#shorter than i would have liked because the foot is not all that happy with me yet :(

[just-anka]

My foot injury may still be wonky and I may still spend pretty much all my time thesis writing, but this afternoon I got the autumn run of my dreams so I'll take that 🧡

[yuzuocha]

KITH? KITH. [PT. I]

kissing hcs for xavier and zayne, let's go. rafayel and sylus will be in pt. 2.

warnings ‣ there might be a little steam, but thats it

xᴀᴠɪᴇʀ.

— when one usually shoots a glance towards the sleepy, cryptic, book-and-meat-loving hunter, they would see him as a reticent, passive lover who doesn't show much affection – especially physical ones – towards his partner.

— well, it isn't as if they were completely wrong, per se. however, the impression they had of Xavier when it came to romantic endeavors couldn't have been more wrong – especially when it came to kissing.

— in most cases, his kisses are sweet and gentle, just like his demeanor. he loves planting them all over you. your cheek, your temple, your ear, your shoulder, your palm – you name it, he most definitely enjoys it. hell, even if it's the bridge of your foot, your thigh or the back of your neck.

— he definitely has a preference to give than to receive, though he's more than happy to be gifted with a smooch. his mouth-to-mouth, on the other hand, couldn't be more different.

— it's as if a switch turns on whenever he touches your lips with his.

— xavier didn't actually have any experience in kissing beforehand – or so he says – but his trained instincts, senses and perception swiftly kicked in and turned his clumsy kisses into (literal) breathtaking ones.

— his direct kisses never fail in threatening your knees to buckle underneath his touch, and he knows what drives you insane – nipping your bottom lip and swiping his tongue to soothe the small bite, cupping your neck into a more favorable angle with one hand while the other tipping your chin upwards to make the kiss deeper and your breaths shorter.

— and then xavier sweetly pecks your lips as if he didn't just ravish you in your entirety.

— it's also important to mention that he's hardly shy, contrary to his sloth-like nature. he is bold and open in his ways of affection and would care less for pressing lips together in public regardless if there was no audience or a stadium filled with them.

— still, he'd prefer more private spaces simply because the sight of you is something that is for his eyes only – nobody should ever see that dazed expression of yours other than him. possessive? yeah. but do i love it? yeah??

"very pretty." xavier whispered, breaking the string of saliva that connected him to you. all you could do was weakly nod back like an idiot. you couldn't tell whether the droplets on your face were sweat or tears.

or perhaps it's both.

xavier leaned down once more and gave a final kiss so gentle that your knees threatened to give out. your lips didn't have time to feel cold after xavier pulled away — he had one hand cup your jaw and cheek and had the other hand's thumb brush your swollen lips.

as the corners of his lips curled upwards,

the clumsy xavier had long been buried six feet under — and that's assuming that inexperienced side existed in the first place.

ᴢᴀʏɴᴇ.

— he's a surgeon. he has incredible dexterity and control. just in what world would you ever think he's awkward at kissing of all things? it's kinda ironic that zayne likes kissing despite knowing the amount of germs spread between the two are numbers that'd make any doctor froth at their mouth, though.

— despite his fondness for this activity, you're usually the one who gives small pecks and not the other way around. though, it isn't necessarily his fault – he's a doctor. a chief cardiac surgeon, at that.

— he doesn't sleep as much as he should to begin with, it's difficult to see you outside of check-ups and your occasional crashing at his place, and even at home he has to continue reading papers and study to not lose his edge.

— don't worry, however. he's largely upset about his quantity of kissing you. he just doesn't show it that much – so he uses those feelings to make the scarce kisses count.

— his kisses are slow but steady, allowing half-second pauses for you to breathe and his hand gently around your neck for support – indeed, a true gentleman. at the end of each kiss, it always leaves you feeling oh-so warm and soft, as if he swaddled you up in the coziest blanket in the world.

— during certain moments nightly activities ehehehehe, he still retains that loving finesse and control. he's someone who cherishes every single moment of contact, a perfectionist even in romantic endeavors.

— god bless zayne.

you could feel his hand twisting the door's lock.

clack. chief cardiac surgeon zayne really doesn't want to be interrupted at this moment.

but you couldn't afford to divert your attention to something like that; with one of zayne's hands gently combing through your hair and the other returning to your jaw, his gentle yet deep kisses only grew in intensity. the taste of sweet mint lingered, but it didn't do much in cooling you down.

he pulled away for half a second, letting you exhale and take in another breath.

"it's astounding how you dropped by just when i was missing you most."

you were about to respond, yet zayne returned to kissing – they were mellow and delicate yet meltingly profound, very much attuned to his inner nature.

it was a long moment before zayne opened his eyes and released your mouth with a soft 'pop'. he locked gazes with your dazed, nearly lovesick expression, his eyes somehow growing softer than his kisses at the sight. he trailed his hand towards yours while looping his fingers around your own.

"is there anything you'd like to talk about?"

you were too busy melting in your feelings for him to construct a response.

tysm for reading! comment down below or message me if you'd like to be a part of the taglist, and if you can, please do consider reblogging! it helps out a lot ;; w ;; and and!! my inbox is open for requests! PLEASE SEND SOME ASDJQVEJWHE I NEED THEM

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[hashtagboykisser]

HARRY POTTER HCS !!

FIRST “I LOVE YOU” !!

prompt: harry potter characters and their first “i love you”s in relationships

characters included: harry potter, ron weasley, hermione granger, draco malfoy, ginny weasley, seamus finnigan, fred weasley, george weasley

warnings: you and seamus smoking in seamus’ part, swearing, physical abuse in george’s part

harry j. potter…

who said it: harry

when: 5th year

“cmon… just a little bit more..” harry cooed patiently, hands placed on your hips. “forget it, harry. i don’t think i’ll ever get it right.” you sighed, wanting to throw your wand down on the ground.

dumbledore’s army had just begun merely a few sessions ago, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get your patronous just right.

maybe it was because you upset professor dolores umbridge today and pushed her far beyond her limits (not even on purpose, for that matter). or maybe it’s because colin creevey was stuck way too far up your arsehole whenever you would do something wrong when it came to today’s D.A session.

“well, maybe i can give you a happy memory to think about.” harry suggested. “how on earth do you plan to do that?” you questioned, wary of what he may do.

“maybe…like this.”

and with that, harry began to scan your lips with his, feeling for all the fine details that no one else would get to see but himself.

harry felt you smile against his own lips before pulling away, with a lopsided grin smearing his cheeks.

“i love you.” harry smiled, sounding as if he’s been waiting a century to say those words to you.

“i love you too.”

ron b. weasley…

who said it: him

when: 3rd year

“oh no!! oh no no no..!!” the ginger boy roared as he was being dragged by the foot by the black-furred dog (unbeknownst to him, which was sirius black), “i can’t die yet!! i haven’t told (y/n) how much i love her yet!!”

“you bloody moron, she’s right here!!” the shorter bushy haired girl replied, slightly jealous it was her best friends name and not her own.

“i love you, (y/n)! if i die, i promise my ghost will haunt you!!” ron shouted before being dragged away out of sight.

“i love you too!” you yelped, hoping he could still hear you.

hermione j. granger…

who said it: you

when: 7th year

“i know this isn’t much… but i wanted to be able to do something for you for our anniversary.” hermione said, rubbing her neck in pure embarrassment.

you, hermione, harry, and ron were on a hunt to look for all of voldemort’s horcurxes, and because of that, you all were staying in a rubbish tent in the woods.

the tent was empty for the most part, other than the small radio player that had muggle romance music on it.

“harry and ron are out of our hair…well for now anyway. i told them to go look for anything that could be useful, i just wanted to have a nice 3 months you.”

“you kicked them out for me?” you asked, disbelief leaving your throat.

“well yes — and i know it’s not much but-” the brunette would’ve continued if you didn’t interrupt her, and she gives a slight pout because of it.

“but it is much, it is something ‘mione! it is because i love you.”

“i- uhm. repeat yourself, please?”

“i love you, hermione.”

draco l. malfoy…

who said it: him

when: 6th year

“isn’t that right, ms. (y/n)?” the barely human wizard, voldemort, said, looking at you from the other side of table.

you gulped quietly, your shoulders stiffening. “yes, sir.” you murmured, glancing at the platinum blonde boy next to you before averting your gaze.

you and draco grew up together - as your mothers were very close in their teenage years, your fathers, not so much. but they got along okay.

when draco first became part of the death eaters, his mother decided it’d be easiest to have you there, to make it a little less hard on him.

“excuse me for a moment.” draco mumbled, somewhat abruptly, as lucius and the lord were in the middle of a conversation. draco stood up within the blink of an eye, and sped walked out of the room.

“would you be a dear and check on him for me, honey?” narcissa leaned over and whispered in your ear, as you were seated between draco and his mother.

you gave a small half-smile with a nod, as you politely excused yourself, afraid of what voldemort could do if you had done it in a way of which he didn’t like.

you went around the halls of malfoy manor, the walls of which most of your childhood memories took place, as sad as that is.

you saw a crack in the door of draco’s room, and you opened the door a tad more

draco said there, looking down at his folded hands, not saying anything.

“are you okay?” you asked, even though you already knew the answer.

“those meetings…get to me, sometimes.” the blonde mumbled, his voice cracking slightly.

“me too..” you answered, rubbing your hand up and down his back, as you sat next to him.

“thank you, for always being here. i’ve spent my whole life with you, i never want to let you go.” draco said, giving a small smile.

“i won’t ever leave you behind, okay?”

“this is exactly why i fell in love with you all those years ago.”

“wait…what?” you denied, your voice quiet.

“you heard me, i love you (y/n).”

ginevera m. weasley…

who said it: her

when: 5th year (well 4th year for her)

“hey (y/n)!” a familiar, high, squeaky voice called out to you, sounding a bit distant.

“oh, hi, ginny.” you half smiled, looking down at the younger girl.

“i need to talk to you, now.” ginny asked — well demanded, but she meant to ask.

you’ve known ginny long enough at this point to know sometimes, when she wants to ask a question, it can accidentally turn into a demand. especially, when she’s nervous.

“okay, no problem.” you reported, knowing exactly what she was going to say.

she grabs your wrist with a firm grip — but not firm enough for your to be hurt. and walks you down to a more empty side of the hogwarts express.

“i love you. and quite frankly, i hate it when you spend more time with my brothers and less time with me because it’s not fair, i fancy you!” the smaller ginger insisted, with a small stomp of her foot to show she meant what she said.

