#i have more room to experiment but that's also kind of intimidating!

[wanderingmaskdragons]

ko-fi prompt: meeting bees!

[killerpancakeburger]

Jealousy headcanons

🧼 & 💀

I also have scenarios partially based on those hcs incoming ☆

Tags: Price'sAssistant!Reader, fluff, protectiveness, possessiveness (but wholesome).

SOAP:

Was actually working on asking you out. Needs it to be perfect. Getting maniac about it.

Outraged when another guy makes a move first. Especially one that mediocre. Although if he was honest, he doesn't think a single dude on base is worthy of you. Yes even himself

So petty. Will hold a grudge forever. You'll have all but forgotten about it, but not him. Oh no. He mentally branded his rival for life. Dude is in his sights. He won't do anything that would put the other's life at risk, but make his life suck? Easy peasy. Will back down when the other back down. ...For now.

Will switch your jacket with his. Yes it's childish, so what? Only when Gaz mentions that if you two are dating in secret, you’re not being very discreet, and once you’re done choking on your drink, you learn that there's MACTAVISH written in big bold letters on your back. (Didnt notice cos you have the same type of jacket as em in the same size since they didnt have one in your own)

Very vocal and agitated about his distaste and resentment. Rants with hand gestures, forever if you don't stop him. Accent and slang getting more and more scottish as he goes.

“Ain't you all sunshines and rainbows today!” you tease him, a bit overwhelmed by his fervor, and by how personally he's taking this. You assume it's a TF141 thing - they've always been protective of you since you're the civilian of the team and the least experimented, even acting as buffer between you and other soldiers. You’re their assistant, their teammate, and no one else's.

Unbeknown to you, your wannabe suitor had boasted about the move he made on you to other soldiers. To make himself look good, and to get some kind of reassurance. The minute Soap heard mention of your name, he couldn’t help but join the group to listen in.

Galvanized by the feedbacks of his mates, the guy gets bolder in his remarks. Johnny will never report to you what he heard - it would only hurt you. When he calls out to the man, the private still doesn't realize his mistake. He replies to the sergeant with enthusiasm, thinking he's here to join the locker talk.

To think that guy dared to think Soap was on his side - would sympathize -, simply because of some implicit bro code. He was boiling until now, but that was what made him snap.

Before he could even think about it, he already had knocked the private on his ass with one punch. The altercation was broken up before he could do more.

He's itching for a fight, but he'll settle for a punching bag. Unless the guy intimidated you, or made you uncomfortable in any way. Then he's already leaving the room after you’re done telling him about it, and if you stop him, he tries to convince you it's for the best. Letting him deal his own brand of justice. It's kind of his specialty, after all.

Either you give in, and you two talk again afterwards, or you resist, despite his arguments turning into supplications. In both cases you end up asking the one burning question: "Why does this bother you so much?"

He suddenly looks like a child caught red-handed with his hand in the cookie jar. Avoiding your gaze. Grumbling to himself. You have to insist for him to make his speech audible again. Replies with another question. "Why wouldn’t it?"

You sigh, cross your arms. "You know what I mean. I never saw you so fired up over something that wasn’t work-related." You eventually manage to extract a confession from him.

"He... he's not your type." More grumbling. You raise your eyebrows in disbelief, before a smirk stretches your lips. "Oh? And what is my type, Sergeant?"

He looks almost pained for a second, and you feel guilty, even though you don't know what for. Then his expression changes, to one that reminds you of a condemned man in front of the gallows - a blend of resignation and resolve. He wraps his arms around you and hides his face in the crook of your neck. "Don't tease me, Bonnie." Before you can comfort him, moved but still confused, he adds: "Or I won't be able to hold back anymore."

You try to remove from his spot, but his embrace prevents you from backing down and his head doesn't budge. "Johnny... look at me. Tell me what's wrong. Let me help. Please?"

He finally meets your gaze, forehead almost touching yours. He looks more vulnerable than you've ever seen. "Go out with me?" Before you can answer, he adds: "I'll be so, so good to ye, swear it. Hell, ye've got me wrapped 'round yer finger already."

GHOST:

In denial about his feelings for you. Doesn't stop him from feeling super possessive though.

Two words: starring problem. Whether it's menacingly at the other guy, or at you, to make his disapproval known, just in case the absurd idea to accept his advances happened to cross your mind.

You're way too good for that bloke who doesn't even have the balls to face you himself (he left a note on your desk). Who the bloody hell does he think he is?

If the guy happened to scare you or coerce you in any way, he's done for. Gone. You'll never know what Ghost did, but you never saw the dude again. And when you ask around, no one seems to understand who you’re refering to...

If he's not starring at you from afar, he's with you, magically appearing at random times of the day.

When you ask him for explainations about his behaviour, he grumbles that he knows about the private's confession, and how that bloody wanker is obviously beneath you, and that you could find so much better.

You never planned to accept the other guy's advances anyway, but you’re terribly intrigued by Ghost's unusual behavior. He brags about his own skill here and there, but doesn't waste time ranting about others' lack thereof.

"I don't know about 'much better'", you argue, only half-serious. The men who've approached you can be counted on the fingers of one hand, and none of them was... adequate. But you don't really want to talk about it with your tall and dark lieutenant, a man that manages to intimate you as much as he charms you.

The sentence barely left your lips that the creaking of his chair makes you look up, and you can read something akin to "you can’t be serious" in his eyes before he stops in front of your desk. "Simon?" you call out, confused, but instead of answering, he cradles your face with one hand, the other lifting his mask halfway.

"Bite me if you don't want this" is the only warning you get before his mouth meets yours. You keep your teeth to yourself. He overwhelms you completely with just one kiss. When he releases you, you need a moment to pull yourself together.

"How's that for much better?"

[chukys-mouthguard]

What if?

Genre: fluff

Word count: 3,229 words

Featuring: matt rempe x female reader

Warnings: drunk guy being an asshole at the bar, aggressive/protective Matt

Note: okay, this is the first thing I’ve written in years, please be kind 😅 I just got a thing for this man now idk…feel free to send in some requests or let me know if you want more to this story? Not sure if it will be a one off or a little series

“Okay, how do I look?” You walk down the hall of your apartment, stopping to pose for Matt so he can give you his stamp of approval. He eyes you up and down, as if he is going to deliver some harsh critique. Your outfit is nothing crazy; jeans, a gray long sleeved bodysuit, black heeled boots, and a small cross body bag. With the New York City weather still chilly out, you figured it would keep you warm along with the alcohol you’d be consuming.

“Beautiful as always. But let’s try and keep the collecting of guys' phone numbers to a minimum tonight huh?” You laughed as you playfully smacked Matt’s arm. Making your way to the fridge to grab your High Noon you’d started sipping on before getting dressed. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous Matthew Rempe.” He shot you a cocky smirk as he leaned on the kitchen island next to you. “Me? Jealous? Never. Because I’m the one in your apartment and not them.” You rolled your eyes as you swallowed down the last bit of seltzer before unplugging your phone from the charger nearby. “Okay Mr. Chauffeur, let’s hit the road.”

You loved having Matt in NYC playing with the Rangers. The two of you had been best friends since you were teenagers, though you’d lost touch a bit once you moved to New York. Matt’s stint in Hartford allowed the chance to slowly reconnect, but having him now with the Rangers was even better. The two of you often spent nights at each other's apartments, going out to dinner, and of course you attended every home game you could to see Matt play.

You’d always had a soft spot for Matt. Sure he was a bit intimidating being practically 7 feet tall, his knuckles cut up or bruised half the time, and a black eye never seeming to catch you off guard anymore. But you’d gotten close enough to see the side of him most people don’t experience. Though you never imagined your relationship being anything more than what it was. Friends, and nothing more than that. But you couldn’t deny the way you had paid attention to how he’d grown into a man. He had outgrown his awkward phase, and you now looked at him and saw him as handsome, not cute or adorable like he was when you were growing up.

You constantly find yourself thinking, what if you weren’t just imagining things? When he spends the night and walks into your room wearing just a towel after a shower. The way he hugs you and lingers longer than just a friend would. The way he takes care of you when you’re drunk. Or nights like tonight, where he’s willing to stay up late to be your designated driver when he’s got an early morning skate and a big game tomorrow night.

Just one day, one day you’d love to kiss him and see what happens. Or flirt a little extra and see if he takes the bait. But you also don’t want to lose your best friend in the process, or be turned down and embarrassed for thinking he’d ever feel that way about you.

“So what’s the plan for tonight?” Matt asks as he puts a hand on the back of your seat as he looks over his shoulder, backing out of his parking space. It’s such a cliche action, but boy does he look good doing it, and your heart certainly skipped a beat.

“The typical routine. Start at Tucker’s. Then move on to 1989. Then finish-“ “At Coop’s?” Matt smirked as he looked out at the road. One hand on the wheel with the other resting on his thigh. He was literally in jeans and a hoodie yet somehow he looked just as good as he does in a suit on game day. “Either that means I go out too much, or you’re finally starting to pay attention when I tell you things.” “Definitely not paying attention, it’s you going out too much.” He laughed as you playfully punched his arm, pulling out your phone to text your friends that you were a few minutes away.

“So Cooper’s closes at 2:30, but I honestly don’t think I’ll last that long. Especially because someone has a big game tomorrow! And I wanna be well rested. So let’s plan for like 12:30/1? Is that okay?” You looked at Matt a bit apologetic, knowing he’d have to be up early for morning skate. But he was always adamant about driving you, no matter what time it was.

“Of course, you know I’ll be here no matter the time. I’ll plan to be at Coop’s around 12:45. I’ll come in to get you too, it’s gonna be cold and dark out. I don’t want you walking to find me.” You put a hand to his cheek as you make a joking pouty expression. “Aww, such a gentleman Matty.” He smiled at your touch, almost leaning into your hand as he looked back at you, “Anything for you. Now go on, I know the girls are waiting. Text me if you need anything, and I mean anything y/n. I’m not that far of a drive.” You let out a sigh as you undid your seatbelt, “Honestly Matt, nothing to worry about, I’ll be fine.” You blew him an air kiss as you exited the car, heading into the first bar of the night. Matt sat and watched you show your ID to the man at the door, waiting until he saw you get inside safely to drive away.

As promised, Matt arrived at Cooper's around 12:45. He was thankful that you and your friends chose to end your nights at a bar that wasn’t too crazy, but also not too crowded that he might be recognized. Just to be safe he threw on a hat to shield his face as much as he could, though the bar was so dark he doubted anyone would be able to make out his face in the crowd.

He handed his ID to the bouncer before making his way inside. He texted you a simple “I’m here”, you would know his typical meeting place and where to go. You were in the restroom when Matt texted, quickly replying “bathroom, be right out” before you sighed as you stared blankly at the wall. The line in the girls restroom always 100 times longer than it was for the guys.

Matt didn’t mind waiting, he checked some scores on his phone. Assuming that the line was long since girls love to use the buddy system when going to the bathroom. He scanned the crowd and enjoyed people watching, nodding his head and smiling softly as your friends gave him a wave from across the bar. He checked the time again, before glancing over towards the hallway to find you pushing past a crowd of girls to exit the restrooms. He chuckled to himself as he saw the frustration on your face, knowing you probably waited 20 minutes just to pee. He started to walk towards you but fell back as he noticed a guy stop you in your tracks.

“Can I help you?” You looked at the man a bit confused, you’d recognized him from the crowd of people, but hadn’t interacted with him much. He was out with a group of guys for someone’s birthday. You only knew that because they mentioned it to you and your friends at least 30 times. Definitely trying to help the birthday boy get laid. “I noticed you’d left your friends, I thought maybe my shot at getting to buy you a drink was gone.” You chuckled to yourself, why does this have to happen in front of Matthew?

“Oh, yeah, I’m actually on my way out. So, maybe another time. Sorry.” You try to excuse yourself but he moves with you, cutting you off. “Oh come on, one more drink isn’t gonna hurt anyone. Or if you want we could go somewhere else, just the two of us and get a drink.” He had a cocky grin on his face as you looked at him in disgust. He was clearly drunk, and wasn’t keen on taking no for an answer. You looked at Matt standing just a few feet away, a concerned look on his face as he wasn’t sure what was going on.

“Look, I’m not interested, okay?” He scoffed as he seemed to be a bit insulted by your comment. “Not interested, you and your friends were dancing right up against our group all night. I saw the way you were eyeing all of us guys, I’d say you were interested sweet heart.” You gagged at the smell of alcohol on his breath as he got closer to you. “Yeah news flash buddy, it’s a small fucking bar. My option was dancing right next to people or on the bar.”

As you tried walking past him to get to Matt, you felt a tight grip on your wrist pull you back, “That sounds hot, can you put on a show just for me?” His hands attempted to grab more than just your wrists but before you could react Matt was already stepping in, pulling the guy away from you and pinning him to the wall by the collar of his shirt. “Don’t you dare fucking touch her like that.”

You were a bit taken aback at the way Matt stepped in. Sure he’d protected you from dumb drunk guys before, but never like this. His jaw clenched as his grip tightened on the collar of the man’s shirt. “And what the fuck are you gonna do about it huh? What are you her little brother or something? Ain’t no way you’re banging a bitch like that.” Matt’s grip tightened on his collar as he pushed him harder into the wall, “what did you just call her?!” His voice louder, drawing a bit of attention, thankfully none yet from the bouncer.

“A bitch, and what are you gonna do about it?” The drunk dumbass laughed in Matt’s face and you knew this wouldn’t end well.

Before you could step in, Matt’s fist connected with the guy's jaw, causing him to stumble to the floor. Before pulling himself together and running off to the restroom.

“Fuck!”

Matt shook his hand as he winced, immediately realizing he fucked up but his anger got the best of him. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” You grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door. Thank god no one seemed to really notice the altercation that just took place.

The walk to the car was quiet as Matt was still fuming, you simply climbed into the passenger in silence. He gripped the steering wheel tight with his good hand as he peeled out of the parking lot. You sat next to him, studying his face to see when it might be a good time to say something. Blue and purple started to appear across the knuckles on the hand that threw the punch as he let out a large sigh.

“I’m sorry.”

You let out a soft laugh as you rested a hand on his thigh, softly holding his bruised hand, careful not to hurt him. “Sorry for what? You didn’t do anything wrong? You stepped in as I would’ve hoped you would the second that guy put his hands on me. Don’t be sorry for that!” He seemed to relax at your touch, so you kept your hand on his, slowly brushing your thumb over his skin to attempt to calm him down.

The rest of the car ride was quiet, the two of you heading back to Matt’s apartment since he had to be up early for practice. You kept your eyes on him, studying the look on his face, wishing you were in his head to know what the heck he was thinking. He took your hand in his as you two walked through the quiet parking garage, then headed up the elevator.

You knew your way around his place, first going to his room to grab an oversized t-shirt to throw on before heading to the bathroom to take off your makeup. Matt was sweet enough to go out and buy you your own toiletries to keep at his place. Including your makeup remover and even your 4 step skincare routine.

Matt came to join you in the bathroom as you brushed your teeth. He smiled at the sight of you as he leaned against the wall: your hair in a messy bun, his oversized Seattle Thunderbirds t shirt covering you up enough while still giving him a good view of your legs. “What?” You chuckled as you tried not to choke on the tooth paste threatening to fall from your lips. He just shook his head, “Just glad nothing bad happened to you tonight. I’m glad I was there.” He took your hand, his fingers fiddling with yours, “I just kept thinking what if i wasn’t there, I couldn’t handle it if anything would’ve happened.”

