Omega to have little nests built in other places of their homes. For now, though, you were just grateful to indulge in the soft fabric, comfy mattress, and a multitude of pillows.

You check the digital clock and see that it's a little after 5 in the morning. Part of you wonders if that was the default time you'd get woken up in your cell and so you're just automatically waking up out of habit. Yes, the nightmares were probably a factor, but you can't remember a time you didn't have them. Maybe you should ask Nat about getting yourself a teddy bear you can squeeze to help you calm down instead of the pillow you currently had in a death grip.

She had promised to come by at 10 today to follow up with you. That gave you a whopping 5 hours to get more sleep. If only you could. You were wide awake and sleep felt like a terrifying concept, as if you would wake up back in your cell.

Resigning yourself to wakefulness you get out of bed and look around. You've got options for what to do and you're not sure what to do with yourself until the pressure in your bladder gets your attention. After you relieve yourself you decide to shower first and try out some of the sweet, floral smelling products to find ones you liked. You probably spent too much time in the shower but you were so grateful for the hot water and feel soothed by the scented shampoos and washes. For the first time in forever a shower felt genuinely relaxing and rejuvenating.

Walking out of the bathroom, wrapped in one of the towels, you look through the closet. Nat had promised that none of these clothes were used, they were all recently bought, just for you. Yes, they were men's clothes, but that's because they didn't have women's clothing your size. You assured her it was something you were used to. You put on a pair of boxers followed by sweatpants and a t-shirt, taking a kind of comfort in the fit of the pant legs around your ankles, breathing easier with so much of yourself covered. There's also a pair of slipper socks that, when you put them on, make you giddy with how warm and comfortable they feel. Honestly, you wonder if you'll ever feel comfortable being barefoot, or in a dress ever again. Those hospital gowns have likely soured your clothing opinions forever.

Recalling your tour with Natasha from last night, you remember you're also allowed to make yourself some breakfast with the ample food supply in the kitchen. It's been quite some time since you've cooked but you want a meal that's actually warm and tasty. Still, it has been a while so you opt to start simple with toast and eggs. You end up with scrambled eggs but that just means you can add shredded cheese before adding it to the toast. You took a bite and nearly ended up in tears from the relief, the memories, the confirmation that you were no longer in your cell.

All of your emotions kicking in from the conflicting brain chemistry have you running back to your nest to cry yourself out.

By the time Nat knocks on your door you've calmed down. You welcome her in and the two of you make small talk. You tell her about everything going on and she nods in understanding.

"This is definitely something we've seen before," she nods. "When you're ready for it, we'll introduce you to some of the others who have had similar experiences."

"So there are others?" you ask. "Ari wasn't just bullshitting about that?"

"Unfortunately, yes, there are others. We're a bit of a dying species, doing what we need to survive. But while a bunch of us work for the government in exchange for safety, resources and a chance at creating future generations for others of our kind, some outliers, like Kemp and Hansen, have gone to more extreme measures."

"So Ari is trying to do good work and I just...I wasn't supposed to...I'm..."

Nat hugs you. "You're welcome here. We will find a place for you here."

Part 4 -- Part 6

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @dontbescaredtosingalong; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @lokislady82;

@lolitsthings @peyton-warren; @ronearoundblindly ; @startcarvingdarling