“i love you too, don’t worry, gin.” you spoke, as you tucked a string of hair behind her ear, that was before in the middle of her face.

she gave a lopsided grin before happily skipping off and giving a sing-songy goodbye.

seamus d. finnigan…

who said it: him

when: 4th year

the yule ball of the 1994 school year was slowly coming to a close, but you were unable to find where your date had ran off to, one moment he was with his best friend, dean thomas — and now you have no bloody clue where he is.

there was only one placed you hadn’t looked yet — the astronomy tower.

you begin your walk up the tower of many staircases and you hear some intense coughing the higher and higher you reach.

before your eyes, you see your boyfriend — or date, or technically boy friend, as the relationship between the two of you is a bit complicated, with a cigarette between his fingers.

“hey seamus.” you say, as you sit down next to him, leaning into his touch.

“hi doll.” he says, grinning as he puts an arm around your waist.

“can i smoke with you?”

“absolutely not, angel!” seamus gasps, shocked, putting a dramatized hand to his chest, his mouth open a gap.

“huh? why not?” you asked, now just confused.

“because! i love you! i’m not letting a gorgeous goddess inhale that shit!” seamus replied, now tossing his cigarette away into the distance.

“you love me?”

“with every inch my body stands.”

fred g. weasley…

who said it: him

when: 5th year (3rd book/movie)

“i don’t know how you could even do this, i don’t know what half of this is supposed to to mean..” your ginger boyfriend said, cuddled up into your side, as the two of you studied for the following potions exams.

“well, to make it’s quite simple, it’s just seeing it on paper is the hard part.” you said, nudging him slightly, to make sure he wouldn’t fall asleep again.

“oh, how so?” he asked.

“well actually you take the-”

and before you could get any further, your boyfriend pecked you on the lips.

“sorry, at first i was interested and then i just didn’t care anymore.” fred said with a chuckle.

“fred gideon weasley!!”

“i’m sorry, i love you, does that make it better?”

“i… yes.”

george g. weasley…

who said it: him

when: 7th year (5th book/movie)

i mustn’t make mistakes any longer.

i mustn’t make mistakes any longer.

i mustn’t make mistakes any longer.

i mustn’t make mistakes any longer.

i mustn’t make mistakes any longer.

the words on your arm continued to ring in your ear, like the tangy feeling on your tongue after eating spicy foods.

none of this would’ve happened if you didn’t snap at the new d.a.d.a teacher - dolores umbridge.

the torturous (literally), cruel woman put you through so much pain in one detention.

don’t get me wrong, you’ve gotten detention once in 2nd year, but this could never compare.

the words on your arm were the ones that made you cry terrifying sobs as you had to continue to write and write and write - thanks to your low physical pain tolerance and somewhat sensitive heart, you just couldn’t bare it.

sprinkles of raindrops began to form in your eyes, they ground onto the table you were sitting at, as you tried to rub your eyes before anyone happened to notice.

“hey, love, are you okay?” george weasley - your boyfriend asked, scurrying over to you.

your arm was angled in the correcting lighting and point of view to where the taller ginger could see your scars perfectly.

“blimey!” your boyfriend shouted, pointing, before madam prince gave him a stern shooshing.

“what happened?”

you clung onto him immediately, sobbing quietly,

“hey love — it’s okay, i love you, i’m here and i always will be.”

[kaleldobrev]

Aren't You a Little Young? (4) — The 15 Year Problem Series

Pairing: MOC!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader & Dean Winchester

Series Summary: Needing help on a poltergeist case, you ask fellow hunter Sam Winchester for help. Despite having a broken arm, Sam agrees to help you. But, just as he’s about to head out and meet you, Dean tells him that he’ll take his place and help instead.

Chapter Word Count: 1.8k

Chapter Warnings: Cursing (2x), Age Gap (15 years), Sexual tension, Asshole Cop & Sassy!Reader

Authors Note: A prequel series to the Old Man Universe (OMU) on how Dean and reader met | Takes place a few days after Dean is cured from being a demon in 2016 (please read this post for reasonings why it’s 2016, not 2014) | A little bit of a shorter part | As always, thoughts are in italics and the "POV's" switch between Dean & Reader | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

⋆ The 15 Year Problem Masterlist ⋆

⬸ Go Back & Read Chapter 3

The first night (well, night was a strong word, as when the pair of you ended up finally going to bed, it was close to sunrise) sharing a bed with the older Winchester brother wasn't as awkward as you expected it to be, but the entire time you were afraid to move a muscle, as you didn't want to accidentally roll over and spoon him. But you couldn't help but wonder what he would have done if you did that. What kind of excuse would you have come up with? Would he have believed you?

You kept your back toward him, and from your peripheral, you noticed that he also kept his back toward you. You wondered if he usually slept on his side, or just stuck to that way of sleep in order to give you as much sleeping space as possible.

When you woke, it was almost 9 in the morning; a lot later than when you usually woke when on a case, but you figured you must of needed the sleep because you got four hours instead of your usual two.

You reached out your hand at the empty spot next to you, and it was still slightly warm. You felt a slight sadness, hoping that Dean hadn't left you alone in the motel room. You hoped that he would have waited for you to get up before doing anything. Then again, you didn't completely know how the man operated.

The sound of shower going on made your heart skip a beat, and you felt weirdly giddy knowing that Dean hadn't left you alone in the motel. But as you heard the shower running, you could hear something else coming from the bathroom. Is he...humming? You questioned, and then you smiled, thinking how adorable it was that someone like Dean sung or hummed in the shower.

Rolling onto your back, you looked up at the ceiling for a moment, smiling at the situation. For the first time in a long time, you felt at peace; you were happy. But that happiness and smile quickly faded when reality started to sink in. Dean was not your boyfriend, and he was never going to be. Once this case was done and over with, you'd have to go back to your apartment to your actual boyfriend. A boyfriend who you were planning on breaking up with the moment you stepped past the threshold.

Dean was barely able to get any sleep because of you. Not because you were tossing and turning, but because of how close you were to him and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. You were barely a foot away from him, and all he wanted to do was reach out and touch you; bringing you close to his chest and feel your skin against his. He wanted more than anything to just stroke your cheek and give you a forehead kiss. Maybe when the case was done and over with, he could somehow find an excuse to hug you at least.

He needed to stop with the fantasies of you and him together. It was never going to happen. You were never going to actively choose to be with him, or someone like him. Maybe if he wasn't a hunter, then maybe he would of had a chance with you. Then again, if he wasn't a hunter, maybe he would have never met you in the first place. That's when he started debating with himself about whether or not meeting you was the best thing to happen to him in a while or the worst thing to happen to him in a while.

Dean sighed, shutting off the water as he prepared himself to face you this morning. He was lucky when he woke up, because you were still sound asleep next to him. You were completely curled up, and you looked so peaceful.

The ride to the police station was quick, yet painful, as he was in another confined space with you. Your perfume or whatever you wore that smelt citrusy and woodsy at the same time kept hitting his nose throughout the drive. At one point, he held his breath so he couldn't smell you, because you smelt absolutely intoxicating to him. The urge to pull over and kiss you kept hitting him.

But that was not the only part of the drive that was torture for him. During the drive, you sang along to whatever music he had playing: Zeppelin, AC/DC, Johnny Cash, you name it. You knew every single word to every single song that he played. Did Sam put you up to this somehow to make him feel better after months and months of being a demon? He shook that thought quickly out of his head, as you being a siren made the most sense to him. Then again, Sam did like to fuck with him sometimes...

Out of nowhere, you turned to him, a soft smile on your lips. "So, I was thinking, after we go talk to some of the cops and hopefully get some files at the station, we go back to that diner and actually have a sit down meal together?" You asked. The question you asked him was so innocent, but yet, he sensed a slight romantic intention behind it. Were you flirting with him? No, you couldn't have. You were dating someone and you were 15 years younger than him; there was no chance that you were. But in order to survive, he needed to say no, as much as he wanted to say yes.

"Sure," he said, and mentally cursed at himself.

"Awesome," you said, keeping that same soft smile on your lips. You turned back to the window and looked out, resting your chin on your hand as you continued to quietly hum to Deep Purple.

"Hi, I'm Special Agent Shaw, and this is my partner Special Agent Hanniger. We're here in regard to the three murder victims you've had in the last month," you stated, both you and Dean flashing your respective badges.

The officer looked at you and Dean a few times, before a confused look formed on his face. "Aren't you a little young looking to be a federal agent ma'am? You look to be jailbait to me," he said, half chuckling to himself.

All you wanted to do was roll your eyes at this jailbait comment, and reprimand him to making such a comment, but you had to keep your composure. Unfortunately, this was not the first time you had heard such a comment, and it probably wouldn't be your last.

Out of your peripheral, you noticed that Dean was about to speak, but you quickly started talking, as you felt defending yourself would sound better coming from you, than him. "Why thank you Officer. I really appreciate that comment, because I can tell that my skin care routine is really doing wonders. But, just so you're aware, the minimum age to be a Special Agent is 23, and since I first applied when I was 23, and have been a Special Agent for the past five years, I am not what you call jailbait by any means. You can even ask my partner here, as he's been my partner all five of these years."

You flashed the officer a smile, the kind of smile you gave people to let them know that you were not going to be dealing with their bullshit. Silence fell between the three of you, and out of your peripheral, you could see Dean smirking, like he was impressed by you. "Whenever you're ready, we'd like to see those case files," you said.

"Um, right, right. Uh, this way Miss...I mean, Agent. Agent," the officer said, stumbling over his words, embarrassed by the confrontation that he probably wasn't expecting from someone like you.

Dean couldn't help but experience such an intense amount of joy in the way you spoke to the officer; as he couldn't have been more proud. There was a part of him that wanted to give you a pat on the back or give a thumbs up, followed by a 'that's my girl,' but he knew he couldn't do that. You weren't his girl; you weren't his anything.

“This is Special Agents Shaw and Hanniger,” the officer said, introducing you and Dean to the coroner. The officer looked at the two of you again. “Jones here can answer any questions you have,” he said, directing his comment to you and smiling.

“Thank you,” you said nodding, as the officer headed back up the stairs, leaving you, Dean, and the coroner alone in the basement.

“Special Agents?” Jones questioned, placing his pen down on his desk. “Why does the FBI have an interest in these cases? They’re pretty cut and dry.”

“If they’re so cut and dry, why haven’t you released a cause of death yet to the public?” You questioned.

The coroner sighed. “We’re trying not to worry the public by releasing the causes,” he explained. But you weren’t taking that as an answer, as you felt that there was a deeper reasoning behind it.

“Meaning?” Dean asked, joining the conversation.

“I’m assuming the both of you read my reports,” Jones said, eyeing the two of you. You did, but you weren’t sure if Dean had the chance to glance at them at all before he switched places with Sammy.

“Yes, but your files didn’t have a whole lot of detail to them,” you stated.

“Not much I can write when the cause of death is something that’s completely unnatural for the body to do,” Jones said. “How do you explain to three separate families, that their loved ones had all of their blood drained from their bodies with no forced entry, no signs of a struggle, and no markings to indicate where the blood was drained from? If you know, I’d love to hear it.”