You looked at him in the mirror, relief and exhaustion covered his face. “I’m really glad you were there too, but I really hope we don’t end up with a possible scandal on our hands.” You started laughing as you exited the bathroom, Matthew following suit. “New York Rangers rookie Matthew Rempe gets in a bar fight over a girl.” You spoke in a sarcastic newscaster voice as you made your way to the freezer, grabbing a bag of frozen peas to tend to Matt’s fist bearing the proof of his heroic actions at the bar.

Matt chuckled along with you before wincing at the feeling of the cold bag on his hand, “If it happens, so be it, I was ready to knock that son of a bitch out after what he said to you.” You shot him a glare, “Matthew Rempe. Absolutely not, I am not worth you getting in trouble with the team because of a dumb bar fight.” He walked over to you, now the one shooting you a glare. His arms rested on either side of your waist as he gripped the edge of the counter. “Y/n, yes you fucking are.” You shot him a look as he swiftly picked you up and sat you on the island in front of him. A cocky grin coming across his face at how caught off guard you were, gripping his biceps tight as his hands now moved to rest on your thighs. “I’d fight 20 guys at the bar if they put their hands on you and said shit like that guy tonight.” His tone now more serious, his smirk fading as you two stared at one another for what seemed like an hour. The voice in your head screaming at you, this is your what if moment. Take it or leave it, but it may never come again. What if he’s trying to confess his feelings, what if he’s trying to make a move but he’s too scared. What if you just beat him to the punch. What if-

Before your brain could even rationalize a thought or an action, you felt Matt’s lips crash into yours. His hands cupping your face as yours snaked up his neck to grab a handful of his hair. The kiss like fireworks and a weight being lifted off your shoulders all at once. He began to smile into the kiss, before pulling away with a slight laugh.

“Oh yeah, that’s exactly what every girl wants. The guys she’s been dreaming of kissing to pull away laughing!” You rolled your eyes and frowned at him as a look of shock washed over his face. “Been dreaming of kissing huh??? I knew it!” You immediately turned red, covering your face with your hands, though Matt found it extremely cute.

His hands gripping your thighs before lifting you off the counter, “It’s okay, i get it. I’m sure there’s lots of girls out there who dream of kissing me.” “Matt! Shut up!” You laughed as he carried you down the hall into his room, tossing you on the bed while he finally changed out of his jeans and sweatshirt. “Hey, listen…if you’re interested, maybe we could work something out so that you can be the only girl who gets to kiss me from now on. How does that sound?”

You barely heard him, too busy staring as he stood in just his underwear in front of you. Your eyes tracing every detail of him before his laugh interrupted your thoughts. “Damn, one kiss and all of sudden you’re just head over heels huh?” You pull a pillow over your face out of embarrassment as you feel the bed sink beneath his weight. Matthew now hovering above you as he pulls the pillow away from your face.

He brushed some hair from your face as your fingers play with his chain hanging from his neck, “you really want to kiss me and only me from now on?” You blushed as he shook his head laughing at you, “of course you goof! That’s all I’ve wanted for like the last 5 years, probably even longer!” You felt yourself trying to fight a smile, though you were sure your cheeks were bright red, letting Matt know you liked his response.

He laid next to you as you continued to play with his chain, now resting on his chest. His thumb tracing circles on your thigh as you smiled like a dork to yourself, your heart bursting with excitement that all your what ifs had come true.

“So if I agree to this-“ you say up, trying to pull a serious face as you looked down at him. His hands still glued to your thighs, as if he couldn’t get enough of touching you now. “Do I get a cute custom Rempe jean jacket or something to wear to your games? Like I wanna be decked out and I want people to know that I'm the only girl you’re kissing from now on.” Matt rolled his eyes and laughed at your change of tone, as you babbled on and on about your ‘conditions’ should you agree to this. But he loved the thought of you in a Rempe jacket at his games, getting to see afterwards and kiss you like crazy after a big win, to have you be his biggest fan cheering him on every night. Even though you already were, now it would be more special.

“Listen.”

Matt cut you off as he pulled you into his lap, his hand pulling your face to his as he kissed you. This time the kiss was soft, as he took his time to really take in the feeling of finally getting to kiss you and be this close to you. “If you be my girlfriend, I’ll get you whatever jacket you want, I’ll get you the best seats at the Garden for my games, you name it. Just make me the happiest guy ever and be my girlfriend!” You laughed at how he begged like a little kid who couldn’t contain their excitement.

“Yes-“ you peppered his face with a hundred kisses, “Matthew Rempe, I would absolutely love to be your girlfriend.”

[watchmegetobsessed]

WING IT

A/N: we are slowly getting more content, lets just hope something drops soon!

WORD COUNT: 3k

SUMMARY: It's your first day working in Selma's Home, you're nervous enough already, but when an emergency calls your boss away and you're left alone, the situation is topped when famous CEO Harry Styles casually strolls in.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

It doesn’t matter that this job is just an in-between. Something that earns you money until your dream position opens. A first day is always stressful, especially when you have no idea what to do.

You were applying to dozens of jobs at once, just shooting everywhere you could, hoping to get an answer back before your rent was due. Selma’s Home was the first one to invite you for an interview and somehow, miraculously you even got the job despite the fact that you have no experience in retail. You suspect that desperation was a big factor in your hiring, because Selma lost 2 of her employees at once when the young couple that was working for her moved across the country. 

Now here you are, walking into the store, nervously fidgeting with your fingers as you head down the aisles where you see Selma behind the cash register already getting ready to open.

“Hi!” you greet her, her head snapping up at your weak voice. Selma is such a fierce, kind of intimidating woman, but you can see how it helped her to open this store and make it one of the most successful home decor stores in the city, offering tasteful stylish pieces along with practical utility items for one’s home. 

“Oh, hi! Welcome to your first day, you ready?” She even cracks a smile, but somehow it just makes you gulp hard.

“Yeah, readier than ever!” you manage to squeeze out a nervous chuckle, hoping she doesn’t sense your jitters.

“Alright, then let’s get started.”

With an hour until opening Selma is eager to squeeze in as much information into it as possible. She walks you through the store, talking about the most important items, but also handing you a handbook about everything that’s currently selling in the store.

“Use your downtime to roam around and you’ll learn them by the end of the week without the handbook,” she says, eyes running over the shelves as she is talking, already moving to the storage room in the back. 

She talks about the system, how to unload the new arrivals every two weeks and then you move on to the cash register, aka your biggest fear. It’s quite the stress factor to deal with money, making sure everything is neat and correct, you can only hope you won’t mess it all up.

Then the store opens and you follow around Selma to learn the ropes. What’s different here is that whenever a customer comes in you offer them help right away and if needed, you assist them throughout their whole time shopping. There are quite some designer products selling and you’ll need to know everything about them to be able to sell them to the customers just like Selma does.

She is so good at it. No matter who comes in, she so effortlessly talks them into leaving with not only what they came for, but some more as well. She is enchanting, nice, open and warm and you just keep taking notes mentally, though you don’t feel confident enough to be as charming as she can be the moment the bell rings above the door. 

When lunch rolls around you allow yourself to feel relieved for a second that you survived half the day already. Selma sends you to the back to have your lunch and you just sit in silence, staring ahead of you, mustering up all your energy for the rest of the workday. You’ve just finished your sandwich when Selma barges into the breakroom.

“Y/N, there’s a bit of an emergency.”

You jump to your feet, scenarios already running through your mind. Is there a fire? Did the storefront just collapse? Someone stole those hella expensive Japanese tablecloths? 

“What happened?”

“My daughter, she is ugh! Such a menace, she got into trouble at school, so I have to go there. I need you to cover for a bit, just an hour tops, I swear!” 

She is already grabbing her purse, pushing her sunglasses to the top of her head, car keys in hand while you just stand there dumbfounded. Is she actually gonna leave you alone in the store on your first day?

“Selma, I-I don’t…”

“You do, Honey. Just an hour. This is a dead time anyway, if anyone comes in, just try your best to help them and ring them up at the end. Easy, I know you can do it!”

She is storming out and you follow her like a lost puppy.

“B-But what if I mess something up?” you ask, panic setting in. 

“As long as you don’t set the store on fire, you’ll be fine. I trust you, Y/N!”

And with that, she is already gone, the bell rings above the door as you stand there like a statue. 

You watch the storefront in pure panic, your stomach dropping every time it seems like someone is approaching the shop, but no one comes in. 

Until the bell rings above the door. 

For a split second you hope it’s Selma, but looking up you see a tall, broad figure and your heart threatens to burst right out of your anxiety filled chest, at first because hello! It’s a customer! But then as he steps further into the shop and takes off his sunglasses, realization settles in. 

This is not just a regular customer, this is Harry Fucking Styles, CEO of Pleasing Productions, the studio that’s given the world the absolute best romantic movies in the past decades and the man is famously known for being a ladies favorite, but appearing as a total mystery in the media. 

You’ve read about him a lot before, it’s hard not to bump into his name online, thanks to his looks he is always somehow in talk for either having dinner with a model, appearing on the red carpet looking like a fucking snack, or, your personaly favorite, declining giving an answer to a question regarding his private life. 

And now he is standing there, looking around the store. 

It takes a couple of moments for you to push out of this frozen state and finally step forward.

“Hello!”

Wow. Did your voice actually sound like that?

Clearing your throat you keep moving towards him.

“Hi, can I help you with anything?”

You try to rake your mind to remember everything you’ve seen and heard from Selma to use now, but the moment he looks up, your mind goes blank. He is just as beautiful as he looks in pictures or maybe even more. Unlike on those red carpet photos where he is always dressed in designer suits, now he is wearing a pair of simple pants and a gray long sleeve, his hair is a bit tousled and it appears he is growing his beard out, a bit shaggy, but he makes it look very… hot. That’s all you can say looking at him.

“Oh, hey!” He is sporting a polite smile as he looks up, about to keep talking, but he stops for a moment upon looking at you and he stops.

Everything stops. 

It’s as if he is taking you in, you can feel your cheeks heating up, the nervous fidgeting starts again, but you hide your hands behind your back so he doesn’t notice. 

“I’m looking for some kitchen stuff,” he then says, hiding his hands in his pockets. 

“Great!” you breathe out. “We do have… those.”

You flinch internally, but ignore just how awkward you are in his presence. 

You ask him about what he needs specifically as the two of you start walking down the isles and for a moment you think of grabbing the handbook, but that would look awful, so you make a decision on the spot.

You’re gonna just wing it. 

What could go wrong? You’ll just pretend like you’re Selma, confident and know everything about the items, you’re gonna say whatever comes to your mind and just… wing it. 

All while ignoring how attractive this man is up close. And intimidating. And charming. And…

“I think I want to check out the coffee stuff first,” he suggests and nodding you walk him over to the kitchen items.

“Do you have a coffee machine and you’re looking for some accessories, or…”

“I just got one of those old fashioned moka coffee pots,” he says with a boyish smile. “But I want to get that to the next level, if you know what I mean.” You do not.

“Of course,” you smile, eyes scanning over the shelves. 

Your grandmother has one of those old moka coffee makers, but you have absolutely no idea what else could be used for those, so you just start grabbing things and making up what they are used for. 

One after the other, you just keep showing him stuff with no idea what you’re talking about, but the longer you’re talking the more confident you’re growing, especially when he just keeps nodding and humming along to anything you say. 

“So… which one are you more interested in?” you ask at the end of your little speech. You look at him and find him already looking at you with a tiny smile curling up the corners of his mouth. 

“What can you tell me about those?” he asks, ignoring your question and just moving to another shelf. 

He keeps asking about items and you just make up everything as you go. Of course, you know some of the stuff, but you were never really a true chef in the kitchen, so there are way too many items you don’t know that much, but somehow, you’ve gathered enough confidence that even you believe what you say. 

Slowly, Harry fills his basket as you move through the store and every time you look at him you catch him already looking at you with the same smile you can’t quite decipher. 

“What about those?” he points up at a set of plates on the top shelf.

“Oh, those are so pretty! Let me show you them!” you enthuse and run to grab the ladder from the back. 

It’s not the steadiest tool for sure, but you ignore the wobble you feel when you start climbing it.

“Are you sure it’s–”

“It’s fine, don’t worry,” you chuckle, reaching the top step, but your knees are definitely shaking. You focus on grabbing the plates and getting off as fast as possible, but right when you take them off the shelf you already feel yourself losing balance. 

But Harry is quick to come to your rescue. One of his hands grabs the ladder to steady it and the other… the other one grabs the back of your thigh to help you hold yourself up. Until then you were shaking because of the ladder, but now it’s definitely because of his firm hold on you, the warmth of his touch and the thoughts that unrelease when you realize just how perfectly his fingers are digging into your flesh. 

“You good?” he asks in a deep, husky voice. 

“Yeah.” Your voice is barely more than just a whisper as you hold onto the plates as if they could hold you up. 

You start moving down on the ladder, but Harry’s hand doesn’t leave your body, it works up on your hips and waist, grabbing onto your elbow as you finally step onto the ground and even then, he is still touching you, his eyes locked on yours as you’re still holding those damn plates. The image of dropping them and pushing up against him flashes through your mind and your knees wobble again when you catch his gaze flickering down to your lips for a second. 

“The plates,” you blurt out then. He looks down and a smile stretches across his face.

“They really are pretty.”

“Right?” you let out a breathy laugh. 

“Now that you risked your life for them, I guess it’s only fair if I actually buy them.”

Fuck, your heart is about to jump right out of your chest, how is he so smooth?

You gather a few more things and then move to the cash register to ring everything up. 

“How long have you been working here?” he asks, patiently waiting for you to finish. 

“Um… Do you want the truth?” you ask, with a cheeky smile.

“Yeah.”

“This is my first day,” you admit, just as you finish the scanning and when you look at the amount it all added up to, you almost choke on your own saliva. “Um, your total is 1630.”

For a moment you think he’ll question how it’s so much, but without hesitation he whips out his card and taps it on the terminal.

“First day, huh?”

“You wouldn’t have guessed?”

“Oh, I kind of did,” he chuckles and he starts to help you with putting everything away in bags. “You really should learn what the items are used for.”

Normally you’d be embarrassed that he noticed how much you just made up, but the smile he is gifting you with vanishes all negative feelings and you can actually find it funny. 

“I will.”

“Thank you for your assistance,” he smirks, grabbing the bags from the counter. “And if I happen to leave a review about the excellent service, what name should I drop?” 

“I’m Y/N,” you say with a sheepish smile. He then sticks his hand out and you take it.

“Harry. It was really nice meeting you.”

“You too.”

With a final wave he turns around, slides his sunglasses back to the bridge of his nose and then walks out of the store. You stand there completely overwhelmed by the experience and you have no idea how much time passes by before Selma barges through the door.

“Hi Darling! How did everything go?” she beams, walking up to the counter where you’re still standing. 

“Great!”

“Did anyone come in?” 

“Yeah. Harry Styles was just here.” Selma freezes for a moment before looking up at you.

“Harry Styles? As in…”

“Yeah. That Harry Styles.”

“How did it go? Did he buy anything?”

“He spent 1600 dollars on kitchen stuff.”

“Y/N, that’s great!” Selma claps her hands. “Was he satisfied? Could you help him?”

“I think I could,” you say with a knowing smile. “He seemed… satisfied, yeah.”

The first day jitters are luckily gone by the next day, especially because Selma looked at you with so much pride after you told her about your encounter with Harry that you feel like you can’t do anything wrong. 

Before lunch Selma asks you to rearrange some stuff in the storage and you’re a bit relieved you don’t have to take any customers for now.

But because of that, you’re not out when one specific person walks into the shop. Again. 

Harry enters the store confidently, a smile already on his lips as he looks in the direction of the cash register, but it fades when he only sees Selma, but no sight of you. Selma, on the other hand, becomes ecstatic when she sees and recognizes him.

“Welcome! How may I help you?” she chirps, walking towards Harry, who is still looking around, eyes searching for you. 

“Hey, is the… Is the woman who worked yesterday here? Y/N?” Selma stops, surprised.

“Y/N? Uh, yes, but she is busy now, I’m sure I can help you–”

“I want her,” he states.

“She is still training, I’m sure I can–”

“Look,” Harry sighs. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Selma, the owner,” she states proudly.

“Selma, I’m more than happy to buy everything in this store if it means I get to talk to her. How does that sound?”

Selma stares back at him, finally understanding the situation. Her stance changes instantly.

“Let me go get her for you.”

You’re going over your list in the back when Selma appears, her spotless appearance feels odd in the storage room’s setting. 

“Oh, hey! I just finished with–”

“I need you outside.”

“What? Why?” Panic washes over you, because you can’t read her face and what could she possibly need you for outside on your second day?

“Just come. Now!” She turns around and heads out, not even checking if you’re following her. Of course you do.

“Selma, what did I–” you start mumbling behind her, but just when you step out and spot Harry at the cash register.

His face lights up the moment he sees you and those damn butterflies start raging in your stomach. 

“Harry, you’re here. Again,” you state the obvious. 

“I am,” he chuckles and you see Selma walk away from the corner of your eyes. 

“How, um–What can I… help you with?” you ask, clearing your throat. Why is he here? Could it be… because of you? Yesterday you definitely spent an awful lot of time daydreaming of the way he was touching you on that ladder and you’d be lying if you said you felt disappointed he just walked out, knowing you might never see him again. 

Well, so much for that.

“I forgot to get something yesterday.” 

“Oh,” is all you can say, the disappointment snaking back into your gut. He is not here because of you, how could you even think about that?

Harry’s smile widens as he watches your face drop and then he finally continues.

“Your number.”

Your eyes widen and you must look quite funny, because Harry chuckles at the sight of your expression. 

“Was this too straight forward?”

“No!” you snap right away, maybe a bit too eagerly. “Not at all.”

“Great, then…”

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and hands it over, you type your number in quickly and hand it over. He taps on the screen and a second later your phone starts buzzing in your back pocket.

“Just checking you didn’t give me a pizzeria’s number,” he jokes, making you laugh. “And… now that I’m conveniently here, maybe you can show me some more stuff.”

“What do you need?” you ask as the two of you head down one of the aisles. 

“Hmm, how long is your shift?”

“Um, another four hours,” you scoff.

“Then I guess I’m interested in everything. Whatever takes four hours to look at so I can take you out once you’re done.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[nickeverdeen]

Hi could you do a five hargreeves x female!reader where reader is normal and doesn't have powers but she's a genius and basically has a photographic memory, and she meets five and he's a bit mean and snarky but eventually he starts to fall for her

I also think it would be funny if she was kinda best friends with Klaus and he kinda teases her about five, but you don't have to include that

Guns And Brains | Five Hargreeves x genius fem!reader

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x fem!reader, Klaus Hargreeves x fem!reader (best friend)

Warning: None

PS: Sorry for the unoriginal title

———————————

You were used to being the smartest person in the room. It wasn’t arrogance; it was simply a fact. Your photographic memory allowed you to absorb and recall information with an almost eerie accuracy. In school, you never needed to study, and in life, you rarely encountered a problem you couldn’t solve. You had grown accustomed to the bemused looks and occasional irritation that came from people who found your talents either intimidating or annoying.

Yet here you are, standing in the middle of an ancient-looking mansion, face-to-face with a boy who exuded an air of superiority that rubbed you entirely the wrong way. Five Hargreeves—if you remembered correctly from the vague mentions in tabloids about the dysfunctional Umbrella Academy—was a strange, prodigious enigma. He looked like a teenager, but there was something in his eyes that suggested he was anything but.

From the moment Klaus had introduced you, you could sense the tension brewing. It wasn’t just the way Five had narrowed his eyes at you, or the clipped tone he used when addressing you. It was the challenge in his gaze, the unspoken assertion that he was smarter, quicker, better. The way he practically dared you to prove him wrong.

“Who’s this?” Five had asked, his tone flat and disinterested, as if your presence was more of an inconvenience than anything else.

“This is Y/N,” Klaus had said cheerfully, apparently oblivious to the storm clouds brewing between them. “She’s got a brain like a supercomputer—remember everything she’s ever read, seen, or heard. Thought she might be able to help us out.”

Five’s eyes had flickered with something—annoyance, skepticism, you couldn’t quite tell. “We don’t need help,” he’d said brusquely. “Especially not from someone who thinks they can waltz in and solve problems that are far beyond their understanding.”

And there it was—the gauntlet thrown down. You had felt your spine stiffen, your own competitive streak flaring up in response. You didn’t like the way he assumed you were just some book-smart outsider with no practical experience, especially when he hadn’t even given you a chance to prove otherwise.

“I’m not here to solve your problems,” you replied, your tone sharp. “But from what I’ve heard, you could use all the help you can get.”

Klaus had tried to mediate, sensing the tension. “Alright, kids, play nice. We’re all on the same team here.”

But you had seen the look in Five’s eyes—a mix of condescension and irritation. He clearly didn’t think much of you, and that was something you weren’t about to let slide. If there was one thing you despised, it was being underestimated.

The first few days in the mansion were… interesting, to say the least. Klaus had introduced you to the rest of the siblings, all of whom had their own unique quirks and issues. Luther was stoic and serious, Allison was kind but guarded, Diego was intense, and Viktor was quiet, almost withdrawn. They were an odd bunch, but in some ways, you felt more at ease with them than you did with Five.

Five, on the other hand, seemed determined to make you feel unwelcome. Whenever you offered a suggestion, he’d shoot it down without a second thought. When you tried to engage him in a discussion about the theories he was working on, he’d dismiss your opinions with a wave of his hand, as if your thoughts were nothing more than background noise.

It was infuriating.

At first, you tried to stay calm. Your reminded yourself that you were here to help, not to butt heads with a stubborn man who had likely seen more in his lifetime than you could ever imagine. But as the days passed, you found your patience wearing thin.

The breaking point came one evening when you were all gathered around the dining table, discussing the latest anomaly that Five was trying to unravel. He was pacing back and forth, spouting off calculations and theories at a rapid pace. The others were listening intently, but you could see the confusion in their eyes.

“Maybe if we adjusted the parameters slightly,” you suggested, your tone measured, “we could account for the temporal flux and—”

Five cut you off with a snort. “That’s a ridiculous idea. Adjusting the parameters would only destabilize the entire equation. You clearly don’t understand the complexities of time travel.”

Your jaw clenched. “And you clearly don’t understand the value of listening to other people’s input. Just because you’ve traveled through time doesn’t mean you know everything.”

Five stopped pacing and turned to face you, his expression cold. “I’ve spent decades—decades—working on these equations. You’ve been here for a week. Don’t presume to know more than I do.”

The room went silent. The others exchanged uneasy glances, but you didn’t back down. You were tired of Five’s arrogance, tired of him treating you like you were some naive child who had wandered into his domain.

“Maybe I don’t know more than you,” you said, your voice steady. “But I’m not an idiot, and I’m not going to stand here and let you treat me like one. If you’re so confident in your theories, then why not test them? Or are you afraid that someone else might actually have a better idea?”

Five’s eyes narrowed. “Fine,” he said, his tone icy. “Let’s test it. And when it fails, you can stop wasting our time with your half-baked theories.”

You didn’t respond. You simply nodded and turned your attention back to the problem at hand, determined to prove him wrong.

The next few days were tense, to say the least. You and Five worked together, but it was clear that neither of you were happy about it. Every interaction was laced with sarcasm and thinly veiled insults. Yet, beneath the hostility, there was a grudging respect forming, though neither of you would admit it.

Despite his arrogance, you couldn’t help but be impressed by Five’s intellect. He was brilliant, there was no denying that. His mind worked at a speed that rivaled your own, and his knowledge of temporal mechanics was unmatched. But he was also infuriatingly stubborn, refusing to consider any idea that wasn’t his own.

For his part, Five found himself both annoyed and intrigued by you. You were smart—smarter than he’d initially given you credit for. Your insights were often sharp and on point, even if he was loath to admit it. But what bothered him the most was how you challenged him, pushing back against his authority in a way no one else dared to. It was unsettling, and yet… he found himself drawn to it.

One afternoon, as you were pouring over another set of calculations, you suddenly spoke up.

“I’ve been thinking,” you said, not looking up from the paper in front of you.

“Dangerous,” Five muttered under his breath, but there was no real bite to his words.

You ignored him. “You’re right about the temporal flux destabilizing if we adjust the parameters too much. But what if we didn’t adjust them directly? What if we introduced a stabilizing agent that could counterbalance the fluctuations?”

Five paused, considering your words. It wasn’t a completely ridiculous idea. In fact, it was… interesting. But he wasn’t about to let you know that.

“It’s a long shot,” he said instead, his tone dismissive.

“Maybe,” you conceded. “But it’s worth a try. Unless you have a better idea?”

Five scowled, but there was no real heat behind it. “Fine. We’ll try it your way. But don’t get used to it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied, a small smirk playing on your lips.

As you worked together, there was a noticeable shift in the air between you two. The barbs were still there, but they were less sharp, the insults less cutting. It was as if you were beginning to acknowledge each other as equals—rivals, perhaps, but with a mutual respect that was slowly, begrudgingly, forming.

Weeks passed, and the initial tension between you and Five began to ease, replaced by a rhythm of sorts. You still bickered, still challenged each other at every turn, but there was a camaraderie in it now. A strange, twisted camaraderie, but camaraderie nonetheless.

The others noticed it too. Klaus, in particular, found endless amusement in your interactions, often teasing you about your “little crush” on Five.

“Admit it,” Klaus says with a grin. “You two are just one good argument away from kissing.”

You roll your eyes, brushing off his comments, but you couldn’t deny that there was a certain… tension between you and Five. Not that you would ever admit it out loud. The last thing you wanted was to give Five the satisfaction of knowing he got under your skin in more ways than one.

But the turning point came one evening, when you were working late in the mansion’s library. The room was dimly lit, the only sound the soft rustle of papers as you pored over your latest set of equations. You were focused, your mind fully absorbed in the problem at hand, when you felt a pair of eyes on you.

You looked up, only to find Five watching you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, neither of you spoke. There was something in his gaze, something that made your heart skip a beat.

“What?” You asked, your voice softer than you intended.

Five hesitated, as if weighing his words carefully. “You’re not as annoying as I thought you were.”

It wasn’t exactly a compliment, but coming from Five, it was close enough. You felt a small smile tug at your lips. “You’re not as unbearable as I thought you were either.”

Five’s lips quirked up in the faintest hint of a smile. “High praise.”

You fell into a comfortable silence after that, the tension between you two shifting into something else. Something neither of you were quite ready to name.

[zivazivc]

What was Ish and Lena's relationship?

I made so much for this ask, don't look at me 🫣

The two trolls had a short summer romance at a "no boarders" music festival called Fusion Fest. Back then it was a pretty new and small thing, and the point of the festival is for trolls from all genres to come together and enjoy each other's music and company; celebrating togetherness and acceptance.

(Yes, I made a logo. 😅 This festival is a major annual event for the mixed trolls in my AU.)

Ish and his friend group went to check it out because they're already a colorful ensemble of different genres, and they were curious to see what it was about.

Lena and her friends somehow caught wind of the festival in their backwater village where nothing new or exciting ever happens, and they decided to go to rebel against their closed-minded, racist parents and community, but mostly because they were bored teenagers who'd never seen any trolls other than Rock Trolls before. Despite them wanting to experience something new, their reason for going was very much NOT the point of the festival; They were treating it more like a freakshow to stare at, and them rebelling against their parents was more just to anger them and not because they were any better...

In my mind Lena is very attractive (in a trashy, grunge kind of way), and a 16-year-old Ish immediately got a crush on her from across the room.

He put his Funk moves on her and left her completely flustered from how forward he was. I imagine he was really charming and smooth, but also I can't stop cringing and comparing it to bird mating dances lmao.

(The song Ish is singing to Lena. It makes it feel extra perfect because I just happened to learn the singer was also a 16-year-old when recording it!)

Lena didn't fall for him as hard as he fell for her at first, but she's one of those girls who will go for any bad boy that looks intimidating, and she thought funk trolls were scary and intimidating, because she was subconsciously racist herself too. 🧍 She did really start to like him after they hooked up though, and started liking him for him (so at least she was learning...)

But then they were faced with an unexpected surprise one morning after waking up from a night of concerts and partying (and mixing of substances that shouldn't be mixed)...

Ish panicked hard, he even tried getting rid of the egg, claiming it had to be a dud given the circumstances, but Lena stopped him saying she felt it move. Thank god, because Leslie hatched only minutes later.

Ish was so freaked out that he abruptly left and headed back to Funk Kingdom in the same day, and just abandoned Lena with the baby.

Lena was also very scared but she immediately warmed up to little Leslie and had no intention of dropping him off at an orphanage or doing something similar, despite her friends' encouragement to do just that, claiming her parents were going to kick her out if she showed up back home with a mixed baby.

I'm thinking Ish did try to reach out to Lena by sending her a letter a few weeks later (he got her address before the egg thing happened), but the letter never reached her because she really was disowned and kicked out of her parents' house when she came home and refused to give her baby up...

So Lena never heard from Ish again, and the next time Ish heard about Lena was about 9 years later when Leslie turned up looking for him with his baby brother, and he learned that she was gone...

(Ish having a weird day where he went out after Kymani poorly relayed a confusing phone call from the police station, and later came back home as the sole caretaker of two neglected kids.)

[daisygirlwrites]

Task Force 141 + Reader (Callsign-Crash): friendship headcanons

a/n: Hello hello! Just some random headcanons that I had written down for Crash and her relationships with the members of the 141 team. Nothing romantic, just some wholesome stuff.

original gif by @collinnmckinley

also, this is really freaking long, sorry in advance. enjoy reading! 

Before getting thrown out the window and getting her callsign, she was quiet and shy around the group. Opting to listen to others conversations, rarely adding to it.

Honestly intimidated with how tightly knit the team is, and given her previous team’s history, she was scared to get close.

Volunteered to be the DD whenever the group goes out to a bar. Fortunately, most of the time, Ghost is sober(enough) to help her get everyone into the car and into their rooms

Would silently comfort Soap and Gaz whenever they threw up, rubbing their backs and getting them water.

In the mornings after, she got everyone a breakfast burrito. Soap and Gaz are eternally grateful. Got a little information about her when they asked why she got them food. “Help with my hangovers during college.” Soap and Gaz gave each other a look as she walks away

After the window incident, Crash becomes a lot more open. Seeing how they treat her as if she has been with them for years, it wasn’t fair to them with how closed off she was.

Soap:

He talks to you a lot and you don’t mind. He just comes out and starts rambling on whatever he has interested him at that moment. You don’t really say anything, just sitting there awkwardly (because why would he want to talk to the newbie instead of his friends) but nodding to what he says anyways. One time though, he looks at you and says “Thanks for listening to me. It’s nice to have someone not tell me to ‘Shut the fuck up Mactavish.’”

Literally you after he tells you this:

“you’re my friend now. we’re having soft tacos later” vibes

Would send him memes and funny videos whenever you guys are on leave

His contact name on your phone is “Bubbles”

Would show you how to make bombs out of random shit. Set them off in bare fields or abandon buildings. Had a couple close calls

Will let you call him Johnny but you call him Mac instead.

“Aww, why not, lassie?”