“Can we see the bodies?” You asked, and the coroner shook his head. “No?”

“They’ve already been cremated,” he said, almost sounding disappointed.

“Already? It’s an open serial murder investigation and the last murder happened not even three days ago.” You found it strange that there was not even one body that you and Dean could examine for yourselves.

“Although we have no leads, we wanted to give the families closure,” Jones explained. “Or do you not believe in closure Agent Shaw?”

“I do. But I’m not sure how you expect us to help you, when we don’t even have a single body to look at to see if you missed anything.” You were starting to become frustrated, annoyed at the coroner, even though you knew he was just trying to do his job — even if it was a lousy one.

You took a deep breath, and Dean took that as his cue to continue the conversation. “Can you give us copies of the autopsies you performed?”

“Yes, I can make copies for you,” Jones said, getting up from his desk. “The witness statements as well?”

“We’ll take anything that’ll be useful in finding a possible lead,” Dean said, and Jones nodded, leaving the room so he could retrieve copies of the reports.

Once the coroner left, you turned to Dean, slightly sighing. “I could really go for a beer right about now. How about you?”

⤑ Move Forward & Read Chapter 5

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[gabnills]

Kissing is... Neteyam XF!Omaticaya Reader

Warnings: just much fluff

Note: ok this gets shorter and shorter and honestly i dont know why but i owed them a happy ending and really i wasn't very inspired but after talking to my special person he gave me some ideas, hope you enjoy it and thanks for the support i have recently received

-Owed you girl @jjyourcake

WORDS: 499

The first time you kissed Neteyam it was soft. You could say that he was shy. At first their lips just brushed against each other quickly, but after a few seconds, immersed in the sounds of the forest around them, you felt your lips slowly open with the brush of his tongue, welcoming him, both of them just feeling good, like never before.

With the passage of time it became somewhat hot. Sometimes, perhaps more often than either of them would admit, they would slip away into the night, taking a long walk through the high branches of the trees, discreet enough that no one could hear or see them, until they came to a small lagoon at the foot of the river. They both jumped, stirring up the water a bit and when they surfaced for air, Neteyam would take you by the hips and wrap your legs around his, after looking into each other's eyes desire would wrap them both and between kisses he would rip you off. Little breathy sounds as you felt his sharp teeth bite into your bottom lip, you could be sure the night wouldn't end there.

It would turn desperate as his teeth tugged at each other's lips, your fingers entwined in his hair and clenched into a fist when you felt full in every way, as Neteyan licked carelessly at your mouth and they just couldn't get enough.

But other times, like that for example, in the celebration after their engagement, the kisses were tender, in front of the large Sully family, Neteyam had asked for her parents' blessing to become your partner, the only one for the rest of his life, as if you had not been for so long ago. The warm fire at dinner surrounded them while his brothers shared stories of little Nete with you to embarrass him in front of you. When you sometimes glanced at him, you would see his adoring gaze on you as his parents spoke a few words to him in private, and later that night, when the stars rose brighter than ever over their heads, he kissed you with barely any pressure visible on the lips, traveling the corner of your mouth to the center and then to the all of your face gently kissing the bright freckles on your cheeks and pecking everywhere, showing you how much he adored you in front of everyone, because that's what did you deserve

And a couple of years later, when he was named Olo'eyktan of the town, and while the fruit of their love was barely visible on your slightly swollen belly, Neteyam took your hand and gently squeezed it, seeking the sensation of your completeness support in his new duty, you subtly returned the gesture as they stood together in front of the whole town, his town. They had already survived many things apart, there was no doubt, in either of them, that they would survive much more like this, together.

[inmyheaddd]

hey!! Can you do a Grayson Hawthorne x reader, where the reader’s ex won’t stop bothering her or Eve won’t stop bothering Grayson? Thanks!

i once believed love would be black and white - grayson hawthorne x reader

a/n: hii thank u sm for the request!! 💗 i did the readers ex because i simply cannot and will not have ev* in any of my fics warnings: mild language, ex calls you a ‘bitch’ wc: 1.3k masterlist

you practically skipped to the door after you heard it ring, with a smile on your face as you thought about unboxing the new clothes you had ordered, and giving your routine haul to grayson. 

that same smile faded the second you opened the door. instead of seeing your package, your ex was at the door, with that stupid smug grin on his face.  

your breath caught in your throat. for a second you felt frozen, but you regained your senses quick, slamming the door on his face. 

unfortunately, he was faster, pulling the door back and blocking you from closing it with his foot. “you’re not happy to see me?” he said with a fake pout, tilting his head to the side. 

you gave him the dirtiest look you could muster, not that you had to try very hard for it to appear anyway. “go to hell.” 

he smirked at you, “already have, honey.” he stood a step closer to you, “i know you want me back, don’t be like that.” 

“you should leave, now.” you deadpanned. his tactics were not going to work on you anymore. 

“what, are you forgetting all the good times we had?” he smiled at you, narrowing his eyes, “you need a reminder?” 

you felt like throwing up, he was delusional if he thought you had any good times together. for a split second, his confident demeanor and cocky grin wavered as he looked past you.

then he puffed up his chest, standing taller and pushing his chin out as if he would look more threatening— you almost burst out laughing at the sight.

the reason for his switch became more apparent as you heard a silky, low and controlled voice come from behind you. 

“do we have a problem here?” you turned, to see grayson standing beside you, adjusting his sleeve cuffs before smoothly placing a hand on your lower back. 

the cold, deadly look he gave your ex, and the way his icy eyes looked like they shot to kill,  was something you had never seen coming from him before. 

“and who the fuck is this guy?” he sputtered out, trying to come off as unbothered as he nodded towards grayson.

“somebody who doesn’t make requests twice.” grayson didn’t put any emphasis on any particular words, but they still cut through like a knife. he didn’t make threats, he didn’t have to. 

“now,” he continued. “i believe she asked you to leave.” 

“this isn’t any of your business, pal. this is between me and her.” he chuckled once again, trying to act condescending. “you don’t even know half the history we have.”

grayson used his silence like a weapon, eyeing the shorter man infront of you up and down, before speaking again. 

“i know enough.” 

you had told grayson about your past relationships and confided in him like you had with no one else. 

clearly, your ex didn’t expect you to have, based on the girl you once were when you were with him, but he didn’t know the person you had become now. 

your ex let out a harsh chuckle, his eyes flicking back to yours with that same sneer he used to use so very often at you. “fucking bitch,” he muttered, shaking his head. 

the scoff escaped your lips before you could even think, “excuse me?” you gave him an look of disgust, mixed in sheer shock.

grayson’s hand left your back in an instant, taking a single controlled step towards your ex and you watched as he stepped back almost instantly. 

your gut clenched at the words your ex said, that kind of hurt never fully faded, no matter what. but a sense of relief washed over you as grayson moved towards him — focusing on the love you felt for him, rather than the residual hurt from your ex.

grayson didn’t need to puff up his chest to practically tower over him, jut his chin out to be taken more seriously, or resort to theatrics to prove anything. he just was. 

your ex didn’t say anything as tried to look menacing, but the fear he exuded was palpable in the air.  

“if i see you on my property again, if i ever see you again, i can assure you i wont be as civil as i am being now.” 

your eyes flickered between the two of them as you swallowed, directing a glare full of hatred at your ex. “you need to leave.”

he stayed staring at grayson, who arched an infamous blonde brow up at him and tilted his head. “you heard her.” 

your ex scoffed and shook his head, muttering random words like, “just wait ‘till she comes running back,” as he walked off, and out of your sight.

grayson didn’t spend a second looking at him longer, his attention was immediately all focused on you. 

“are you alright, sweetheart?” he asked you as he closed the door behind you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

you took a deep breath and shook your head, “yeah,” you sighed, “it’s whatever, i’m fine.”

grayson stayed silent, now giving you one of his questioning brow arches. 

you laughed out loud, “alright, yeah, i fucking hate him.” 

grayson smiled at your answer, more so smiling at the fact that you were laughing — able to make light out of the situation. 

“i know. i’m sorry i didn’t do more — i should’ve. i know that with every bone in my body. i should’ve done something.”

“what?” you said, genuinely befuddled that grayson was apologizing. “grayson, you did way more than enough. it’s not your fault he doesn’t know how to take a hint.”

he didn’t say anything as his hand moved down from your shoulder, interlinking his fingers with yours and running circles on the back of your hand. “besides,” you continued, “it was more my parents decision to be with him than it ever was mine.”

grayson’s head tilted to the side slightly, brows slightly knitted before he spoke, “you know, its on the rare occasions like these, where i start to believe, perhaps violence is the answer.” 

your jaw dropped playfully as you let out a laugh, “grayson!” you exclaimed, the empty, hollow feeling in your gut long gone as grayson made you laugh. 

he somehow always knew how to make you feel better, even in the worst situations.

he smiled at the sound of your laughter, and at the sight of your smile. “it’s simply the truth, my love.” 

your laughter faded, a faint smile still on your lips as you hummed before speaking. “can i tell you a little truth of my own then?”

“i’m listening.”

“protectiveness is a really good look on you.” you said, before he wrapped his other arm around your waist and pulled you closer.

his voice was quiter and lower now, “is that so?” he murmured. 

you nodded, feeling a little breathless with your cheeks slightly flushed even when you’ve been with him for ages. “yeah, it is.”

“i’ll keep that in mind, then.” he said as he leaned in towards you and pressed his lips to yours. 

one of his hands moved to lightly hold your jaw, and the other stayed on the small of your back. 

your arms moved to wrap around his neck and you pulled back with a small smile, resting your forehead on his.

“thankyou, grayson. for everything.” you said into the space between you both, your voice barely above a whisper.

his eyes found yours, softening around the edges before talking. “you don’t need to thank me. you shouldn’t thank me.”

you laughed softly before you pressed another kiss to his lips, “i knew you’d say something like that.” 

grayson let out a breath of a laugh, his hand that was on your jaw now moving to your waist as well. “then why’d you bother?”

“because you need to hear it. even if you won’t admit it.”

he shook his head slightly, but there was a gleam in his eyes before he kissed you again, this time slower, as if trying to prove he didn’t need words to respond.

in that moment, you felt like you and grayson were the only two people in the world. 

“just wait ‘till she comes running back,” your ex said earlier.

no fucking chance.

taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @sweetlikeanangel

@littlemissmentallyunstable @anintellectualintellectual @bewitchingkisses @maybxlle @sheisntyou

@emelia07 @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee

[01navi-ss]

Im obsessed with pc, big fan actually

read more for ed shade(unserious), appreciation for rui and just me talking about how much i like a girl under the cut

first of all, ed fell off with his mid take with favoring shorter skirt for maid dress. Long maid dresses just are simply put, better. Especially with long sleeves! And the puffy shoulders r ooooh so cuuute. They look more sophisticated to me and when u spin around the ends go wee. very demure And u can do that curtsy thing "my lord/my lady" to look even more put together.