“I’d rather not get my ass beat by your boyfriend.”

Calls you Lassie along with your callsign. When he wants to piss you off, he calls you Mini Ghost or Little Ghost

Like Ghost, you rarely take off your balaclava and tactical glasses

“The mask, take it off.”

“Nah, I don’t wanna.”

“You ugly?”

“Not as ugly as you old man.”

Has yet to seen you drunk though and he intends to get you there some day

Holds his hand when he’s throwing up

You would use him as a pillow during rides back to the base

The first person to tell him about any drama that’s happening in your life

Gives you advice about men

"Men are stupid, trust me, I am one."

Loves it when you would go on ramblings about the things you like. Anime confuses the hell out of him but he would always ask you about the plot and your favorite characters. He’d ask you about the current artist you listen to and has a list of recommendations from you so he could look them up when he gets home

After a mission gone wrong and believing that it was his fault, you seek him out, finding him sitting alone in the meeting room. You tell him

“It’s going to be okay. I trust you, John.”

He tears up and you wrap your arms around him.

Gaz:

With you two being the youngest, you bond over similar experiences

Sometimes share exactly one brain cell with each other. Sometimes you, Gaz and Soap share a brain cell

Brings out the chaotic gen z energy of each other

Your guys’ energy:

Follows each other on social media and would send each other tiktoks at ungodly hours

Kind of have a competition against each other to see who’s Price’s favorite child is

Gaz finally has someone who he can talk about anime with

Favorite shows to watch together: Cowboy Bebop, Samurai Champloo  and Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure

Similar music taste. The whole team listens to Queen, David Bowie, Pink Floyd and a few more others. However, Gaz and Crash have the same love of rap and indie pop. Anything they find on tiktok will be added to their shared Spotify playlist.

Gaz would ask about how college was like. He thought about going but ultimately for him, the military was the better option

“Were you part of a sorority?”

“Oh hell no. Loved going to the parties though. Always had top shelf vodka.”

“Really? Thought students couldn’t afford it.”

“When it comes to alcohol, we find a way.”

Share the same sentiment of feeling like they’re not doing enough in the team. After a particularly rough mission, you two would find a corner and just sit together in silence.

Would break the silence by quoting something from vine or tiktok and all things would be okay again

Price:

He has adoption papers ready

Crash, despite your name, is polite, respectful and responsible. Would always help Price clean up after meetings and briefs

Same with Soap, you would listen quietly to Price’s war stories and even his favorite fishing trips

Saw in your file about what happened to your old team and captain. Vows to never pull the same stunt as them

Sadden to see how you’re so young and has seen and dealt with many things already. It breaks his heart that there’s more that you’ll experience. 

You, Soap and Gaz would do dumb shit all the time but you knew when it was the right time to bail. Of course, they would snitch on you to Price. You’d rarely get in trouble though

Basically you two:

Would gift him cigars from the countries you’d visit during leave

Also a matching set of torch lighters. His has a special green flame while yours is pink. 

You don’t smoke anymore but you would hangout with him and help him finish reports together.

Price often thinks about a life where he didn’t join the military. A life of normalcy. To go to a home filled with life. 

Would have loved to have kids and technically, he still can but his job makes it almost impossible. 

But with Gaz and now you, you two are his pride and joy.

Would be the “hip” dad and will always ask about the new slang and memes

“This food is-what you kids call it...uh, busting!”

You and Gaz look at each other, “It’s bussin’.”

“This food is bussin’!”

Ghost:

Did not to want to get close to you at all. 

Was honestly peeved when Price told him that he was going to mentor you

“I don’t want to play babysitter, Captain.”

Surprised to see how short you were. All of the rumors and information he was told, they never mention your size

At first, he hated how you would follow him around like a lost puppy. 

“Leave me alone, go bother Soap or something.”

Doesn’t miss the flash of hurt in your eyes but you turn around anyways.

Before you joined, he, Price and Laswell were all sitting in Price’s office, his phone on speaker. He was reading over your file before Price’s contact said

“She reminds me of Ghost when I worked with him seven years ago.”

He looks up from the folder, Price’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise and Laswell nodding.

“I think we’ll have her transferred to us,” Price replies.

Hates to admit but he’s impressed. Thought the rumors was bullshit but you proved him wrong, time and time again

You still have a lot of things to learn and even more practice to do but he believes in you

Does not go easy. He’s merciless. Has put you down countless times and reprimanded you more. You would always leave training sessions with a new bruise. The rest of the team gets concerned with his training methods.

But you still get up and you blink away the tears whenever he shouts at you

At about five months after you joined, on a mission, you spot an enemy behind him before he does and without a word, you quickly take your knife out and throw it towards the man behind him. 

He opens his mouth to yell at you but he sees the enemy on the corner of his eye and watch him slump down. Your knife stuck in his bleeding neck

Gives you a nod after that. Pulling out your knife and handing it back to you

Knife throwing would be one of the training sessions you’d do. It was also a good time for some small chat

Finds out that you’re also a part of the “Dead Mom, Shitty Dad” club

It takes a year for him to SLIGHTLY open up to you

Told you about one of his favorite dishes his mom made and his favorite Queen song was ‘You’re My Best Friend’

Even told you how he likes his Earl Grey prepared

It scares him of how much you remind him of his mom and brother. You have her kindness and his determination. He will never tell you this

You, along with the team, become the very thing he cares about and will protect you to the best of his ability.

Bonus:

[coralinnii]

Congrats on 2.7k followers!! You deserve it! :D For the event, may I request Malleus, Azul, Jade and Floyd with a gentle giant S/O? As you can already guess, S/O is super tall (you can change this detail if you’d like, but perhaps they’d even be noticeably taller than Malleus?) and maybe even kind of intimidating because of it, but they’re very friendly, quiet, and gentle. 

Again, congratulations on your achievements!! Keep up the great work you’re doing 🥳

‧₊˚✧ My Statuesque Sweetheart ‧₊˚✧

↳ Tall Gentle Giant/Reader

feat: Malleus ❋ Azul ❋ Jade ❋ Floyd genre: fluff note: no pronouns were used with the reader, I love beluga whales (it’ll make sense in Jade’s ver.),

Sooo…being someone that can’t relate to being tall :I, I went around to ask some of my taller friends to know what’s that like, so this took longer cuz of research. I also got into Genshin to prep for another prompt someone asked me and dang, do I gotta research on that too.

Similar prompt: Tall!reader who loves hugs

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

You were certainly a surprise to him. In his long years, rarely does he find people where he doesn’t have to tilt his head down for once.

Despite your height, you were as cute and friendly as a woodland creature, a contrast to Malleus who exudes regal power without much effort. He’s fascinated by you as your stature can command the room yet your energy has a rather soothing effect on him and those around you. 

Man is saying you have zero scary dog energy, and that is adorable to him.

If you’re the affectionate type, congratulations! You’d be one of the few to be able (and allowed) to reach his horns. What started as curiosity soon became a habit as you made it your love language to care and clean Malleus’ iconic features. As a bonus, everytime you are done it’s fun to lay your head gently upon Malleus’, between his horns which catches him off guard no matter how often it happens. 

Having a tall man with money certainly has privileges as you now have access to his personal tailor as well. Was there a pair of pants you really like but it only reached your ankles? Not anymore, let the royal tailor deal with that and add some matching accessories to that. 

However you feel about your height, you are a sublime creature of beauty to Malleus. When he looks up to you smiling at him with the shining moon behind you highlighting your tall outline, he hasn’t seen anyone more otherworldly than you. 

You stand out amongst every human I have encountered. Hm? Ah, I do not refer to your stature but rather… the way you effortlessly capture my attention and ensnare my thoughts with visions of you.

Azul being around an incredibly tall person? What else is new? Azul doesn’t feel all that insecure about his height, before or after meeting you.

Well, you’re definitely the most pleasant person he knows that towers over him, at least. He knows that many, him included, would use your sort of stature as an advantage over others. Instead, he likes your rather sweet nature and way of conduct. 

If you have stretch marks due to your rapid growth spurts, Azul would feel absolutely touched if you trusted him enough to show it. Azul would genuinely praise your resilience to may have been an aching and painful experience to go through. If you let him, he could create a potion to get rid of the marks if it truly makes you insecure, but he finds you beautiful no matter what. 

Watch him flinch and get flustered anytime you wrap your arms around him, smothering him with your taller form. You would laugh to see him so easily out of sorts if you press your weight onto him. He can handle it of course, but the heat of your all-encompassing hugs is vastly different from his time in the cold sea. 

Azul would provide certain things that would suit your needs that others may overlook. Suddenly, you would find blankets that can cover you entirely, or you were gifted a coat that is actually a long coat that doesn’t awkwardly cut off at a weird length on you. Mirrors in Azul’s private room are always suspiciously up to your eye-level whenever you visit. 

He’s happy to know that you see him as someone reliable regardless of that. He has an interesting way of showing his appreciation

Do you like the new decor of the Mostro Lounge? The new additions are quite beautiful and eye-catching. The tall but dazzling designs were inspired by you, after all.

Oh my. What a sight to behold, you are. 

Jade doesn’t seem like the type to brag about his advantageous height, but he is aware that not many can reach his stature and even fewer actually pass him in that regard. 

He still treats you as courteously as he always does, even more so as the two of you start to grow closer. 

A nice bonus about having a tall boyfriend is that most of the things in his room are perfect for you! Beds you can fully stretch out in, actual full-length mirrors that don’t make you bend down, and furniture that doesn’t require you to squish yourself into. Jade’s (and Floyd’s) has become one of your favorite places to visit.

He does find it amusing that some people may find you intimidating because of your height as he knows that you were far from any definition of that word. Jade would chuckle to himself whenever he sees you getting happy or excited, like watching a playful beluga whale squeaking in joy. Your gentle features and bright smile shines through any misconceptions of your intimidating form. 

Though not quite used to it, Jade doesn’t mind having to crane his neck to meet your gaze. Especially not when he could watch your adorable quizzical expression as he asked you to lower your head to him, only to whisper teasing words into your ear. He especially finds it fun to watch you jump to your full height in flustered surprise, even occasionally bumping your head on a hanging decoration. 

Really, how could he resist you? 

Do you need rest, my love? Perhaps a cup of tea can soothe your aches and joints while you sit.

Oh, Floyd would have no issues with you being taller than him. Probably the opposite, really.

Don’t @ me but I fully believe Floyd has a thing for legs, be it his own or others. He’s so fascinated by these human features that you may even catch him blatantly staring appreciatively at your legs. 

“What’s the big deal? They’re right there, who can blame me?”

He will however, with full confidence, laugh his lungs out if you hit your head on the door frame or trip on an ottoman seat you didn’t notice. Maybe he’ll rub the ouchie away but he’ll be laughing while he does.

Be prepared for impromptu fashion shows with custom made shoes to show off your gorgeous mile-long legs. Floyd could spend hours looking through online shopping with you, showing you websites that specifically cater to tall drinks of water like yourself.

This man will be floored by the experience of being the little spoon of a hug. To be able to lean into your arms and rest his head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat while you  lovingly pat his hair? You can be unknowingly smothering him and he’ll be loving every moment of it. 

Regardless if you’re confident or not, Floyd loves to take you dancing. If you’re not confident in your dancing, Floyd is more than happy to lead you with every beat until you have fun. The man just loves to see the flashing lights paint your body, with your smile being the brightest of them all.

Did you get taller, Shrimpy? Aha ha, just pulling your leg there! Though, wouldn’t make a difference to me. You’re still a hottie even if you, hehe!

[mojoflower]

So You Want to Tumbl?

There are lots of newcomers here these days, and I thought I'd spell out how to begin and what it means to ‘curate your own dash’ for folks who haven't grown along with Tumblr for the past decade.

If you're coming from a platform where content is fed to you, Tumblr can seem barren and intimidating in the beginning.  But that's actually a good thing!  What it means is that you will see what you want to.  If you're in a fighting mood, go find political discourse.  If you're feeling fragile, make your dash nothing but art and nature.

How to begin?

You’ve made your blog and picked out your icon (seriously, choose an icon:  otherwise you’re indistinguishable from bots).  Feel free to be anonymous.  Most of us are, and it’s wonderful to have a place that’s not tied to your Real Life.  Here you can be a fandom freak (like me!) and no one judges you and your boss will never find out.

Now seek out tags that interest you.  For example, I was just looking through #moss because I like peace and green things and old-growth forests.  (And, apparently, beautifully naked fae-men, heh.)

Now you follow that tag (if it's a popular tag, it'll say how many followers the tag has, which is beneficial to know if you're making a post that you want to reach all its interested audience) and posts with that tag automatically fill your dash. Voila, you have begun to curate your experience!

Do Follow:  tags; blogs in that tag that you like; people who comment on posts in the blog/tag you follow that seem like they’re up your alley.  The more people you follow, the more varied and nuanced your dash is.

Don’t Follow:  people who make comments or posts that raise your blood pressure.  Topics that upset you.  Discourse that has you arguing in your head for the rest of the day.  PLEASE avoid toxicity.  Real Life is hard enough.

How to be Social and Interact

If you want to find your tribe and interact, it’s best to start following individual blogs.  (If you follow a blog, they have an opportunity to follow you back.  Simply following a tag is a passive, one-way street.)  To Tumbl is to be in a vast cocktail party, and you need to mingle and eavesdrop to find the things that galvanize you.

How to be seen and heard

💬Comment on posts (please always stay positive and enthusiastic:  we really try to avoid toxicity).  You can read other comments (and reblogged comments) by clicking on the notes:

🔁Reblog posts you like, both to show your support and to show other people what kind of things get you excited.  Reblogging is essential to the tumblr ecosystem, because it’s the only way posts move around and get seen.  You can also “like” posts, but that's a much more passive way to interact. Also, reblogs and your own original posts show up on your blog and prove that you're not a bot.

Create your own posts and remember that the first 20 tags you use are essential, because that’s what gets you seen (and followed) by strangers.  Tags 21-30 are good for searching and archiving on your own blog, but they don’t count on the dash.  Instructions on how to Make A Post.

Participate!  Once you find your crowd, you’ll discover that there are always things going on.  For example, in fandoms, we’ve got writing events, art events, crafting and cons.  The more you try to be involved, the more new friends you’ll discover.  Tumblr allows for such an organic community.  One person has a thought, and many others build on that thought, creating something far greater than the sum of its parts.

There is no real algorithm beyond using those first 20 tags.  This may be discouraging to folks who are used to working an algorithm, but we like it fine here, because it keeps everyone real and keeps obnoxious social climbers/capitalists out of your face.

Be patient!  Just like in real life, when you find yourself in a crowd of people you don’t know, it takes a while to form connections.  Watch and listen, and learn to read the room.  Honestly, the thing that will win you the most friends/followers is honest enthusiasm about your space.

Don’t aim for the big names to become your new buddies.  You’re more likely to find a thriving coterie among other fresh faces.  Don’t assume that because they’re small or new they have nothing to offer you.  Often, this is the fire that keeps any given corner of Tumblr going.

Tumblr Etiquette

NEVER REPOST (without explicit permission).  Reposting is when you cut and paste from someone else’s content and then make it into a brand new post under your own blog name.  That is stealing and is very condemned.  Reblogging is when you use 🔁and the OP (original poster) remains attached to their post and continues to see and be in charge of interactions.  

Reblog in addition to Liking. A post that you 'like' is static. You are not helping it to get to a broader audience. If the post or poster is something/someone you support, then REBLOG that sucker: it deserves to fly!

Reblog and add your own content.  One of the best parts of Tumblr is that you can comment on a post, or even add to it in your reblog (as long as you’re not being a dick, okay?  Or changing the topic, which is known as ‘hijacking a post’).  Here is a wonderful example of the Tumblr ecosystem at work, where someone had a thought, other people had thoughts about that thought, and then a bunch of artists jumped in.  Tumblr posts BUILD COMMUNITY, and you can be a part of that conversation.  (Do try to refrain from reblogging with vacuous comments just because you want people to notice you rather than because you actually have something to add, though.  That’s just clutter.)

The most important part of “curating your experience” is learning to Block.

You can block individual blogs, Anons, people in the comments that you find upsetting.  Here's a post on How to Block.

Block entire tags or keywords if they are triggers for you.  (Here is a post on how to do that.) 

Blocking is self-care.  It is not a platform to demonstrate to the community how much you hate someone and how they should, too.  Usually the blocked person never even knows you’ve blocked them.  If they do something egregious (like tell you or someone else to kill themselves), then ‘Report’ them.

You can block something (like #US Politics) if you can’t handle it at the moment, and then unblock it later.  Block a friend if they’re spamming something you don’t like and then unblock them later.  It’s all good!  You are in control of what shows up on your dash.

But doesn’t this mean my dash will be single-topic and boring?

The simultaneous joy and pitfall in following individuals is that MANY blogs are not single-topic.  You will be exposed to all kinds of reblogs/ideas/other people from the folks you chose to follow, and can decide for yourself if you (a) want to be involved in that topic, (b) are indifferent to that topic, or (c) want to run from it screaming.

Also, the blogs you follow will move from hobby/theme/passion over time, and you can move with them, appreciate their new topic without vibing with it, or drop them altogether.

And THIS is how you curate your dash, my friends.

***Install New XKit extension.  It’ll make your life easier!

***Here's the Tumblr Help Center, where you can learn more details.

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Surprise Pt. 3 | Soap x Reader

Summary: The boys get called out to a mission after you get injured during a game, and your past finally catches up to you.

Word Count: ~ 4k

Warnings: minor character death, guns, blood, injuries, lil bit of angst, ptsd, panic attacks, episodes, and yeah

A/N: alr I’m kinda making it up as I go, but I feel like I’m slowly getting better at making accented dialogue…hope you enjoy<3 (also thinking of making it gaz x reader x soap, or just johnny?? lmk what u think)

Requests are open!

Previous | Masterlist | Next

The longer they stayed in your home, still keeping eyes out for any of the terrorists in the area, the more they noticed some of your odd quirks.

Simon was the first to notice many of them, due to his years of experience in the military, and all of the skills he’d acquired during that time. He observed every little thing, whether it be on purpose or unconsciously.

Like how you always locked your door after entering or leaving, both locks as well. Not just one. Or the way your windows remained shut and locked, dark curtains pulled over most of them to block out any light or keep someone from looking in.

There was a knife under your pillow, and a small gun in the drawer of your nightstand. Simon would know, he’d searched the entire house when they’d first arrived, not sure if he could trust you or not. You had a gun safe in your room’s closet, and the screws on your room’s hinges were slightly unscrewed, as were every door in the house, so it would creak every so slightly when opened. So you could locate everyone in the house.

It reminded him of his habits a bit too much.

But you also had a kernel of authority to you, despite sometimes mumbling instead of speaking clearly, or the tiniest of nervous ticks he could notice, like how your lips would twitch left when unsure or insecure. Despite your stone-faced look now, you still had a few of the same tells that the little girl he’d known all those years ago did.

He only wondered what had happened to that little girl.

But he knew she’d grown up. And what he saw in you now wasn’t what he recalled from the girl he’d threatened in the past, the girl he’d intimidated and scared into staying away. Because now, you didn’t seem afraid of him at all. Not afraid of his comrades, either.

You were different in more than a few ways, now. He knew foster care had been rough on you, with god knows how many families taking you in only for money or being abusive. He barely knew the general timeline of how long you’d been in it. He’d heard tiny bits of it you’d offhandedly mentioned, and you seemed to have found a more permanent home at 12, staying until moving out here, looking for what most teenagers are, a meaning and some freedom.

But he hadn’t known just how rough it had been.

You’d gotten home from work looking beat one night, wearing some jeans, a uniform shirt, a belt, and per usual a holster for your gun. You always insisted on carrying it, and he didn’t blame you. Bad things happened to girls who lived alone here.

You didn’t even take any time to eat or change before walking into your room and collapsing into bed, asleep in a second. Work always seemed to tire you out, for whatever reason, but maybe they had you doing all kinds of shit he didn’t know waitresses did. Who was he to assume?

“She should eat dinner, at least.” Price said, watching from the couch as Johnny pouted slightly. He’d cooked a meal, especially for you, albeit Gaz had done most of the work and helped him out, basically making the entire dish, poor Soap had been waiting all day to try it.

“I can go get her?”

Kyle suggested, and Simon’s deep rumbling voice spoke up next, glancing over to your closed door, a neat “Do not enter.” sign on the front.

“She don’t like when people go in ‘er room.”

“Well, she’s breakin’ poor Soap’s heart.”

“She’s yer sister, why don’t you go get the lass.”

“She’d beat his ass, that’s why.”

Simon gave an exasperated sigh, getting up from where he’d been sitting next to Price, watching a soccer game. He approached your door, slowly opening it as it creaked. The lights were off, the room completely dark as the windows were also covered by the thick curtains you kept.

You’d made it clear that no one was allowed in your room before, but it looked normal to him. The walls were a shade of your favorite color, or what he assumed was, fairy lights with clips on them holding pictures of you and friends, and even a picture from years ago of the family, hanging from wall to wall. There was a desk at the front, papers thrown about and some neatly arranged. The clothes basket smelled vaguely of an irony tang he didn’t bother to investigate at the time.

A mirror hung on the other end of the door.

Walking quietly up to you, he watched you for a moment. Your body was deathly still, breathing quietly but a bit shaky. He could see your eyes moving beneath your eyelids, the movements erratic and frantic.

Despite himself, Simon found himself intrigued by the papers on your desk. Why had you bothered to keep them out of your room? What were you hiding? His military career kept him on his toes at all times and kept him suspicious of everyone.

After all, it was the people you trusted that could hurt you the most.

Walking silently over to your desk, he began going through papers. Gaz and Soap, now both watching through the doorway, made little hushed whispers of “Wha’ are you doing??” and “Jus’ wake ‘er up-“ that he ignored. The papers were all basic, nothing interesting.

Essays, research papers, lots of notes. But just when he thought he wouldn’t find anything, he slid open one drawer as it creaked slightly as well, finding files in it. Paper, Manila folders that were thick with information that he found himself curious about. However, just when he reached for the first one, he heard Johnny.

“Behind ye, Lt-“

The cold metal of a gun against the side of his head became more than apparent as someone kicked the backs of his knees in. A gun to his head, on his knees, with Gaz and Soap now in the room, hands up, carefully trying to approach him.

“Easy, lass. We ain’t gonna hurt ya..”

Johnny tried, and that was when Simon realized it wasn’t some enemy terrorist who had gotten in who was holding him at gunpoint, no, it was you. He hadn’t even heard you approach. Hadn’t heard you get out of bed or move at all.

But he did hear the hammer of the gun click back.

The first thought he had was that he was being betrayed. Double-crossed. Either that or you were having some sort of episode. Price approached the door, watching you like a wounded animal. Unlike Simon, he could see the way your eyes weren’t there, that you were somewhere else, in an entirely different world, doing what you thought was right.

Price slowly approached, bolder than both of the Sergeants, but with a practiced precision. He’d done this before. They could tell.

“Can you tell me who you’re pointin’ a gun at?”

He asked, voice unwavering and not full of pity, but instead understanding. He watched your eyes slowly trail from the gun to Simon, now completely still, and held a hand for Gaz and Soap to stay where they were. He could tell when the realization slowly began dawning on you, that you weren’t in danger, and that this was Simon.

A tiny click, the safety being switched on, before you took the gun from Simon’s head and set it on the floor, kicking it away from you to Price. Usually, you wouldn’t sleep with a gun on your person for this reason. By the time you would open the nightstand to grab it, you’d usually have already snapped out of it.

Sighing deeply, you slumped on the floor beside Simon as he slowly relaxed, and you curled up into a ball. You didn’t say anything, and neither did they. Price took the gun, standing and walking out of the room, giving a nod to Gaz and jerking his head to Soap as the Captain and Johnny left the room.

Kyle remained nearby, just in case, but didn’t say anything.

“Didn’ know you had it in ya to hold a gun to my head,” Simon said, trying for a bit of humor to make you laugh, or even hear a snort in reply, or even a snarky comment about how stupid he was. When you didn’t do anything, he silently sighed.

“How often do you have ‘em?”

“Every night.”

He made a small grunt at that. He could understand nightmares a bit too well, considering the demons of his own he had. He put an arm slowly around you, and when you didn’t stiffen, he considered it okay as he slowly stood, picking you up. However, as soon as he picked you up, you mumbled something under your breath and squirmed free, standing on your own.

“Let’s get ya some fresh air.”

He said, leading you out of the room. He took one last glance at the open file drawer and decided that you had your secrets, and he had his, and it could stay like that until either of you was ready to change it.

~

Nothing had changed since that night, other than one thing.

No one tried to wake you up again.

However, you remained as sassy and slightly stoic as usual, still caring for them, and now savoring every one of Johnny’s dinners to make up for the one you’d missed that night.

When they showed up covered in blood, sweat, and tears, you would take it in stride, patching them up and grumbling about buying more medical supplies, washing their clothes, and buying razors for them because, “A beard does not suit any of you but Price.” You’d even bought food they liked, albeit making them cough up some money for it, because of the job you had at some little restaurant they’d never heard of before as a waitress. You only really worked the job on some weekends, when you weren’t on a big absence for traveling during volleyball season, or at camps.

Your manager-landlord was surprisingly lenient about it, Simon thought. But considering all the weapons you had, he wouldn’t be surprised if a little threat went a long way.

He’d always wondered what you did at those volleyball games, anyway. That was until Price spoke up about it at breakfast one morning when you hadn’t left early for practice, and Laswell had eventually just informed them to lie low until further orders came.

“You oughtta come out wit’ us, get out the house a lil’.”

Johnny had suggested, and Gaz had given a little affirming nod. Simon remained silent, quietly watching as you shook your head.

“Can’t, got games today.”

You replied without even glancing up at them, eyes on your plate of scrambled eggs and bacon. That was the usual. You always had games, training, work, or school. With a schedule as busy as that, none of them knew how you managed it, but it left little to no time for you to simply relax or hang out with them.

Johnny grumbled about something with his mouth full of eggs when Price spoke up.

“Why don’ we go watch, eh? You been havin’ me help wit’ the plans, might as well.” He suggested before taking a big bite of bacon. You paused at that, glancing up at Price, studying him, before swallowing the food in your mouth.

“I’ll think about it.” Was the only answer they’d gotten at the time, but around thirty minutes before the game, you’d texted Simon the address, which was enough of a sign for him to get the boys and head over to your school, walking in the gym and paying for their entry. Six dollars for an adult, players were free.

To be fair, they tried their hardest to dress in civilian clothes and act normal, but it was hard when their instincts screamed to check every corner, keep eyes on the windows and doors, and scan for possible entries and exits.

You and your team were already practicing by then, setting up a hitting line, one setter in the front middle, two lines of hitters taking turns, and two passers in the back row bumping the ball to the setter, who promptly set it, and the hitter smacked it over.

Many of the girls were tall, and while you weren’t too short, standing at around 5’7 now, you weren’t the tallest either. That might’ve been the reason that you were mainly a back-row passer, also taking into consideration the control you held over your hits and body as well. The other team got full court to practice before the game for 2 minutes, which must’ve been the usual around this area.

“They bette’ win this,” Gaz murmured, seated to the left of Price, who watched as another girl on the team whispered something in your ear that had you biting your lip to hold back a smile. You were close with these people, they could all tell that.

“Our lass’ got it, I’m sure.”

Johnny said, watching the other team practice while Simon did the same. Simon’s attention was then diverted back to you, as any hint of laughter or amusement faded from your expression, into the stone wall he’d come to know. With a notebook in hand, you went over something with the rest of the team as they all huddled, the coach nearby and nodding along with it as they pointed something out with a pencil in hand.

A few adjustments must’ve been made before a game of rock-paper-scissors was played between the two coaches to decide who got first serve. The other team did. Already off to a disadvantage, he thought.

You all took up your positions in the court, Simon not recognizing anyone but you, with your hair, braided tightly back by one of your teammates, and the bright red jersey everyone on your team wore. You were number 14. He vaguely remembered Johnny mentioning something about you wearing a jersey in the number 14.

You were in the top right position, tucking any stray pieces of hair that had gotten loose somehow behind your ears, before all of your team was in position. The serve was hit over by the other team, and a brunette in the back row passed it to the setter, who made the ball go in a perfect arch in your direction. You began the approach of the ball, jumping up, arm held back, and ready to spike it. The blockers for the other team jumped, ready to deflect any ball, but right when you were going to spike it, your left non-hitting hand tipped the ball over the net.

Right between the blockers.

“Cleva girl,” Gaz said with a small smirk, and Soap lowly whistled. You didn’t glance up at them, expression remaining still despite the clever move.

It hit the floor, and a whistle sounded. Your team’s point. A rotation was done, and you were serving. They watched you toss the ball up, approach, jump, and smack it down all in less than 15 seconds before you were back in your spot, ready for the ball to be returned.

“Bloody hell..” Simon said, watching the two teams volley. He didn’t know many of the rules of volleyball, only Price knew most of them because of some of your late-night conversations on strategies to use with your team, but he was pretty damn sure you were doing good.

Your team moved in fluidity with each other, and it made Simon wonder what the hell you’d been putting these girls through in those training sessions, and what your coach had been doing. It reminded him a little of his team, his Task Force. The way you all knew each other, how high a set had to be for one specific person, the way one girl would slightly skew her bumps to the left, and the setter would move accordingly, or how to interweave without bumping into one another.

And the way you held everyone together… reminded him of Price the most.

When someone messed up, you didn’t yell or look disappointed, you simply glanced at them, acknowledged them, and gave a small nod. The same when someone pulled something off well. When you won the first set, you didn’t let your team gloat in the victory for too long.

And when you were losing the second set? Your teammates got a bit skittish, sure, but the way you remained almost totally unaffected kept them together. You were the glue of the team, keeping everyone out of their heads and in the game.

The second set was lost, but the third set remained.

“They play the last one to fifteen’.”

Price informed the boys after they’d sat up a little more, on the edge of their seats, bodies taught with stress. Kyle could’ve sworn Johnny was sweating a bit.

It went over fifteen, as you had to win by two points, and it was currently 15-16. One more point and the opposing team would win. But three more points and your team would.

Price’s phone began ringing.

A harsh serve from the opposite team and the bump was skewed by an anxious redhead in the back row. It went too far to the side, and you were running for it, but it looked too far away.

Two steps away.

Price was talking quietly to whoever was calling, his work voice on. Simon was too focused on you to care about the phone.

You weren’t close enough.

One knee went down closer to the ground, and your remaining foot kicked off the ground as your body dove for it.

A grim tone from the Captain as he nodded to whatever question Gaz had asked, while he ended the call.

Only a foot away.

Your hand flattened against the ground just as the ball bounced off of it, your head smacking hard against the floor.

Price muttered something to Soap, who tried nudging Simon, but didn’t get his attention, his eyes on you.

Your team played the ball off of the save, and the opposing team lost the point. The whistle was blown while the game was 16-16, mainly because you weren’t getting up. Out cold.