I've never kinned a man so hard than I have for rui this chapter 🤣

calling the mission peak after seeing pc in a maid uniform ✅️ telling lyca to never call a woman a hag ✅️

we love and respect rui mizuki 🤝

sadly when his butler ssr card hits i won't be able to pull him i have less than 2k gems. i fear

pc def reminds me of a timid bunny 🥺 and I like how she always tries to put her best foot forwards in anything she does. her patience is out of this world like u got these rude fuck ass ghouls and she's like "erm ok.." she's more worried about not dying in a year and trying to unite the ghouls into one big happy family.

its sad but u can tell she's used to being picked on for being "useless" with the way she dismisses comments like that and how she treats other people. characters like Kaito and Subaru who are insecure themselves are comfortable around the pc because of how patient and understanding she is.

she's an angel and i would not complain if they released an ssr/sr card of her. put her in the arena ring 🗣🗣🗣 ill max out all her stats

[starryevermore]

the house of snow (10) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his. 

chapter summary: coryo haunts your every moment.

word count: 1,737

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: another shorter chapter rip, reader is conflicted, pet names (petal), not proofread

“Get out of bed!” your mother said, grabbing at your blankets and trying to pull them off of you. 

“I shall not!” you protested, holding onto the blankets with all your might. She tugged harder on them, but you wrapped yourself around the edge she wasn’t holding so that you could become further cocooned. Your mother let out a frustrated shout before finally releasing her hold. 

“And why not?”

“I…am ill.”

“The King is expecting you at the ball.”

“The King can kiss my ass,” you mutter. 

Your mother shouted your name so loud that you were sure the Cardews, who lived on the other side of the square, could hear her. She made another grab for the blankets, yanking so hard that you were pulled out of bed with them. 

“I refuse to go,” you snapped, throwing the blankets off of yourself and attempting to crawl back into bed. Your mother grabbed at your ankle, stopping you from getting much further from the foot of the bed. “Tell the King I am sick or that my courses have came and I’m in terrible pain.”

“I will not tell your betrothed about your womanly issues,” your mother hissed. “Why must you be so difficult? Weren’t you getting along so well with the King before?”

Oh, you were getting along with him, if only because you were playing the role of a dutiful bride. You called him Coryo, you accept his kisses and kissed him in return, you let him hold you. When you found yourself bored out of your mind at home, you would traipse over to the palace. You would pretend it was an effort to stay close to Coryo, but truly you only sought out the comfort of the vast library. (Though, it was not as if you despised his companionship like you did before. Was he poisoning your mind by keeping you in such close proximity?) 

“I can get along with him after we are married.”

You barely saw your mother rolling her eyes. “You would best get used to getting along with him now. After you are wed, you will have to do whatever he pleases regardless of your own feelings on the matter.”

“I beg your pardon?”

She let out a long sigh before sitting next to you on the edge of your bed. She stared at her lap for a moment, then reached over for your hand. You were sure it was more for her comfort than anything for you. “When you are wed, there are things that you must do to appease your husband. To produce an heir, you will…have to lay with him.”

Your mother continued with an awkward description of what “laying with him” meant. To your chagrin, she did not spare any details about the discomfort you would experience with the act. How men are seldom kind with it. How, even after you gave him children, he would still force you into bed for his own pleasure. How you might never experience pleasure from it. Would Coryo be like that?, you wondered. He was like other men in a lot of ways. He could be cold and callous and demanding. But he was different, too. He let you be mouthy and do as you please. You often thought he enjoyed the way you would never just let things be. Coryo could be kind, in his own strange way. Would he be like other men, or would he surprise you? Would he treat you differently?

“…I think I might actually be sick now,” you murmur. You squeeze your mother’s hand, grateful for once for her presence.

“I don’t say all of this to scare you, dove,” she continued, “but I would be a failure as a mother if I let you go into this union completely blind. I would be like my mother. I would not forgive myself if kept the realities of marriage from you.”

And, suddenly, it dawned on you why your mother seldom cared for your father’s presence. He, too, was like other men.

“I …thank you.”

Your mother squeezed your hand back, then let go. She stood up, smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress. “I will give you a few moments to collect yourself, then I shall send your lady’s maid in so you may get ready for the ball.”

You cannot change my entire perspective on how a marriage operates and leave like nothing happened, you wanted to say. But you still felt queasy. You worried if you said anything, you might be sick all over yourself and the floor. It would take so long to make you presentable again, you would surely be late for the ball. Coryo may be a kind man at times, but you knew him well enough to know that he would feel disrespected if you missed this event. Especially when he through all the trouble of planning it.

So, you nodded and took deep breaths, trying to control yourself. 

“Well, if you aren’t the perfect picture of a bride-to-be, I don’t know who is,” Livia said, joining you at your side as you entered the palace’s ballroom. “It almost makes me wish I was getting married.”

“I’ll be sure to let your mother know you think so. There are still plenty eligible young men, and plenty of time left in the season,” your mother said, holding back a laugh, before slipping off to join the other mothers of the ton. 

Livia nearly grimaced. “Perhaps I should have waited until you were alone to say that.”

You shook your head. “Don’t worry about that. She doesn’t mean it. She can’t tease me anymore since I hit back harder, so she’ll aim for anyone she perceives as weaker.”

Livia looked unconvinced as she watched your mother laugh with hers. “We’ll see. If I end up engaged by the end of the week, I will write you to a letter to say I told you so.”

“Or you could tell me in person.”

Livia blinked. “In a week’s time, you’ll be in your honeymoon period with the King. By the time I see you again, I could be married and off for my own honeymoon.”

“Oh. I…I forget that it’s so soon. So much has happened in such a short while.” And, oh, how you wanted to tell her. Or perhaps not Livia specifically, but someone. Tell someone about the secret deals between your father and Coryo, how Sejanus tried to convince you to run away with him, how you’ve pretended to like Coryo for so long that it didn’t quite feel like pretending anymore. 

“Perhaps then I should remind you?” a teasing voice came from your side, followed by a kiss to your cheek. You painted a smile on your face as you looked up at Coryo. “I can’t have my bride forgetting such an important day.”

“You shouldn’t have swept me up in such a whirlwind then, Coryo,” you said. It still felt strange to call him by his nickname, especially in such a public setting. It was a bit more natural in private, when there wasn’t prying eyes and listening ears abound. This felt too…vulnerable. Like you were exposing yourself to the ton. 

Coryo beamed, his pretty white teeth sparkling. Even if calling him by his nickname left you feeling vulnerable, you knew it put you in his good graces. You had hated seeing him so enraged at Sejanus, worried about the lengths he would go to prove you could not be stolen away from him. Calling him Coryo was the only way you could get him to see reason. 

“Ah, but then I couldn’t do this, could I?”

In front of everyone, Coryo pulled your face close to his, planted his lips right on yours. It wasn’t his usual sort of kiss, all tongue and teeth. No, this was softer, gentler. A kiss that made you believe that maybe he did love you all of these years, that he did truly propose three times before finally getting to call you his. When he pulled away, a soft smile on his face, you had to force yourself to tear your eyes, to ignore the quick thump-thump-thump-ing of your heart. 

Oh, but looking away was worse.  

For it seemed like the entire ton was enraptured by your kiss with Coryo. So you looked back at him, hoping that the ton would fade away from your peripheral vision. 

Coryo’s hand found yours. He intertwined his fingers with your own, his thumb rubbing the top of your hand. “I want to show you something,” he said to you. To Livia, he said, “If you’ll excuse us, Miss Cardew.”

Without waiting for her to say anything, Coryo pulled you away. He led you through the crowd, ignoring anyone who attempted to start a conversation with him. He was the perfect picture of focused.

“Do I get to know where you’re stealing me away to?”

Coryo huffed out a laugh. “I’m hardly stealing you away, petal. You looked overwhelmed out there. I thought you might like some fresh air.”

He took you out to the balcony that overlooked the gardens. You chose to focus on the beautiful rose bushes you could see, the white petals shining under the moonlight. “That tends to happen when everyone is watching an unmarried woman be kissed.”

A brow raised. “I can’t kiss my wife?”

“Of course you can,” you said. You offered a teasing smile. “When I am your wife. Until then, it’s private kisses only.”

“We’re in private now.”

“How convenient for you.” You placed your hands on his chest as he grabbed your waist. “Did you bring out here on false pretenses? Playing the role of my knight in shining armor so that you might continue to defile me before we wed? My, my, you are such a snake.”

“Would you blame me if I did?”

Yes. No. Maybe. You were never less sure of anything than you were about Coryo. He burrowed  himself under your skin, tore you from the inside out. But when he was sweet, oh, he could be sweet. When he was like that, you were half convinced that your teeth might just all rot away. Snow was everything that you hated, but Coryo could be everything that you loved. Damn him for containing multitudes. 

“Just kiss me. Please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

[ramhaiba]

𝖢𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀

Pairing- Yandere Bokuto x Reader MasterList

"But to Bokuto. It’s not just a crush, it’s love."

A/N- this is one of my drafts, so this is shorter than most of my work (might make a longer ver. of this fic in the future!)

Everyone knows Boktuo probably has a crush on you. The topic of Bokuto’s childish crush on you is spoken like taboo. There is a nonverbal agreement between the entire MSBY to refrain from acknowledging it because of its harmless yearning.

While Boktuo’s a great guy, the idea of getting into another workplace relationship sounds displeasing to you since your last one ended in a disaster, causing you to quit your job due to the uncomfortable work environment. 

That’s why you pray he doesn’t ask you to dinner or anything romantic related because the sight of a heartbroken Bokuto would haunt your dreams. But that is your future problem-At present, Bokuto seems to be ignorant of his feelings because if he did, he wouldn’t hesitate to show up to practice, a bouquet in his hands, confessing his attraction towards you. 

Thankfully in the present, Bokuto just thinks of you as a good friend- a good friend who he can’t get enough of, a good friend who he wants to spend all his time with. Sure- sometimes he gets a little moody when he catches you hanging around other people but that’s just a normal thing for good friends to feel right? Right?

He’s doing it again, he’s completely ignoring every responsibility he has so he can talk to you. The second you step into the gymnasium, he’s at your side so fast that you think he teleported. Bokuto would start blathering about the more random things, details about his day, his plans for the weekend, and family events. But he always complimented your appearance, regardless of whether you thought you looked like a mess. The conversation was getting too long.

You could see in the background that Atsumu was getting impatient, hands on his hips as his foot repeatedly tapped the ground.