Simon shot to his feet, already, heading in your direction. There was red spreading on the floor, and he was back in his family home, looking down at his mother’s crumpled body, flashes of his little nephew’s bloodied corpse, and his brother’s shredded body coming into view.

He wasn’t there fast enough, he couldn’t get to you fast enough. He had failed.

Before he could go down even a single step, Price’s hand came down onto his shoulder firmly, holding him back. Grounding him. As he turned to face the Captain, Price spoke.

“It’s Laswell. Urgent, they need us.” He spoke quietly, and Ghost could only look on as they picked up your unconscious form from the floor, a part of your blond hair dyed red with the liquid oozing from it, and carried you away.

“She’ll be alright, Lt. Let’s go,” Soap said, grabbing Simon’s hand and pulling him along like a lost puppy. Gaz and Price were talking about something in front of them as they walked out.

The moment they got to the car, Price pulled their uniforms out of the trunk.

“Jus’ in case,”

He said, tossing them to each respective man, and Price drove while the rest of them changed in the car. The moment Simon slipped his mask on, he willed himself to forget about anything regarding you.

The job came first.

~

Your head was swimming and fuzzy. Your limbs refused to cooperate properly.

You recognized your bed, the dark curtains on the windows, and the smell of your room, covered in the perfume you always wore. Your vision was blurry, too blurry to simply be from sleeping.

Swallowing, you tried to sit up, only to find your throat dryer than a desert and your limbs shaky and weak. You made a small grunt when you tumbled from the bed to the floor, vision blurring more before going slightly back to normal. As normal as it could be right now.

You heard a small female gasp and your bedroom door opened with a creak. One of your closest friends from the volleyball team, Nalani, walked in, immediately going to your side.

Her brown, bronze skin reminded you of Gaz, and her long, dark intricate braids you’d always been amazed by hung in a ponytail behind her. Sure, you two might’ve fooled around a bit a few months back, but that was behind you. Behind both of you. She was a friend, just a friend, even if friends didn’t usually share beds and know how each other tasted.

But you trusted her more than most, that was for sure.

She’d seen your scars, heard what you could tell her without endangering her life, and she hadn’t backed away. She’d embraced it with you. Even on your worst days.

“You just busted your head open, you need to stay in bed.”

She mumbled, putting you back into the bed after lifting you. She’d changed you into your favorite pair of shorts and a loose T-shirt. It was only when she began going on and on about how stubborn you were, that you noticed a blur of movement in the doorway.

You’d seen Simon’s friends leave earlier. Assumed they’d been on a mission again.

You began pushing against Nalani, and she looked confused.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Your throat was too dry and cracked. You rasped to get something out as a gun poked around the corner. A silencer on it.

“Down, get-“

You tried pushing her down, the other hand reaching for the gun in your nightstand, fingers fumbling to find it. You were too late.

A near silent shot, and there was a hole in the back of her head that you couldn’t see but knew was there. She crumpled to the ground as you tried again to grab your pistol from the nightstand drawer, only to realize that Price had never returned it after that night.

Cursing under your breath, you grabbed the knife from under your pillow, a hunting knife, and threw it, watching as it embedded itself into the man peeking around the corner’s neck.

One down.

More came, though. Too many. Your vision blurred as you heard male voices talking, a shot down by your legs, but not quite hitting.

They were trying to disable you.

Your head was throbbing, adrenaline making you forget grief in the moment. Pain exploded through your veins as you felt a bullet whiz past you, nicking your right arm. Three men stormed the room, clearing it, before one of them came into sight, kneeling to be eye level with you.

“Thought we wouldn’t find you, yes? The Wasp’s Nest is not as secure as you thought. We’ll get our retribution.”

He spoke mockingly to you, before shoving a white bag over your head. Other voices filled the room, quiet, but loud enough for your dwindling consciousness to catch.

“…useful?”

“It’ll work……able to….again.”

“…knock her..”

“Roger that..”

You felt the blunt force of the back of a gun being slammed against your head, and your vision went black.

If you’d told the truth, then maybe none of this wouldn’t have happened.

But in the end.

The job came first.

Tags:

@yearninglustfully

@kazuyatokue

@kiwibao

@kurokitty6

@sharkluver

@100percentlazybonez

[tobiotaesan]

teal jersey #04 m.j.h

synopsis: with the hopes of gaining new experiences when you enter high school, you didn't expect that you would end up as a new manager in-training for karasuno's volleyball club. and you most certainly also were not expecting you would be wearing aoba johsai's jersey on your first day in training with the first years first practice match with the team whose jersey you were wearing.

genre: fluff, haikyuu au! high school au!

pairing: aoba johsai player! myung jaehyun x karasuno manager (in-training)! fem! reader

word count: 3.6k

warning: none

"y/n, the teacher is looking for you."

the class president says as they enter the classroom, causing all eyes to fall upon you. you stood up from your seat and immediately went ahead to the teacher's faculty room. on the way there, you couldnt help but wonder what reason could there be for the teacher to summon you. it was a very rare occasion for you to be called upon by the teachers. most of the time they call for the class president, or the vice if the aforementioned isnt around, and rarely, almost never, you.

it was quite a surprise to you that the teacher even knows your name, considering how much you have tried to avoid any form of attention at school. typical introvert behaviour. however, despite your claims of invisibility, the teacher still knew of your existence. and now you cant help but wonder if you had caused any trouble at school, which is why you were being summoned. but its totally impossible as you never even leave your seat unless the class requires it, its lunch time or its time to go home. the only places you go to are your house and school, you dont go out on the weekends either. so what kind of trouble could you have gotten yourself in? you shook your head as a poor attempt to brush off your thoughts as you arrived in front of the door to the faculty room. with a deep breath, you grabbed and twisted the doorknob and opened the door.

you bow to greet the teacher sitting in the first cubicle inside as you walked in, stating your purpose of arrival. he gives you a nod and you walked in further, head turning side to side, looking for your teacher who called for you. luckily, she raised her hand for you to see and spot her easily. you picked up your pace and walked towards her desk. a small smile greets you as you arrive in front of her while you simply bowed to greet her.

"im sure you are wondering why i called for you so suddenly. to cut things short, i believe that you are the best person to be trusted with this task," now you are even more surprised.

not only does the teacher know your name and existence, they are even complimenting you and basically saying you are a reliable person. but still, confusion couldnt be erased within you, there had to be a more specified reason for whatever this task is.

"i noticed in the way you write your notes and create your outputs that you are a very organized person. very neat and clean when working and most importantly, efficient. im aware that you transferred here only just a few months ago but you seem to have adjusted quite well to your new environment pretty quickly," she pauses for a second before swivelling her chair to face you, her hands clasping togegher.

the sudden shift in the atmosphere made your heart beat increase a little and your palms start sweating. you backed up slightly in your chair, gulping as you try to maintain the eye contact with your teacher who looked quite serious you started to feel intimidated by her gaze.

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you walked out of the teachers faculty room with a storm of thoughts in your head. it seemed like such a huge responsibility but the overall demands of it wasnt anything you werent capable of doing. however, it will add up to the school workload but then again, time management was never an issue for you. so if you were to agree to it, you would surely be able to manage everything on your plate.

oof.

a wall in the middle of the hallway?

"oh? hey, youre the first year that yachi was talking about," the long-hair tied in a half-up lad turns around and smiles at you. the wall in the middle of the hallway.  he stood about the same height as you are with only about half an inch difference.

"im sorry? yachi?" you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

you try to think of anyone who went by the name of yachi but couldnt put a face on it. and then suddenly, the face of a bubbly blonde bob cut third year senior asking to talk to you the other day comes to mind. she was chasing after you at the school gate and was catching her breath the entire time she spoke to you before enthusiastically saying something along the lines of looking forward to hearing your response before dashing away. it all happened way too quickly that she didnt notice you were wearing headphones and barely heard anything she was telling you. basically, you didnt understand anything she said besides the last part and since she ran away right after, you were too stunned to think of chasing after her to ask her to repeat what she said.

"huh? you dont know yachi? she told me she talked to you the other day. actually, im here to look for you because she told me you havent given her a response yet."

"oh, she did talk to me the other day but i was wearing my headphones and couldnt hear anything she said. and when i took them off my head she suddenly ran away so i wasnt able to ask her to repeat what she told me," you explain.

"typical yachi, she was actually too scared to talk to you thats probably why she immediately ran away as soon as she finished talking. by the way, my name is yamaguchi, im also a third year who plays for our school's volleyball team," he says while showing off the jersey you didnt realize he was wearing. volleyball team, huh? so he's related to what your teacher talked to you about.

"then youre probably here to ask me about being the new manager of the team, right?"

"yeah! oh, how did you know?" he tilts his head in confusion.

"the teacher just told me about it. ill think about it and tell the teacher my final decision," you replied before walking away.

yamaguchi's gaze simply follows your figure as you walk down the hallway, uneasiness filling it after a while. he was hopeful when yachi said something about finally finding a potential new manager for the volleyball team now that they are graduating, feeling determined to convince whoever it was. but now that he has talked to you, all those determination seem to have faded away and has been replaced with uneasiness. what if they arent able to convince you? you seemed like a very reserved and stiff person. and yachi was very picky with whom will replace her when she graduates as she takes this all way too seriously. plus, the teachers highly recommended you to yachi as well. the new manager has to be you.

"yamaguchi, practice starts soon. come on!" an even taller blonde buzzcut grumpily calls for him.

"tsuki, i told you to speak nicer when youre in the first years floor or else that rumor about your eyes sucking the souls out of them wont ever die down!"

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collars in place. no wringkles on the shirt. sleeves are neat. hair tightly tucked in a ponytail. and finally, a spray of a light scented perfume. with one last head-to-toe look at yourself in the mirror, you grabbed your bag and dashed out of the comfort room. you decided to accept the offer, well...kind of. a deal was offered to you as you didnt have any knowledge about the sports and how a sports club manager works. the deal was yachi showing you around and giving you an orientation of the job for a week before you can make your final decision of whether or not you would accept the position. you figured you had nothing but spare time to lose anyway and so here you are, about to meet the club's members for the first time. however, a blonde bob, you remembered as yachi, halts you by the door.

"hello, i dont know if you remember me but im the one who chased after you at the school gate last week! first of all, i would like to apologize for randmonly running after you! you mustve been surprised by a weirdo who was suddenly blabbing about joining a club without even asking if you were interested in joining one. im really sorr-" she rambles in one breath whilst bowing towards you until you cut her off.

"no! no, no, no dont be sorry! its totally fine! please, youre my senior you dont have to be so formal and bow to me. really, its all good. im assuming youre here to pick me up and take me to the gym for the orientation about being a manager of the volleyball club...?" you replied while putting your hands palms up towards her with an unsure expression. you werent expexting to see her waiting right outside the comfort room.

to be frank, you were quite excited about everything. its not often that your parents let you participate in an after school extracurricular activity but with a "mom, wouldnt it be a good addition to my leadership credentials for college applications?" you receive a hesitant approval. plus, its going to be a totally new experience, something you have promised yourself to do once you reach high school. you were always so focused on your studies ever since you were little due to your lack of friends. not that you were being treated badly by your peers, you have classmates whom you talk to at school but due to your lacking social skills, you never really got to make genuine friends whom you can talk to even outside of school about non-school related conversations. and so you promised yourself that once you enter high school, things would change.

of course, it wasnt easy. you couldnt just become a social butterfly overnight in one snap. but youve already tried so many times to befriend others and ask them to hang out after school but so far, the closes thing you got to an afterschool hang out was a group project meeting at a cafe on the weekends. you were so ecstatic at the progress and you all even had a groupchat where you all communicated. but after the projects presentation, the bond dispersed and the groupchat along with it, gone. and you are back to square one.

socializing in high school is hard. especially when majority of the people in class have already known each other since middle school. the friend groups have already been long established before and thus makes it hard to find people you can get along with it as you cant just get along with one of them, you have to be approved by everyone else from their circle to be even considered to be their potential friend. and so, when you were presented with this opportunity to become the manager of your schools volleyball club, you knew you were going to say yes. it was a good stepping stone to finally escape square one. you were determined to use this chance to finally make a friend.

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maybe you shouldve specified that 'friend' you were hoping to make when you wished for one. to say that you were flabbergasted at the sight before you was an understatement. a bunch of sweaty teenage high school boys jumping around and diving on the floor whilst multiple volleyballs fly across the net continuosly...these people are your contenders for a friend? the entire gym was full of grunting and cries of exhaustion. of course, what were you expecting? the men and women's volleyball team are separated, that makes sense. but what doesnt was how you didnt process the information that you were going to be the manager of the men's volleyball team. you shouldve known, their captain literally came to talk to you about it.

you released a breath you didnt know you were holding when you snapped yourself back to reality. theres no going back now. and besides, you have yachi by your side. she might be graduating soon but theres still a semester and a half left before that.

while you were trying to ground yourself back on earth and trying to process how youre going to survive being the manager of the volleyball club for the next two years, yamaguchi, who was disciplining the newbies of the team, catches your frozen figure by the door standing beside their current manager. his face immediately brightens at the sight of you and calls for a water break before striding towards you.

"yn! are you here to watch our practice match today?" he asks cheerfully. you were a little stunned with his sudden presence, wondering how you didnt notice him walking towards you earlier. nonetheless, you were quick to gather yourself to respond to him.

"oh, im actually here to observe yachi and the team. i wasnt informed that there was a practice match today..." you turned to yachi to raise an eyebrow to confirm which would be your first task as a new manager in training. unfortunately for you, she wasnt standing where she was just a second ago. so you turned back to the captain with an embarrased chuckle, to which he replies with a genuine laugh.

"you can take a seat beside the coaches over there, yachi might not be able to help you out a lot today because of the practice match so you can just seat and observe for now," he explains whilst pointing to a bench on the right side of the court.

"i would introduce you to the members right now but...the newbies are a little out of their minds from the nervousness of their first ever practice match since joining, the second years are busy trying to calm them down and we, the third years, are helping them with their warm ups," he adds. you understandingly nodded at his words before walking towards the coaches and introducing yourself to them. they seem to be a little on edge too, only giving you a meek nod to acknowledge your existence. so you simply sat there, quietly. completely unsure of what to do.

it was unintentional. and you really didnt have anything to say nor anyone to talk to so you ended up unintentionally eavesdropping on the conversation between the coaches who sat in front of you, emphasis on unintentionally.

apparently, the karasuno volleyball team was playing against a neighboring rival. a powerful team whom theyve built tradition with of always playing against each other for each schools newbies first practice match, aoba johsai high. now, you werent big on sports, you know them but you never really paid attention as much as others would especially in your school. however, it doesnt mean that you were in the dark about your schools "legendary freshmen," as some students would say, players who completely turned the tables and made their mark on karasuno history as a remarkable duo. you were aware of such history of the players who once played for your school.

so you couldnt really help but involuntarily learn some volleyball terminologies whilst being a student in karasuno who had a reputable volleyball team. still and all, you werent completely knowledgeable of the sports and what kind of teams there were in other schools. lucky for you, as the coaches are yappers and you were able to listen to the bits of information they had about the rival team who would be visiting your school for the practice match.

you were able to gather that, aoba johsai was apparently also a reputable school with a history of remarkable players, especially a captain who was well known for being an incredible setter who now plays for the argentina team and how this year, the school was able to find a successor of the said player. a promising first year prodigy who might already be in the talks of possibly being invited to japans u-19 team. as muh as you were enjoying listening in on the coaches conversation, your eavesdropping session was cut off by yachi calling for you. so you (disappointedly) immediately stood up and walked towards her.

"im really sorry, y/n! i totally forgot that we have a practice match today! but its a good start to show you what a manager does during a game so worry not! your time is not wasted and youll still learn something today!" she enthusiastically hands you a few bottles of energy drinks and towels and asks you to help her distribute them among the players.

"theres actually quite a lot of things to do as a manager but its nothing too hard to handle. usually during practices and games, we just need to make sure that their bottles are filled with water and always have the towels ready to give to them during time outs," whilst you were distributing the drinks and towels, a surge of teenage girls went swarming in to the gymnasium. all of them wearing a different colored uniform from yours. you assumed they must be from the school whos playing against karasuno today. not long after, the players from aoba johsai arrives as well. so you ignored them and resumed with your task. but of course, even though some of them had their souls doing some sort of astral projection due to nervousness, the sound and sight of an audience catches their attention and interests piqued. unfortunately, they were too distracted with the sudden audience and didnt notice you trying to hand them a towel and accidentally bumps their open lid energy drinks on your extended arm, the collision causing the contents of the bottle to spill all over your uniform blouse. your white uniform blouse.

the players panics and they started crowding all over you, handing you a towel and profusely apologizing for the trouble theyve caused when you havent even actually met them yet. of course, you accepted their offers to help you out with a smile thats trying to mask your devastation as the shirt you were wearing was brand new and you were sure to get a scolding once you get home. yachi on the other hand immediatey ushers you towards her bag, that was on the other side of the gym, to which she says contains a spare shirt you can change into. unfortuately, things were about to get worse. just as you were about to walk out to change your clothes after yachi handed her spare shirt to you, a late comer from the other school dashes through the door and collides with you. he was also holding a drink on his hand, "was" because now its spilled all over your blouse. again.

great. two shades of beverage stain. energy drink and iced americano. all over you white uniform blouse. but at least yachis shirt was saf— nevermind. it had coffee stains on it as well.

meanwhile, the former owner of the coffee was grunting while sitting on the floor, his hands rubbing his lower back that was in pain from the unexpected landing on concrete from the collision between you two. he opens his eyes as he realizes that his cup of coffee was no longer in his hand but spilled all over you and the clean shirt you were supposed to change into after having an energy drink spilled on you just moments ago.

well, this is a great first day of orientation as the possible new manager of the volleybalm team.

the boy frantically stands up with his jaw dropped, eyes on your figure on the floor. before he could say anything to you, another boy rushes to the scene and turns to the boy with a stressed and frustrated face.

"MYUNG JAEHYUN! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"

to be continued...

©️ tobiotaesan

do not repost or translate without permission !

[bitchy-craft]

Messages From Your Pet | Pick A Pile

Hello and welcome to this Pick A Pile! In here you'll find out what your pet[s] or future pet[s] want to tell you. I hope you guys enjoy and find this useful. Do make sure to leave comments down below on your experience! I do want to remind you all that this is a General Pick A Pile which means this is for a lot of people: therefore keep what resonates and leave what doesn't.

Masterlist > Questions > Paid Readings [NEW]

Pick A Pile!

Pile 1:

This may sound odd, but they want you to clean your room, or house, possibly their place of sleep, clean up, the mess is overwhelming them with many emotions that can trigger them to do things you might not appreciate. They love it when people are over, but would love it even more if they can socialize with animals of their kind themselves. This can be by going to a dog parc, letting them outside, or maybe buying them a friend if that’s possible in the situation.

They want you to realize that you’re way taller than them, and that looking down on them or hanging over them can come over as quiet intimidating, try to keep that in mind whenever you pick them up, cuddle them or pet them, you’re bigger and stronger, it can sometimes be rather nerve wrecking.

They like to let more energy loose, and this doesn’t only have to be done by letting them run around in a field. This can also be done by buying them toys where they need to use their brain for, or using things like a rope. If you have small animals, try to rearrange their cage or explore small places around the house.

Pile 2:

Give your pets or future pets more or a lot of attention. Even if they already get a lot of attention, they love it and want as much of it as possible even if it might not be realistic. They love to be hugged from time to time although it is done in their choice. They don’t appreciate being suddenly picked up, suddenly hugged, or suddenly asked a lot from. Try to let them come to you first, and if you sometimes can’t do that try to let them be aware that you’re there for a few seconds and then pick them up or do what you need to do, so they can be prepared.

They love to be groomed as long as it doesn’t hurt, they love to look pretty and for some of your pets are probably aware of the fact they get compliments about how pretty they look. They also might like to make a mess around the house because they need something to trigger their brain, they need to do something to get their energy to let loose.

Pile 3:

If you ever loose stuff, they are taking it. They love to take things they aren’t supposed to, it’s like a collection to them, they find everything precious and want to keep it to themselves. They don’t like it when you punish them for it, or when you don’t give enough for them to gather.

They love to be with you, even if it might not be obvious. Some of you guys’ pets like to be close to you and sit around you or hug you. Some of you guys’ pets might not be that into touching or be close to you, but they love to sit and watch from a small distance, or just be in the same room as you. Other’s might like to just see you and give them attention since it might not always be possible. They hold you dear and find you precious, just like the things they like to gather.

[agentmarvel]

nsfw alphabet - simon "ghost" riley

afab!reader

mdni - 18+; minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

divider credit: @/cafekitsune

☆ a/n: Due to other various non-sexual factors, I headcanon Simon as a dom - somewhere between a soft and hard dom, but still very much so in that headspace. A majority of this is written under that notion.

♡ a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

- Simon is the king of aftercare. He's so hyperfocused on taking care of you - making sure you understand how much he loves you, keeping you hydrated, cleaning you up, soothing any part of you that he feels needs it, etc. He tends to play pretty rough, test your limits, but nothing matters more to him than your wellbeing.

♡ b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

- His favorite part of his own body is his back. It bears dozens of scars - some bad memories, some good - but also some of his favorite tattoos, including his newest, the one he got for you.

When it comes to you, it's definitely your eyes. They're so expressive, and sometimes, he can tell what you're thinking with just a glance. It's easy for him to decipher your mood. And he particularly loves watching those pretty eyes roll back when he hits the spot that makes you see stars.

♡ c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

- He definitely prefers to finish on your holes rather than inside them. Something about seeing streaks of his cum painting your swollen, abused cunt, dripping down between your cheeks, drives him wild. He can't help but use the tip of his cock to smear it around and then fuck it into you.

♡ d = dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

- When he's deployed, Simon takes a pair of your panties. Typically a clean pair, one of the cotton ones so there's no risk of tearing any lace or staining silk; but he keeps them in his pocket at all times. He jerks off with them when he misses you most, but he's never lost a pair. (He thinks you don't know, but you put it together after his first two deployments since you moved in together; kind of obvious when your favorite panties disappear when he does and resurface when he returns.)

♡ e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) 

- Simon doesn't have tons of experience. Between the job and his penchant for anti-social tendencies, coupled with the fact that he's objectively off-putting and intimidating under general circumstances, that doesn't leave much room for hook-ups. But what he lacked in the beginning, he made up for with enthusiasm and research.

♡ f = favorite position

- He's a mating press kinda man! Let's him get the perfect angle and depth to make you scream. Puts your sweet little cunt on full display for him while he ruins it, but your pretty face is still in his line of sight. He gets to see every fucked out expression without missing the way he stretches you out.

♡ g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

- Despite the overwhelming perception, Simon's not all business, all the time. Everyone outside the 141 seems to ignore his dark sense of humor and all the shitty dad jokes he cracks just to hear your precious little giggles. He is, however, very serious in the moment. The dynamic you share really doesn't allow for his façade to crack unless your safeword is used.

♡ h = hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) 

- Si doesn't typically fuss over his body hair, but after the night he ended up with one of his own pubes in his mouth after a kiss, he decided to keep it a little neater when he's home. Nothing crazy, just shortening up the wiry hairs. But the carpet definitely matches the drapes.

♡ i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

- There are hints of intimacy in everything Simon does. Sometimes, it's lacing his fingers between yours while he plows into you. Sometimes, it's pulling your head back by your hair to dot kisses along your hairline. Sometimes, it's the way he rubs the knots out of your calves when he keeps you in one position too long. But it's also the way he looks at you, the way he praises you for doing as you're told. It doesn't need to be some grand gesture for Simon. It's the little things that are most intimate.

♡ j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

- He loves to make you watch him stroke his cock. Loves how you get all whiny and needy for it. His own hands don't feel nearly as good as yours do, but he'll edge himself until you start drooling. Otherwise, he doesn't really jack off unless he's deployed. No need when you've got a perfect little cum dumpster at home, yeah?

♡ k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

- Size kinkkkkkkk. Regardless of your size, no matter how much you may change over the years, Simon will simply always be bigger. In every way. He loves his intimidating stature, has the musculature to maneuver you how he sees fit, and he has a mean possessive streak that's meant to protect you. He wouldn't be quite so arrogant or smug when he takes you out if he were of a smaller frame.

(He also loves the fact that he's proportionately sized downstairs, too. Something in his brain goes a little fuzzy when he watches your holes stretch to their limits to swallow him whole.)

♡ l = location (favorite places to do the do)

- For teasing, Simon loves the car. You can't really fight back because he's driving, and safety is the number one rule. For sex, he prefers the living room or the bedroom. Toys and tools have their own cabinet in your shared room, restraints beneath the mattress, but the living room has versatility - the couch, the floor, his desk, all provide endless options.

♡ m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

- You. Just you. You existing. That's all.

♡ n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

- He absolutely will not permit anything that leaves permanent marks, physical or psychological. There are specific terms that are a hard no for degradation. If you're into knife play, he has a dummy knife that feels real enough but bears no risk of harm. Your safety is paramount, and he won't participate in any act he feels could endanger that.

♡ o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

- Simon gives as good as he gets 110% of the time, loves going down on you just for the sympony of sounds you make, but this man is so in love with watching you gag on his cock. He's obsessed with the way your mascara looks when it's running down your cheeks. He loves to watch you cough and sputter when he fucks your throat. When he has you in the perfect position, he adores the way your throat bulges to accommodate him.

♡ p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) 

- Generally, he's pretty rough, but it's not always fast. He'll alternate between railing you within an inch of your life and agonizingly slow strokes that end in him slamming home hard enough to scoot you up the mattress. He likes to take his time taking you apart, but making love is reserved for rare occasions, particularly when you've been having a rough mental week and need to be reminded that you are loved.

♡ q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

- Quickies aren't preferred. They'll do in a pinch if you just can't wait, but as stated previously, Simon likes to take his time. He'll make a whole evening of edging and overstimulating you if you let him.

♡ r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

- He's moderate in his stance on risk. Teasing is all fine and dandy; he doesn't give a fuck if anyone thinks something is off. But he isn't necessarily game for risky locations when it comes to sex. He's wary of anyone else seeing what's his. He's unopposed to experimenting, though. Never know what you like until you give it a shot.

♡ s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

- His stamina is borderline superhuman. He can cum maybe two or three times in a session, lasts way too long, doesn't need much time to get hard again. But outside of sessions, he’ll hold out for a good half an hour before he allows himself to finish - just to make sure you've gotten your fill (literally and metaphorically).

♡ t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

- I think he owns a few cock rings for himself, but he mostly buys them for you, and boy howdy, does he use them. He favors the vibrators he can control in particular. Loves making you wear them in public and watching you try to act normal. Loves making you bounce on a decent sized dildo while you suck him off (swears it's to prep you for him, but really, he gets off on the idea of you getting double stuffed). Loves to hear you beg for it when he edges your throbbing clit with your little wand.

♡ u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

- He's a merciless tease. Working you up is a game to him. Simon loves to see how far you can bend before you break. And he loves it when you give it right back to him! Winding him up until he snaps is equally fun for him.

♡ v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

- Simon isn't particularly loud, but he's very vocal. He's so primal about it all, grunting and breathing heavily while spewing absolute filth. Constantly telling you how good you feel, how well you're taking him, how pretty you are. A mixture of praise and degradation. He's the type to force you to look him in the eyes while you're struggling to keep them from rolling back. When he's about to cum, the grunts turn into groans, pitched up to near whimpers. He talks to whole time, more so than any time you're not fucking.

♡ w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

- Definitely into anal play. It takes a long time to work you open enough to take him, and he enjoys every second of it. You make this cute, punched-out noise when he finally pushes it in that almost makes him cum on the spot every time. Likewise, he's a big fan of rimming and a little light fingering himself.

♡ x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

- Obv Simon’s a fucking mountain of a man, all 6'4" of him. Proportionate. No shortage of raised pink scars littering his pale skin; they're everywhere. Hella tatted.

7", heavy upward curve, uncut, too thick to wrap your hand all the way around.

♡ y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

- Early on, his drive was pretty low. Sex wasn't a priority; he was fine without it. But then he got his first taste of you, and all bets were off. He's incapable of keeping his hands off you. He'll fuck you 3-5 times a week, but if you want more, you need only ask.

 

♡ z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

- Sleep doesn't typically come easy for Simon, and this is no exception. The difference here is that he's too busy admiring you to close his eyes. This specifically is the time he spends questioning how he got so fuckin' lucky, what a guy like him ever did to deserve a gift like you. He spends half the night just staring at you, memorizing every single little detail all over again. He's used to running on only a couple hours of sleep, so it's well worth the sacrifice.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

I have been wanting to binge some Xaden x you stories but there seems to be none! Thank you so much for writing Late Night Hours!! If you ever choose to write another one, would you consider a healer x Xaden?

-🖤🖤

So glad you enjoyed that story. I loved writing it. 🤍

My kind of girl

Was it an awful idea? Yes. Was it against all restrictions? Yes. Was this not at all how Xaden thought it would go? Hard yes. He didn’t even understand how it started. What brought it all on? He had visited many healers. Had been patched up by so many of them. He never given them any more attention that was needed. Done and forgotten afterward.

But that particular day most of the healers had been out on some sort of training. Spirits only knew what healers could train for but as if all odds were against Xaden, Garrick had a particular taste for blood that day and not even an hour into training, Xaden was clenching his wrist. The skin already blossoming with purple and reds.

“You should get that checked before you start crying”, Garrick chuckled, making Xaden growl, “Suck a bag off…”, “Manners”, Imogen chirped in, “We have a jar of coins remember? For every d and p that comes out of your filthy mouths”, she pointed a warning finger at the two males. “Mommy is mad”, Bodhi chuckled, earning a slap on the back of his head from Imogen.

So Xaden did go even if he was convinced that it was nothing. He still found himself rounding the corner to the healer's wing. Just the moment he kicked open the door his whole body suddenly stalled. It’s as if his brain shut off for a moment before it kicked start again at the sound of a book hitting the floor. The most beautiful eyes looked back at him. Xaden had seen a handful of pretty females. Had a pleasure to interact with them in more than one way but this. You. You made practically every single one of them look like average women.

“How can I help?”, you quickly bent moving to pick up the book. Your cheeks were already pink but that didn’t surprise Xaden, healers rarely left their wings. Rarely interacted with anyone but their patients. Xaden simply lifted his hand upward. He knew how it usually went. Most females clung to him. But you simply nodded, moving around the room and picking up different salves. “I will make sure you’ll be able to fly by the morning”, you muttered after sitting the rider down.

Oddly enough Xaden found himself unable to not look at you. He always liked his girls on the tough side. The more they snarled at him the more he was interested. Nothing was more attractive than riding leathers. But here he was mesmerized by the loose curls, a grayish gown, and even the colorful scarf tight around your head was beautiful to him.