A setter needs to train with their team. But Atsumu can’t exactly do that if his teammate is busy chatting up their manager. “Bokuto, that sounds really great but shouldn’t you get back to pratice?” you told Bokuto, trying to solve the issue. 

Boktuo tilted his head, a naive smile on his lips as he said “It’s fine, we can talk for five more minutes. Atsumu can wait.”

That was Atsumu's last straw, his eyebrows furrowing as his fingers curled into a fist at his side.

“Bokuto, could ya please stop flirting with your little girlfriend? Get yer ass back to the court, we have a game coming to prepare for” Atsumu huffed. You glance at Bokuto, noticing his dazed expression, it seems like gears in his brain are finally turning.

“Girl-friend?”Bokuto uttered in disbelief, his arms slumped forward. When his yellow eyes looked back at you, you noticed a slight blush crawling on his face, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped.

“Bokuto-”

“I gotta pratice now, Y/n. Talk to you later” Bokuto interrupted, dashing back to the court. You looked at Atsumu, giving him the most pissed-off look because judging by Boktuo's sudden change in emotion- from happy-go-lucky to a bashful blushing ace, 

It looks like he finally realized why your friendship was so different from others.

But to Bokuto. It’s not just a crush, it’s love.

It’s all that stupid setter’s fault that Bokuto is acting all weird in front of you. The second pratice ends, you’re pulling Atsumu by his ear, dragging him to the locker room so you can curse at him.

“You just had to use the word ‘girlfriend.’ You ruined this whole thing, Miya” you shouted, cornering the blonde hair setter against a locker.

“Sorry- Sorry, c’mon it was in the heat of the moment” Atsumu huffed, averting his eyes in embarrassment. 

“God- I’m going to have to break that poor boy’s heart because of you” you sighed. “What’cha mean by that?” Atsumu asked.

“Well, knowing Bokuto- he’s probably going to ask me on a date. But I’ve kinda..sworn off of workplace romances permanently” you answered, the anger in your tone slowly fading.

Atsumu took a moment to think before opening his mouth,

“We can’t have him acting all heartbroken right now- a match is coming up and I seriously cannot set to a depressed Bokuto….So just make sure he can’t ask ya out then” Atsumu suggested.

“What do you mean by that” you questioned, unsure of what he was trying to get at. “Avoid him till this little crush burns out. If that doesn’t work, it won’t hurt to get a boyfriend, y’know?” Atsumu added.

You punched Atsumu’s arm for his last suggestion causing him to hiss.

 “You’re an asshole but avoiding him for a little while isn’t such a bad idea” you hummed. “Does that mean I’m forgiven” Atsumu huffed, rubbing his sore forearm. “For now” you replied.

—

Avoiding Bokuto was a lot harder than you expected it to be. When he attempted to greet you at practice, you’d straightforwardly tell him “ I have to go schedule the hotel reservations for the out-of-state game,” or you’d mention another responsibility you must fill. 

Either way, he would let out a noticeable pout every time you walked away, mumbling a weak “okay then.”

Then he’s trying to get your attention after practice, a nervous but excited expression on his face as he stands in front of you but you don’t let him utter a single word before reminding him that you have to go home quickly to do some laundry.

‘Laundry? Was laundry really more important than him?’

Bokuto wondered. He doesn’t understand why the love of his life is acting so strange. Maybe you’re not feeling well? Or you’re stressed.

Either way, Bokuto is showing up at your door, holding a gift basket, a big grin on his lips. 

“Bokuto? What's all of this” you asked, awkwardly as you opened the door for him.

“ Figured you’ve been stressed recently that’s why you’ve been acting so distant, so I made ya a little self-care basket.” Bokuto beamed, proudly holding the basket of assorted goods. Everything in that basket is expensive, you can tell by the popular brands of each bottle of lotion, candles, and sweets.

“ Thank you, Bokuto. But you didn’t have to do this” you responded, calmly as you carefully took the basket from his hand, trying your best not to come in contact with his fingertips.

“I don’t mind doing these things if it’s for you. I’m pretty sure I’d do anything for you” Bokuto laughed bashfully.

“ Well.. goodnight.” You mumbled, trying to close the door, but his foot interrupted its closing.

“ Actually, I was kinda meaning to ask you something”

Fuck- here it is, the moment you’ve been dreading.

“Y/n, after hearing what ‘Tsumu said on the court the other day, it kinda got me wondering about somethings” Bokuto commented, a bashful grin across his lips.

“W-what kind of things” you stuttered, trying to put up a fake smile as mentally you were dreading the worst.

“I think I wouldn’t mind- I wouldn’t at all mind being able to call you my girlfriend” Bokuto confessed.

Fuck- what do you do? He’ll be too upset to play for his match next week if you reject him. You’d be lying to him if you accepted his feelings and hurt him more when you admit the truth.

“Bokuto- I don’t think we should get into this conversation, it might distract you from your game that’s coming up” you suggested.

Bokuto leans his face closer to yours, only a centimeter apart causing your heart to race. “You look so nervous, Y/n” he pointed out, his fingers brushing over the apples of your cheeks.

 “And your cheeks… they feel so hot” he mumbled. “I-it’s nothing important, I’m fine You responded, swatting his hand away from your face, adverting your eyes from his unmoving glare. 

“At first I didn’t completely understand why you’ve been pushing me away, Y/n. But now I understand. It’s because you feel the same and you’re nervous about dating another co-worker. But I’m not like that guy, Y/n. I’d never treat you like trash. I’d never let you go” Bokuto confessed. He’s getting excited- too excited because he’s come up with a false reality where you’d reciprocated his feelings. 

“Bokuto, I’m sorry but I don’t- I don’t feel the same and I don’t think I ever will” you replied being forced to ruin his dream. His entire demeanor changes at your words. It was like a switch flipped in his brain. Once standing in front of you with a big grin now morphed into an emotionless expression, eyes dulling burning holes into you, fist clenched at his side.

“Are you saying I’m wrong?” Bokuto asked, trying to find out if he heard you correctly.

“I’m saying I don’t have romantic feelings for you, Bokuto. B-but I really cherish our friendship and I don’t mind still being friends after this” you responded. 

“I don’t want that. I don’t want to be friends” Bokuto commented, his hand curling over your doorframe, pushing himself into your apartment, every step he took forward caused you to walk backward.

“Bokuto, stop it- you’re scaring me,” you remarked, heart skipping as your back pressed against the wall. “I like you so much, Y/n. I really do and I think you could too. I just need to show you how good I can be to you-

For you”

[fishsticksloser]

hello! So Rottmnt is out on my b-day which I won't be available to ask so ima ask today so you can get to it whenever you can, no rush.

So my request: the boys with a tiny SO, like half there size.

Why? Because i can't help but imagine all of them being over 6ft in height. I- just Can't! Like Mikey would be small at 6ft, Donnie and Leo would be like 6-7ft and Raph being 8-9ft

So normal humans are pretty short compared to them. Let alone someone on the smaller size! (4'6 to 5'1) (im 4'8 so ye)

hope you have a lovely day! And I will forever be impressed by your dedication to writing.

Size Difference

RotTMNT & Future x gn!reader

Warnings: fluff, slightly suggestive in f!boys parts, pretty short

A/N: As someone who dated someone a foot taller than me... Anyways... Raph gets the tallest (could grow to be 9 foot), Donnie could be up to 8ft 5, Leo can get up to 7ft 9, Mikey being the shortest (I think 6 foot 5)...

Donnie

Donnie doesn't notice

He really doesn't

He's with you purely because he likes you

Not how small you are

Or how you look

He thinks you're cute

Future Donnie:

He thinks it's cute

He loves the feel of your smaller form in his arms

In his lap

Under him

He loves playing with your small hands

He loves when you climb on him or sit on his shoulders

Leo

He loves it

He gives you all sorts of nicknames

"short cake," "tatter tot," ect

He thinks youre adorable

He absolutely loves how much shorter you are

Future Leo:

He absolutely loves it

He picks you up any chance he gets

Still calls you all the nicknames

He talks about how cute and small you are

He loves holding you up

Loves how small you look under him

He loves holding your face in his hands

Mikey

You're smaller than him!

That actually makes him happy since he's the shortest out of his brothers

He thinks you're so cute and loves it

But don't worry, he doesn't make fun of you

Future Mikey:

He loves it

Loves it

He picks you up

He likes to see the difference in your hands

He loves holding you

Raph

It makes him nervous

He's always been bigger than everyone

He kind of hates it

Raph is scared of hurting you

Hurting anyone actually

He treats you like you're glass

Future Raph:

He also hates it

He's a lot bigger than he was as a teen

He's even more scared of hurting you

But once he gets a bit used to it, he is fiercely protective

When sleeping, he wraps his large tail around you

He also gets used to how you look under/on top of him

And enjoys it

[euijoosorangeslice]

Helloooo! May I request &team members reaction when their crush is near them? :D

In a quite fluffy mood rn, so here goes.

&t Around Their Crushes

warnings: heavy fluff, kissing, reader has no specified gender, feet ig? Hard to explain lmao. Not proofread.

K

he’s probably going to try to put on a strong man persona if he thinks your into that. Skinship heavy, loves to touch your hand or your thigh. Around Valentine’s Day, you basically get a rent-a-boyfriend for the day. Impossible to not know he likes you, cause he will definitely tell you. Will be really hurt if you don’t like him back, he’s really particular about who he shows this much love towards.

Fuma

Definitely gets easily embarrassed, will get teased hard by his friends. “Look Fuma, there’s your new fiancée!” He’d hope you didn’t hear, but if you laugh he’ll want to disappear. Usually strong but will fold at your smile or compliments. If you wear his clothes it automatically means he thinks you’re the one. If you say his hair looks good today or you like his shirt he’s immediately blushing.

Nicholas

Going to try and do everything to get into your good graces. Been complaining about you favorite jacket being torn? Next day you’ll have a new one. Your feet hurt from the shoes you’re wearing? You’ll be getting new shoes and a foot massage. Once you finally catch on, he’d rush to ask you out. Probably end up spending a lot of time telling him that you can’t just buy your love with money. He’d eventually get it, and instead of buying you expensive clothes he’s taking you on expensive dates or buying your favorite things.

Euijoo

You would have to pry it out of him. You’d probably catch him staring super hard and he’d immediately apologize. He purposefully sits next to you in a way that you won’t even notice his staring when you’re talking to your friends. Zones out admiring your beautiful face and all its features. His mind is only thinking about kissing you and how badly he wants to. If you two are ever alone, out of pure embarrassment he’d probably spill everything and tell you how he feels. Cutting him off with a loving kiss would be his dream response.

Jo

Is always masking his crush. He knows that if his friends knew they’d tell you, and he doesn’t want to live knowing that you know he’s obsessed with you. If you’re shorter than him, he’ll love when you stand next to him because he can look down into your eyes. He just loves the way you look when you smile at him from below. Can only think about how much he wishes you two were together.

Yuma

Straightforward tsundere vibes. Like will call you his but if you say the same thing he’ll act like he doesn’t like you. “Oh, y/n? Like with the pretty eyes and really kissable lips? No way!” All his friends know you have a thing for him and he has a thing for you. But you two would take ages to make it official. If someone calls him your boyfriend, he’ll hard deny it but when he gets home, he’s so happy people can see you two as a couple.

Harua

Shows his love by presence. Per example, if you have a sports meet he’ll be there. You don’t even have to ask. Just don’t question how he knows when your every practice is and game. Will drive you home if you’re too tired just to watch you sleep. A bit of a creep but like in the I love you way yk? Kisses your forehead when he thinks your asleep, even though you’re still awake.

Taki

Bakes you a lot of random shit. In contrast to Nicholas, he’s a homemade gift giver. Need a new tote bag? No need to buy one, he’s making I right now in your favorite color. Want a new sweater or a pair of cozy socks? As soon is gets cold outside he’ll make you smores cookies, hot chocolate, and anything you ask for.

Maki

Will PDA you to death. Probably hints at you two getting together for the longest time. “You know, anyone would be lucky to date you.” He’d tell you how he wishes he had a lover with hair or eyes like yours. He will invite you over a lot, but he’s awkward so you’ll sit there on his lap doing nothing for hours. But that’s how he likes to spend time with you.

[gennyanydots]

Matching Wits

How Jake met his wife. Part of the Spitfire Universe. Can be read alone.

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x f!reader

Masterlist

Spitfire universe masterlist

Warnings: threats of bodily harm (not to either main characters) and a knife.

“If you even try to talk to my friend again let alone touch her, I swear I will pull the knife out of my bra and shove it so far up your ass I’ll be able to see it out your mouth.”

Jake’s shocked to hear something like that come out of such a beautiful mouth. He’s sure as shit glad it wasn’t directed at him though. He doesn’t know the woman who just said it, but you didn’t look like you were kidding around. Jake’s been very impressed by the way you’re staring down the man you threatened in front of you even though you looks almost a foot shorter than him. You’re refusing to back down. Good for you. He’s proud of you.

“Whatever, she’s a bitch anyways,” the man grunts out before turning and walking away, making sure to run into your shoulder as he walked by.

The feisty little lady that Jake’s been watching put both middle fingers up at him and yells, “I’m sorry about your small penis!” then you turned and pulled your friend into a tight hug. Jake nearly chokes on his beer trying not to laugh at the penis comment.

Jake had been assessing the situation from his seat at the bar, in case he was needed of course. His mama would pitch a fit if she found out he had watched that man hurt one of those girls while he did nothing about it and he’s nothing if not the good southern gentleman his mama raised him to be. If you two had needed saved from that man then Jake would have been the first in line to step in but he clearly wasn’t needed at all. The girl with the knife had it all under control.

Jake was watching the scene unfold from the corner of his eye. Didn’t want to get caught watching the drama, which he was only watching in case back up was needed, definitely not because he wanted to hear all the smart remarks coming from your mouth. Jake’s always been drawn to women like you. The sassier the better. He likes a challenge. And yeah he knows all about that ‘you’re attracted to women who remind you of your mama’ shit and he knows his mama is a bit on the sassier side but he’s pretty sure that you could whoop his mama even on a good day.

And maybe it’s less being attracted to women like his mother and more he watched his parent’s relationship and he wants to emulate that for his own future. He watched as his father helped his mother through hard times, making sure to never put out her fire, just to dim it when needed (Mostly for safety reasons). He watched his mother put up with the fire in his father which rarely came out. He watched his father soothe his mother’s worries. He watched his mother drop everything for his father when he needed help. With that kind of an example why wouldn’t Jake want something like that?

Not that Jake was actively looking for anything right now. Jake was busy as hell at The Naval Academy. He had another year to go after this one and then off to Pensacola he goes.

He had come out tonight with a couple of his buddies. They had an overnight weekend leave so they thought going out drinking was the best way to spend their time. Jake had only been at the bar to grab the next round of drinks for them all before the whole show happened and there was no way he was going back to his buddies before he knew the two girls were safe and sound.

When Jake calls the bartender over for another round he asked if he could put the feisty girl and her friend’s next drinks on his tab, which the bartender was happy to do and then got him the drinks Jake had asked for. Jake thanks him and heads back to his friends who were playing pool.

“What took you so long?” Ryker asks.

Jake shrugs, “Some guy was being an asshole to some women and I didn’t want to walk away until I knew he was gone.”

Charlie chuckles, “You wanted to be their knight in shining armor?”

Jake shakes his head, “Didn’t need to be. The one told him she was going to shove her knife up his ass so he ran away.”

Charlie and Ryker both laugh at that then went back to their game. Jake only half pays attention to his friends, instead choosing to lean against the nearest wall and drink his beer while he surveys the bar. He liked to keep an eye on things wherever he is. Always assessing his surroundings.

He thought Charlie had come to stand beside him but ended up being really confused when he saw Charlie step up to the pool table to take his turn to shoot. Jake quickly glances beside him and shouts in surprise, “The fuck did you come from?!”

“Over there,” you, the feisty woman from earlier, say as you point to the table your friend was still sitting at.

“Jesus Christ woman, announce yourself better next time,” he says with a huff.

You grin, “Naw, this was way too funny for me to announce myself. Think I’ll keep doing it.”

Jake rolls his eyes, “Glad I could be your entertainment for the evening.”

“Glad I could be yours earlier,” you say with a laugh.

“What are you talking about? I was very subtle about that. How’d you even know?” Jake asks.

“You mean the subtle way you blatantly kept turning slightly and watching? Real subtle.”

“I just wanted to make sure he didn’t do anything,” Jake says with a shrug.

You reach up from the bottom of your shirt and shift around a bit before pulling a pocket knife out and flicking open the blade, “I had it under control.”

Jake snorts a laugh, “You’re not holding it right. You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“How am I supposed to hold it then?”

Jake takes the knife from you and shows you how to hold it before gently handing it back with the handle facing you.

You try, “Like this?”

Jake nods, “Better. The other way, if something accidentally caught on the closing mechanism you were going to chop off your finger tips.”

You make a face, “Ouch. Thanks for that.”

Jake nods at you.

“You know neither of us needed a man to buy us a drink…” you trail off.

“I can’t imagine you needing a man to do anything for you.”

“Except apparently show me how to hold a knife,” you say with a laugh.

Jake laughs too, “Yeah, except that. But now you’re all set. No need for a man. You’ve achieved greatness.”

You roll your eyes at his antics, “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

Jake nods, “Part of my charm?”

“Is that what you are? Charming?”

Jake grins, “When I want to be.”

“Oh yeah? And right now you want to be?” You say with a smile.

“Maybe, check back in with me in like ten minutes and I’ll let you know,” he says with a shrug which makes you laugh.

“So, what’s a girl have to do to make you want to be charming towards her?”

“Helps if they’re cute.”

“Okay, check that one off the list,” you say with a grin. “I am very well known for being cute.”

“How do you know that? Did you put out a survey?” Jake asks crossing his arms while raising an eyebrow.

You nod, “I did. Went door to door with a clipboard and everything.”

Jake chuckles, “Well I can’t argue with data.”

“No you can’t. So, what else?”

“Big fan of attitudes.”

You grin, “I’m two for two. Look at me go.”

“You don’t say,” Jake says with a wink.

“Is there anything else or are you about to charm the pants off me?” You ask with a giggle.

Jake moved to stand in front of you then held out his hand to you. You gave him a funny look. He nodded towards his hand while looking at you expectantly so finally you put your hand in his. He gently closed his hand around your’s before sharply pulling you towards him so you were pulled against his chest then wraps his other arm around your waist, still keeping your hand in his. He starts to gently sway to the music that both of you can just barely hear. He bends his head so his mouth is near your ear and starts to hum along. The two of you stay like that for a minute or two and then the song changes and Jake slowly dips you then stands you both back up and pulls away from you.

“How was that?” He asks while grinning, knowing full well that he did good.

“Yep, yeah, I would say you’ve sufficiently charmed the pants off me. Good job,” you say while you feel your face heat up.

Jake chuckles.

You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket and you pull it out, “Well shoot. My friend is ready to go home and I’m her ride.”

Jake nods, “Well I did my job so I guess you’re free to go.”

You go to your phone contacts and hit new contact and hand Jake your phone, “But that was just once. Definitely not enough data to back up your claims. Should probably do it again.”

Jake laughs and enters his number under ‘Prince Charming’ and hands you back your phone, “Hope to hear from you soon, darlin’.”

“I’m sure you will. Bye Jake,” you give him a little wave and he smiles and waves back. You head off to the table you left your friend at.

Jake turns back towards his buddies.

“Knife girl?” Ryker asks.

Jake nods and glances towards the direction you went off to and sees that you’re walking out the door, “Pretty sure I’m gonna marry her.” Later as Jake’s laying in bed scrolling on his phone he gets a text that says, “Are you data? Because the only pattern I recognize is how hot you are.”

[vodika-vibes]

I'll Protect You

Summary: Thire has a problem. That problem stands half a foot shorter than him, always greets him with a bubbly grin, and is dating someone who doesn’t deserve her. He’s willing to keep his opinion to himself, so long as she’s happy. But when she shows up at his barracks badly injured and bleeding, all bets are off.

Pairing: Commander Thire x F!Reader

Word Count: 1729

Warnings: Domestic Abuse

A/N: My brain didn't want to focus on any of my requests, and so this was born instead. Also, I've never been in this situation personally, so take everything I say here with a grain of salt.

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

It’s late. So late, in fact, that Thire should be asleep.

But he just can’t seem to relax enough in his bed to actually fall asleep. Every time he gets close the building will make a weird noise, or he’ll have a weird thought, or a worry will cross his mind—

It’s getting to the point that Thire is considering giving up on sleep.

It’s not like he’s never worked on no sleep before.

He just wishes he knew what was keeping him from falling asleep. It feels like something is looming over him, threatening him with something.

Thire’s stomach churns as the feeling of dread intensifies.

Something’s wrong. At least, his brain thinks there’s something wrong.

He huffs out a frustrated breath and finally sits up, his blanket pooling around his waist as he presses his face into his hands. Tomorrow is supposed to be his day off. He has plans to spend the day with his Sarad.

He can’t do that if he’s running on no sleep.

Well, he can, but his Sarad will worry and she’ll get that look on her face, and then he’ll have to throw himself in a holding cell for upsetting her. Which, admittedly, will only upset her more.