“You’re new”, Xaden’s words were groggy because he had stayed silent for the past couple of hours. The tone was rather intimidating. But you didn’t flinch only blinked a bit faster. “Yeah…”, you muttered, “Only a couple of days here”. Your soft voice warmed parts of Xaden that had been ice cold for yours. He frowned not sure as to what was happening. “And you’re all alone here with only a couple of days of experience under your belt? I wouldn’t trust you to run this smoothly”, it came out more as an accusation than anything else. Making you pull back, “I can handle this. I can handle myself”, and oddly enough Xaden didn’t doubt that.

There was something different about you. Something way more intriguing. Something that caught Xaden’s attention. You also weren’t big on chatter. Nor did his broad shoulders seem to intimidate you much. You didn’t stop to hack at him and that rubbed Xaden in way that he hadn’t felt in a while. Your movements were calculated. As if it was second nature. Well, it very clearly was. It seemed like a dance. One practiced so many times that now it was easy to do it without being able to see. The same way fighting was for Xaden.

“If you won’t move it much today it will be good as new tomorrow”, you turned back, getting straight to cleaning your surroundings. “That’s it?”, Xaden questioned looking down at his bandaged wrist. One that felt perfect as it was now. But how did you manage to do it all so quickly? He usually sat here for ages while different girls fussed over him. “You want a kiss on the forehead too?”, you huffed, making the sides of Xaden’s lips curve upwards. “Do you offer that to everyone?”, he pushed on wanting to see just how far he could take this. “No, only to the ones who are as tall as they are stupid”, you crooked your head to the side, offering Xaden a mocking smile before continuing your way around the medical room.

“Ahh now that’s a low blow, baby girl”, Xaden gently caught your arm, turning you back to face him. Your eyes darted up to look at him. A look of surprise almost immediately replaced by annoyance, “You don’t scare me”. Yet your voice came out barely a whisper. You might not be a scared little girl but the guy in front of you sure was at least twice your size. A light shiver ran down your back. He could easily pick you up with one hand and just…

“Then why are you trembling?”, now it was him smirking once more. Satisfied that he managed to rile up a reaction from your body. But you swiftly pulled your arm out of his grasp, “I suggest you go, rider, before you find yourself unable to”, you pointed towards the door. Glad that there was some distance between you two because your heart was beating so fast you were convinced the male would be able to hear it drumming against your ribcage.

“Feisty little thing you are, huh”, Xaden whistled crossing his arms over his chest, “Unlucky for you, I like my girls prickly”. You lifted your head. Chin held high and fuck did Xaden’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of your delicate features shifting with that sheen of annoyance. “Unlucky for you I know at least forty-five ways to kill you and believe me you’re giving me ideas as we speak”, you nodded towards the door once more. Hoping that he didn’t see your crimson cheeks as he turned around. Xaden shook his head as he reached for the handle, chuckling under his breath. Chuckling… when was the last time he had chuckled? Maybe Garrick hit his head harder than Xaden initially thought. The rider ran a hand over his face but right as he was about to close the door he halted, throwing you one last look, “That pink on your cheeks suits you, sweetheart”. He simply heard a gasp before a cloth was flying right at him but Xaden managed to close the door in time. Frustrating grumbling audible from within the room. He surprised another smile before his cold side clinched around his throat once more. What the fuck was he doing? And why did all of a sudden you felt like his kind of girl? One that he had to win over.

[p0opyppii99]

ᯓ★((stranger !!Yuta! Teasing !Reader!)) -beginner :P - (made some mistakes mb)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

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▀ ▄ MDNI, SMUT, TEASING, AGED UP CHARACTERS, STRANGERSTOLOVERS!!!!!!

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.

Yuta, who might be perceived as: shy, kind and possibly easy to be around to say the least. That was your first impression of the man who is now teasing your abused cunt. It had only been around thirty minutes since you had first met each other through your best friend Maki. Since then, you couldn't help but notice the way his eyes linger on you ever so perfectly. It made your heart flutter as you noticed the special grade student attempting to make his move. "Hey! My names Yuta and you are?", he said blushing obnoxiously "Oh hey! I'm Y/n" as you were speaking to him your gaze quickly averted to the growing beast that was practically begging to be freed in the tightness of his own pants. One thing led to another and due to the fact that you both lacked self control and craved each other you found yourself straddling on the dark haired man's lap. Yuta had kept a firm grip on your waist, guiding you through the act. "My god your just so beautiful its gonna be the death of me", he murmured as he planted a wet kiss on your neck. This earned a slight whimper from you as you began to straddle his lap more as you were searching to earn some friction to please yourself. Yuta couldn't help but notice your desperation which made him kiss you. At first, it was a soft, gentle, delicate kiss. The kiss soon escalated into him dominating your mouth with his smooth tongue as he would also bite your lower lip occasionally. He then parted your lips in order to breathe he then noticed the string of saliva connecting the two of you in which had provoked him to kiss you again as he sucked up all the saliva connecting the two of you which resulted in you to whine profusely. He was RUTHLESS and somewhat disgusting. You were also ashamed to admit that his animalic behavior contributed to your arousal. You wouldn't have expected this from him. Not in a million years. You assumed he had none erotic experiences because he seemed too shy or nervous to be THIS good at it, you were almost intimidated of how skilled he was at this. You even went to lengths as feeling vulnerable in the situation as he was clearly in charge. "Yuta?" you murmured under your breath "Yes darling?", he muttered as he gave you a warm smile. "Do you think we can" you stopped mid sentence as you knew what you meant. What you wanted. But him being the tease that he is; he demanded you to be more 'forward' as to what you were referring to. You refused to, as you were nervous. Five minutes had passed but he felt the urge to give in which he did in almost a fraction of a second. His hands made its way to unclip your bra and he had tossed it across the room. Yuta then wasted no time and sucked on your hard nipple like a starved man. He gave you no mercy whatsoever earning multiple whimpers, moans and cries from you. "Yuta, I cant I just met you. This is so wrong". you said letting out an exasperated sigh "You sure? don't assume I haven't noticed you pressing your thighs shut against each other". Fuck, he was so right and his attention to detail was almost over whelming its as if he's taking note of your every move yet, he seemed rather confident in his actions when he's alone with uits as if he had no shame. You then got bold as you were experimenting and had decided to gently stroke his clothed girth. "Changed your mind so quickly?". Within a fraction of a second he had kept your soft legs on his shoulders and started to lap your folds and suck on your swollen clit as if he was desperate to get a taste of your sweet juices. "g-g-give yourself a bre-break!! Can you even breathe", you said in exasperated moans and cries. Little did you know this made matters worse and had only provoked him to suck harshly. Within ten minutes you had lost track of the amount of times that you had cum. But he wasn't done with you. Not yet. Without warning, his inhumanely large cock was placed in front of your heat, using his flushed tip that dripped in pre-cum to tease your folds in circular motions. It drove you insane. He was a stranger you met not too long ago yet he knew you so well?

THIS WAS MY FIRST WRITE DONT JUDGE LOL!! open for requests :D

[leehaner]

Talk: Chapter 1

pairing: leehan taesan x fem!reader

genre: ANGST, love triangle, slowburn, eventual smut, fuckboy!leehan, college au, undecided ending + genre tbh im lit writing this on a whim bffs

word count: 2k

summary: find out

warnings: none for this chapter!

“Please tell me this is the last fucking box y/n” said your friend Jaehyun as he put down one of your many boxes of clothes for the semester.

He’d offered to help you move into your dorm at your newly transferred school, which he also attended.

“You maybe carried one box in here and it was the lightest one, if you were going to complain so much why'd you offer to help move me in? Sungho was going to come instead”, you said in between laughs and you’re sure he replied back with something equally as dramatic as what he’d said earlier but you were deep in thought thinking about whether or not you made the right choice to transfer here.

“Are you even listening to me?!” he says, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Huh? oh. Sorry….what’d you say?”

“ I saiiiiiiiiid that one of my friends is having a party near campus tonight and you’re coming. It’ll be good for you to meet new people other than me and Sungho. I’ll come get you and everything!”, he says, leaving almost no room for you to say no and pleading with his hands for you to say yes. It was always really hard for you to say no to him because he’d been one of your closest friends since high school and he always knew what was best for you before you even knew it, so, you agree under one condition.

“Okay whatever just don’t leave me alone at the party because I will leave so fucking fast”

“Then how else will you learn to make friends”

“not going”

“OKAY DAMN I won't leave you alone…. it’s not like sungho won’t be there anyway and i'll introduce you to our roommates'' he says while putting your clothes on hangers in annoyance.

Roommates. That word unexpectedly makes you nervous because up to this point you’d heard crazy stories about Jaehyuns experience with them and the thought of meeting people is always out of your comfort zone. You wouldn’t call yourself shy, but you’re more closed off than you’d like to admit.

“ I should probably also warn you ...one of our roommates, he’s kind of an asshole. So don’t take anything he does too seriously”

Ugh, you’re already dreading this.

“Okay”

And with that you and Jaehyun spend the next two hours or so fixing up your single dorm bickering and fooling around for most of those two hours but you finished nonetheless.

“okay see you later y/n and take your phone off dnd, you’re not getting out of going to this party tonight” he says walking out of your dorm gathering his phone and hoodie from your freshly made bed.

“wasn't planning on it!” you lied. you were definitely planning to shower then sleep and blame the no response to his texts on dnd.

“yeah OKAY, bye~!” the boy says, taking one final stride out of the door and letting it slam behind him which makes you roll your eyes.

After roughly 20 minutes of mindlessly scrolling on your phone you decide it’s time to shower and get ready for the party you were dreading with every fiber of your being.

8:36pm

It's now been an hour since you started getting ready and you were now checking your outfit in your mirror. You were a bit unsatisfied but not enough to change for what would now be the third time of the night. You were dressed rather provocatively but you didn’t care, it made you feel good.Your makeup was already done and now all that was left was to spray perfume and check your phone to see when Jaehyun would be coming to pick you up.

You remembered that he’d probably be bringing his roommates and you were happy to see Sungho as you hadn’t seen him in a while but it was intimidating to meet the rest of them. Still, you were able to, for the most part, shake that feeling off.

myung: hey im like a min away rapunzel let down ur hairrrrrr

you: need you to b normal so bad

myung: HURRY TF UP im downstairs

You walked out of your dorm room and sprinted to the nearest elevator pressing the buttons urgently and waiting for it to come up for a few seconds but it felt like a thousand years were going by so you thought maybe it’d be quicker to take the stairs and slowly started to turn around.

beep

The elevator doors open and someone grabs your arm and turns you around gently. you had an immediate reaction to take your arm back but in an ever-so gentle manner.

“you don’t have to take the stairs” a husky voice says to you

you looked up at him and scanned his features for what felt like years to you but was only for a split second. He had long brown hair and even browner eyes that looked like the entire galaxy was in them.He ran his fingers through his hair with the hand that had just turned you around and put his phone in his back pocket with his other hand.

“Do you always grab strangers into elevators?” you ask him.

he took a few steps forward in order to hold the elevator open on one side

“technically you’re not in the elevator yet but this is my first time, hopefully I was easy enough on you” he replies cheekily with a smirk forming on his face.

You were shocked at how he could just make something so regular into a sex metaphor but somehow it worked. Still you rolled your eyes at the comment, making an automatic assumption about what kind of guy this stranger is.

“and a thank you would be nice”

“thanks” you respond making your way inside the elevator purposely avoiding the side he was evidently holding open for you. You notice he looks down, poking the side of his inner cheek with his tongue and smiling. He steps back into the elevator and you both reach to press buttons. You went for floor one while he went for floor two.

“Got a ride waiting for you or something?” he asks with what sounds like genuine curiosity.

“yeah, are you gonna follow me and kill me?” just as you say this jokingly the elevator doors open once more.

“Just curious but that does sound enticing” he smiles and faces you as he walks backwards out of the elevator trying not to break eye contact with you once.

You smiled to yourself at the small interaction knowing you’d never see him again as he was probably just heading to a hookup judging by the fact floor two of your dorm building was girls only. But ,still, you couldn’t help but feel butterflies from the chemistry filled banter you’d just had with a random stranger even if he was about to go fuck some random. It felt good.

myung: btw. you may or may not have to sit on someone’s lap because my car is not that big SORRYSORRYSORRYSOORY

you: bro im going back upstairs

myung: NO c'mon they’re excited to meet you and sungho has gummies in the glove compartment.. 😁

you: ….bribing me is crazy

myung: it’s the only way i fear🤦🏻‍♂️🤦🏻‍♂️

myung: i see you coming down the stairs just walk straight then turn left a little and you’ll see my car

you follow his instructions and see his red car looking absolutely packed with men whom amongst them you only see one familiar face, Sungho.

“Y/N!!!!!!!! I haven’t seen you in forever, i missed you” the tall long haired boy says to you as his passenger side window is rolling down.

“ I missed you too” you gave him a warm smile. Jaehyun then steps out of the car and opens the back door for you revealing 3 boys, one with pink hair, another with short brown hair and the very last with long dark hair and a streak of blonde in the back of it. damn you thought, he’s attractive.

“ So from left to right this is Riwoo, Woonhak, Taesan and obviously you all know this is y/n” , Jaehyun says smiling and gesturing to everyone then you.

There was a sudden flow of nice to meet yous after that coming from all of you and they all seemed rather nice, you felt instantly welcomed by them especially Riwoo who you felt you’d grow close to quickly, he reminded you a lot of Jaehyun in a way you couldn’t exactly pinpoint but was there nonetheless.

“ Now that you’ve met …any of you want to sit on each other's lap so that y/n can sit?” Jaehyun says while scratching his head.

“ I don’t mind," Woonhak says, smiling and shrugging. You smile at his kind gesture and you and Jaehyun walk over to the other side of the car, he gets back into the driver's seat while you stand at the backdoor. Taesan opens the door, steps out and Woonhak follows suit, you assume he’d be sitting on Taesans lap in the middle. However as Taesan stepped out of the car you were shocked at how tall he was, he didn’t seem all that tall from the view you had of him at the start of this interaction but there he was, standing at probably six feet tall at least.

He very clearly checked you out from head to toe and smiled at you politely as he waited for Woonhak to step out of the car, it was like he was going to say something to you but he himself didn’t know what to say first. He then went to sit in the middle of the backseat shuffling into place and tapping his lap with both hands gesturing for Woonhak to sit there.

“Don’t ever do that again” Woonhak says laughing which also makes you and Taesan laugh and you then take a seat next to them and finally close the car door. You all then take off to the party.

On your ride there everyone was mostly on their phones or having small conversations over the somewhat loud music Sungho had on aux. You were looking out of your window and could see Taesan from your peripheral vision occasionally doing the same. Whenever he wasn’t looking out of the window he was staring at you, it felt like he was piercing through your skin with his eyes and maybe that feeling rooted from the fact you wished you could look at him back in that moment but then he’d know you could see him looking at you that whole time.

“Nah man don’t worry about it, he'll probably just be at the party later anyway”,Jaehyun says. You were curious who he was referring to as you overheard bits of his and Sunghos' conversation.

“ I don’t get why he didn’t just come with us” Sungho responds.

“don’t think too much about it seriously , he's always weird like that”, Jaehyun reassures him and with that the conversation ends leaving you wondering who they were just talking about.Ignoring your curiosity you put one of your earbuds in so you could listen to music for a bit.

now playing: the smiths - there is a light that never goes out

“I love the *muffled speech*

“What?”, you take off your singular earbud to ask what Taesan had just said to you

“I said I love the smiths”, he says to you with a smile that was so contagious, you smiled without even noticing.

“Do you want to listen with me?” you ask sweetly, to which he nods. you hand him the other earbud and you listen to music the rest of the car ride there.

you couldn’t help but feel butterflies from how he’d somehow get a brand new smile for each song that played or tapped his foot along to the sound, signaling that he liked your taste in music.

He’s so endearing you thought.