Maybe he’ll read a book or something? Sarad let him borrow some of her detective novels not that long ago—

Thire is about to swing his legs off his bed when he hears a light, almost hesitant, knock on the door to his room. He feels an immediate surge of annoyance. Just because he can’t sleep doesn’t mean that people can bother him—

Still, it might be important, he supposes. 

So, grudgingly, he trudges to the door and opens it.

The first thing he sees is his Sarad. She’s dressed in leggings and a tee-shirt, and her hair is pulled up, and she’s never looked prettier.

But then he looks closer.

Her left arm is clutched to her chest. Her face is covered in bruises, and there’s blood—

She’s bleeding.

His Sarad is bleeding.

The words don’t compute.

His Sarad can’t be bleeding. That would mean that someone laid hands on her.

“Sarad—”

“I’m sorry,” Her voice is thick with pain and tears, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know where else to go—” She moves the arm clutched to her chest slightly, and she winces.

“Sarad,” Thire reaches out and lightly tilts her head back so he can get a better look at her injuries. His hands are shaking slightly, “Did you get mugged, sweetheart?”

Her lower lip trembles and tears escape from her eyes, and she shakes her head, “...no.”

Thire tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and he has to release a slow breath when he sees that one of her earrings has been ripped out. It’s where the majority of the blood is coming from.

Poor thing, she must be in so much pain.

If she wasn’t mugged, then what—?

Thire scans her face, and she averts her gaze, shame crossing her face. He stares at her, and he knows what happened.

“Corr did this.” There’s a strange ringing in his ears, Thire doesn’t know if he's ever been this angry before in his life. Oh, sure, he never liked her boyfriend. But he didn’t hate the other man until this very moment.

She shrinks in on herself, “...he said I deserve this.” She even sounds like she’s trying to make herself smaller, and Thire wonders if she fears that he’s going to hurt her too.

Corr’s a dead man walking, he just doesn’t know it yet.

But, dealing with that can come later. Right now his Sarad needs him, and she’s so much more important.

“Let me pull on a shirt and I’ll take you to Suture, he’ll get you patched up.”

“I’m sorry,” She sounds so miserable that Thire wants to bundle her up in a blanket and hide her from the world. But that won’t help, so he pushes the instinct to the side.

“You don’t have to apologize, sweetheart.” He grabs the shirt he was wearing earlier that day and pulls it over his head, not bothering to fasten the collar and letting it hang open.

It’s not regulation, but honestly, fuck regulation.

“I woke you up, and I’m being such a bother—” 

Thire stares at her, and his heart sinks. How had he not seen this? His Sarad has always been so bright and warm and confident, and the woman standing before him doesn’t resemble her at all.

Was this Corr’s doing too?

Thire’s not stupid, he knows that abusers tend to start with mentally and emotionally breaking down their victims before turning physical. He just doesn’t understand how he didn’t see what was happening to her.

What kind of awful friend is he?

He reaches out and lightly presses a hand against her cheek, “I wasn’t asleep, and you could never bother me.”

“But…he said—”

“Corr couldn’t say ‘good morning’ without lying twice,” Thire interjects, “You’re not bothering me, and I’m glad that you trust me enough to come to me when you’re in trouble.”

Some of the distress fades from her face, and Thire feels a surge of relief. The last thing he wants is for his Sarad to feel like she’s a burden on him. Carefully, to not jostle her injured arm, he drapes an arm around her shoulder and guides her down to the infirmary.

Honestly, he plans to give her to Suture and then go and deal with Corr, but when she wraps her uninjured hand around the hem of his shirt, Thire changes the plan immediately.

Corr can wait, his Sarad can’t.

Several bacta treatments and a cast later, his Sarad is asleep on a hospital bed, clutching Thire’s hand close to her face. Clinging to him as if she’s afraid that he might vanish if she doesn’t.

Thire gently works the elastic out of her hair and sets it on the side table, before he uses his fingers to comb through the knots in her hair. He can tell by how it feels that she hasn’t washed it in a while, another thing he can lay at Corr’s feet, he’s sure.

“How is she? Really?” Thire asks as Suture steps back into the room.

Suture sighs, “Her injuries aren’t life-threatening,” He pauses and then shakes his head, “but they will hurt for a while.”

Thire hums his understanding, still combing his fingers through her hair.

He can feel Suture’s gaze on the back of his head, “Fox is never going to allow her to stay in the barracks.”

“Fox can get fucked, I’m not letting her go home until I’m sure she’s safe.”

“And I knew you were going to reply like that,” Suture sighs, “How do you intend to make her safe?”

Thire finally pulls his gaze from his sleeping Sarad to stare at his brother, “How do you think?”

“Talk to Fox before you do something stupid and get yourself decommissioned. You’re girl there will be a mess without you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Thire turns his attention back toward his Sarad and gently smooths her hair back, “Do you think I have a chance with her, Suture?”

“Don’t know, don’t care.” Suture drags a chair over and shoves it at him, “Here, get some rest.”

Gratefully, he sinks into the seat and lays his head on the bed. 

Finally, the feeling of dread has faded and he’s able to drift to sleep.

The following morning, Thire wakes with a start when he feels hesitant fingers carding through his curls. He turns his head and offers his Sarad the smallest of smiles.

The bruises look painful now that she’s had some rest, but he understands why Suture didn’t use bacta to patch up her bruises. It’s the same reason she’s wearing a cast…the Guard just doesn’t have much bacta to spare.

“How are you feeling?” Thire asks as he slowly sits up and slides the chair closer to the bed.

“A little sore…and a lot stupid.”

He gently cradles her face with his hands, “Why stupid, sweetheart?”

“...I should have known that he wasn’t as nice as he acted.” She closes her eyes as she leans into his touch.

“You couldn’t have known. I bet he hid his real personality from you.” Thire lightly strokes her cheek, careful to not add too much pressure, “At least he showed his true colors before you moved in together.”

Her smile is slightly bitter, “Yeah, I guess.”

Thire lightly taps the tip of her nose, “Hey. He’s never going to hurt you again.”

“You gonna arrest him for assault?”

Thire just grins, “Don’t you worry about that, sweetheart. All you have to worry about is healing.”

“I suppose I can do that.” She settles back on the pillow, watching him through tired eyes, “I’m sorry that I ruined the plans for today.”

“You didn’t ruin anything. I get to spend the day with you either way, though I will admit that this isn’t the venue I was expecting.” Thire teases, “Don’t worry so much, sweetheart.”

“Can’t help it,” 

“I know, that’s okay.” He lightly presses his lips against her forehead, and she relaxes under his gentle touch. Honestly, Thire is just glad that she doesn’t seem to be afraid of him.

“Why are you being so good to me, Thire?” She murmurs.

“Silly question, sweetheart. I love you, how could I be anything else.”

She leans back and blinks at him, “What?”

Thire grins, unrepentant, “I said what I said. I have to go and tell Fox you’re crashing here for a bit. Be nice to Suture.”

“Wait—”

Thire leans in and brushes his lips against the corner of her lips, “Later, sweetheart. I have work to do. I’ll see you at lunch. Promise.” He squeezes her hand gently, and then he leaves.

Now that his Sarad knows how he feels about her, he can deal with this Corr situation. After he runs it by Fox.

Thire and his Sarad finally manage to have this important conversation three days after Corr’s body is found in the drug den.

She tells him that she’s not ready for another relationship, not so soon as her last one imploding so fantastically. But she asks if he’d be willing to wait for her to be ready.

Thire’s answer is simple, he’d wait forever.

@imabeautifulbutterfly

@n0vqni

@bad4amficideas

@justiceandwar98

@mira-loves-star-wars

@tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023

@kimiheartblade

@padawancat97

@falconfeather23435

@etod

@bb8-99

@kiss-anon

@continous-mistakes

@yoitsjay

@liz-stat

@cc--2224

@adriennelenoir

@cdblake1565

@sweater-sloot

@heidnspeak

@wax-birds

@silly-starfish

@lonewolflupe

@maniacalbooper

[catboyfics]

Ghost of a Memory [part I]

I have finished part 1! This is more of an introductory chapter, and is much shorter than the others will be. Once I have part 2 finished, it will be posted. I will keep the same taglist, unless you ask me to remove you. I will also add people onto the taglist for the next part, just leave a comment :>

𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻

𝑭𝑨𝑵𝑫𝑶𝑴: COD

𝑷𝑨𝑰𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮: Ghost x m!reader

𝑮𝑬𝑵𝑹𝑬 & 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: hurt/comfort; male reader; violence, guns, death (not in this part), allusions to torture,

𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫𝑺: 1.7k

You could feel the quick rotations of the helicopter blades as you flew over the English countryside, bringing you to your new base. You were hardly expecting to stay long, you had a poor track record with that ever since you had become a soldier. Few places but the SAS would willingly take you because of your aggressive and destructive fighting style. Really, it was a miracle you were still a part of the army, and had even managed to stay in the special forces.

You’d used to be a part of the SRR – they did all of the reconnaissance and it was work that fit you well – but you ended up being transferred to the SAS after ‘The Incident’, at your request. Regaining your footing after all that had happened was… difficult, but you managed. You always managed.

You had been transferred to 19 Troop, specializing in mountain operations. You were usually away, helping international troops with their own missions. You spent a good amount of your time in Russia and Canada, before you were abruptly called back at the end of your mission. As soon as the helicopter had touched back down on the ground, you were sent to your Captain’s office. You knew your captain quite well as you saw him quite often.

“(l/n).” He called out seriously, looking at you with disappointment. You were a bit worried for a moment. Was this finally the point that the Special Forces would boot you out? You snapped out of your thoughts when he spoke again. “An international task force has heard about your skills and is looking to recruit you.”

That was… surprising. Your captain could clearly tell, because he took one look at you and spoke again. “I’ll give you until after dinner to think about it. It’s relatively urgent.”

You nodded strictly, saluting to him before turning and leaving the room. It wasn’t the first time you had been invited to join an international force, but they very rarely kept you around. Said you were too much of a liability. You wondered if it was even worth the effort. You were happy enough with what you were doing in 19 Troop, and the SAS was good to you. Then again, there wasn’t really anywhere to go from there if you wanted to stay on the field. You could become an officer, but that would defeat the point of you joining the SAS.

You didn’t want to think about it too hard, though. You did still have until dinner, and you wanted to make good use of that time. Your exit from Canada had been abrupt and disruptive. You weren’t exactly in the middle of an operation with the crew, but you were starting to plan for one. You had been a vital part of their plans, and you felt guilty for leaving them with an empty space. You hoped what you had trained them would help them through it, though you knew the Canadian Special Forces would be able to manage.

You took your time sorting through the belongings you had brought back, taking care to choose what you really needed to keep. You had spent more time with the Canadian soldiers than you thought you would, and they made a good impression on you. As much as you hated to admit it, you would miss them. You weren’t one for sentimentality, though, not after what had happened what seemed like so long ago.

You were snapped out of your memories when you felt the helicopter starting to descend. This was it, then. You mentally steeled yourself to meet your new team, a team you would only end up leaving after they remove you.

It was still a bit of a wait after the helicopter started its descent and eventually landed, though, and you had some time to yourself. You hated when that happened. It always led to thoughts about what happened that night. That night, you had seen unforgivable horrors. Atrocities, carnal sin. It made you want to purge the world of that evil yourself.

You ripped yourself from your thoughts, tearing a hole in the horrible memories before you were consumed entirely by them. It was a fight to get yourself back into service after what happened. Lucky you were a good actor.

You forced yourself to think of the only thing that could distract you from your memories: something worse. The force you were joining was infamous, though very little information was released about it. Task Force 141. You felt sweat gather in your palms as the helicopter approached their main base. You didn’t think you were particularly special yourself, and you wondered why you had been picked to join some of the best special OPs in the world. Apparently there was another SAS operative, maybe you'd be able to get along with him.

You sucked in a breath as the helicopter landed on the soft pad, grabbing the duffel bag you’d brought with you and standing up from the seat. It wasn’t a very comfortable seat, and your legs rejoiced to finally get up after the two-something-hours that you’d been sitting down.

The doors on the sides of the helicopter opened and you let yourself fall out, comfortably landing on your feet. You’d gotten very used to getting out of the helicopters easily, and the motion had become very slick. You still carried yourself like an SRR operative, despite your transfer. It was a habit you’d never broken.

As you walked towards the large concrete building, you saw a man standing there. You figured he was the captain of the task force. If you remembered correctly, he was called Captain Price. You switched your trajectory to him, walking with firm steps as you breezed through the air.

As you approached him, you stopped stiffly and saluted. In a loud voice, you announced “Sergeant (l/n), sir!”

You heard the man chuckle, and you almost felt self conscious until he spoke casually. “At ease, soldier. I’m Captain Price, I’m the captain of Task Force 141.” He announced, speaking in a calm voice. “I’m the one who requested you be transferred here. Thank you for coming.”

You nodded, letting your hand fall from its position at your forehead. You looked around, expecting to see some of your superior officers and other soldiers, but there was no one there. You frowned, wondering why, and the captain seemed to pick up on your confusion.

“I wanted to go over a few of the things in your file. Privately.” He said firmly, looking you in the eye before smiling gently. Those words sent chills down your spine. You didn’t want to have to act more, but it seemed you would have no choice, so you just nodded agreeably as he turned around and started to walk to the building beside you.

You made your way through the twisting halls of the base, looking at the room numbers, though they didn’t suggest much. You had passed by a few busy gyms, and a canteen. It seemed surprisingly busy for a task force. Busier than you were used to. You weren’t a huge fan of working in large teams. 

You were eventually brought to a large meeting room with a table and a plethora of empty chairs. At one end of the table, there was a large screen.  You took a seat, having another look around the room but finding nothing of note. Finally, the captain spoke up. You had been preparing for this.

“So, soldier, I want to make sure that you’re the right fit for this team. I don’t want any disasters happening because of your trauma.” He said sternly, getting straight into it. At least he didn’t bother with small talk.

“You don’t need to worry about that.” You said coldly, looking him in the eye as you answered. “I’ve already had a psychological evaluation done by a psychiatrist, and she said I was fine to go back out in the field.”

Price shot back almost immediately, like he had dealt with others like you. Maybe this team wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows.

“That doesn’t mean you’re fine to go back out into this field. I’m sure you’ve been briefed on what Task Force 141 covers.”

“I have, and it’s nothing I’ve not done before.” You explained coldly, going back through the motions. It had been a while since you had to put on this act. Before Price could get another word in, you spoke up.

“Trust me, Captain. A little bit of torture isn’t gonna do much to an agent of the SRR. I’ve been trained for much worse.”

The man looked like he wanted to fight back, say something to make you break, but you were completely right. SRR operatives had the most interrogation training out of all the other corps in the British Armed Forces.

“Alright. If you say so. If you’re struggling, though, there’s another guy who’s been through the same thing as you. He can help you.” The man said, though you couldn’t tell if it was more for his own peace of mind or yours. You only scoffed.

“I’ll be sure to stay away from him, then.” You mumbled, rolling your eyes when the captain looked at you with confusion. “People who have been through that aren’t usually very fun to be around. And anyways, no one can help me except for the Rileys, and they’re all dead.”

That shocked Price. He knew Simon Riley was famous as a cold blooded murderer, but as someone who offered help? He almost wanted to say you were too far gone then and there, but there was an edge to your voice he’d rarely seen before.

You didn’t want to stay much longer. The room was plain and the conversation brought up bad memories. You were great at hiding things, but not so much hiding from things. That’s why, instead of hiding from your past, you were hunting its ghosts. Hunting for the last traces of that damned Riley family. Hunting for salvation.

Salvation came at a great price. A price that had already been long since paid.

@imasimpsowhat06

Here is Part II

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[chaoticstarlightwonderland]

Danganronpa Characters as the Dungeon Meshi races

Makoto - Half-foot/human hybrid because he is forever short and baby-faced. It's been confirmed in side material that tall-man are able to produce children with halflings and gnomes and the offspring can reproduce (unlike half-elves) so I think it makes sense to have Makoto connected to the most underestimated races. In an adventuring party, he does a lot of the halfling jobs like looking for and dismantling traps. I also think because of his caring nature and how accident-prone he is Makoto learned some healing spells from his party's mage. He has low mana thought (2/5) so it's really in case of emergencies or as a simple first aid until real help can come.

Nagito - A half-elf. I think it would suit his brand of luck; born with a natural lifespan of 1000 years but has to watch anyone and everyone he loves pass away. Because he still has his luck cycles, everyone is sure is some kind of curse but no mage can do anything about it, let alone even understand it. He probably would go through a lot, losing his parents, being discriminated against, being sold off into illegal slavery, and probably a bunch of health problems. But Nagito is still Nagito, he just keeps kicking away.

Hajime - A normal tall-man who was frustrated with the fact that he was never particularly special in anything. I think when he found out he had even a hint of magic he begged his parents to send him to a magic boarding school they could barely afford, only to find out first-hand how lacklustre his magic was compared to the kids. Hajime pushed himself to continue studying, which lead him down a path of dungeon hunting, and of demons. He made a deal which backfired on him, turning into a Lord of the Dungeon and slowly becoming "Izuru Kamukura-ised". If/when he gets out of the demon's thrall, his case is a lot like Mithrun's. Although he does have more skills outside of wanting to hunt demons, that was because of the initial deal he made. Hajime lost the ability to enjoy his talents or get satisfaction from being skilled. He is more talented than ever but he is incapable of enjoying it.

Junko and Mukuro - Demons. Junko is a demon that helps people achieve their hopes and desires and feeds on their happiness. This makes people think she is the nicer sister but that just means she enjoys giving people what they want and watching their despair as they lose the capacity to enjoy it. Mukuro is described as a 'war demon' because she grants humans their wishes with violence and feeds off their rage and the resulting bloodbath. However, over time she actually grew to love the humans (at least more than Junko) because it was so shocking to see the kindness that mortal beings can show each other, especially when she has seen first-hand the cruelty they are capable of.

Now for the shorter ideas that I still think are interesting:

Fuyuhiko - A half-foot that is the heir to a shockingly powerful crime/loan shark family. His family flew under the radar for a long while because the Elves and Gnomes kept underestimating them until they become so powerful they couldn't be handled.

Peko - A tall-man who was abandoned by her parents when she was young and was brought by Fuyuhiko's family to be his servant and bodyguard.

Chihiro - A Gnome mage who is very talented in communicating with spirits. He has one such spirit that he has raised all by himself that is this reality's 'Alter Ego'.

A minor thing, in a side comic it was said that the races consider music to be the thing that Tallmen are known for, so I think all the characters who have interest in music are Tallmen. That includes Kaede, Sayaka, Ibuki, Hiyoko, and Leon.

I'd love to hear people's thoughts and suggestions!!

[soapybutt17]

Light of My Life

Summary: The New Year meant new things for everyone in the Price Household. A not-so new face had also become an addition to the chaos if it all. Characters: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Price!Female Reader. John Price. Simon Riley. Soap MacTavish. Word Count: 3,146 Chapter Warnings: None A/N: @glitterypirateduck: here is part two like I promised. hope you enjoy~

Part 2 for Your Are My Sunshine

Masterlist | Series Masterlist || Request are Open

“Why are you more nervous than me?” Kyle couldn’t help but point out the moment the car has stopped in front of a rather large farm house a few hours outside the city.

As Kyle stepped out of the car and gazed up the vast expanses of rolling green hills, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe. You had always spoken about your family’s farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, but nothing could have prepared him for the sheer grandeur of the place.

The farmhouse stood proudly at the crest of a gentle slope, its stone walls weathered by centuries of wind and rain. Ivy clung to its sides, giving it a rustic charm that was impossible to resist. A slate room crowned the structure, and a tall, stone chimney sent a plume of white smoke spiraling into the clear blue sky. The whole scene was like something out of a fairy tale.

You led Kyle up the gravel path that wound its way to the front door, and as they approached, he couldn’t help but notice the colorful flowerbeds that lined the walkway. Brilliant reds, purples, and yellows contrasted with the lush green grass, creating a vibrant tapestry of colors that he would have only seen in movies.

As you finally knocked on the door, the noise from the inside of the house halted. Kyle had only notice now in his amazement the array of voice that could be heard from the inside.

Opening the door, your father, Captain John Price, stood talk. A deep frown rested on his lips the moment his eyes met him as well as your own. The frown grew even bigger the first moment he caught sight of your hands holding onto his own.

“Darling. Sergeant.” Price had acknowledged, opening the door further to let the two of you inside.

That had somehow surprised him. The Captain’s reaction was the last thing you would have expected to give him at this point after hiding his relationship with his daughter and how he had downright lied through his teeth for well over a year because of it.

What surprised him even more was the sight of two familiar co-workers that also seemed to be just as surprised as the two of you the moment you step foot inside.

“What the hell are they doing here?” You questioned but your question was immediately tackled into a hug by your mother.

“You finally brought your boyfriend along. He’s a handsome fella too.”

Kyle was left stun by the short woman—shorter than you were which was saying a lot as you barely reached his shoulders and you were a few inches taller than her. But her height did compensate at how much of a firecracker she was as he was being pulled away from the pack of lion ready to devour him.

With the two of you dragged into the kitchen, Kyle was had come to realize that the apple doesn’t fall far from the three as she began her array of questions about your drive to the farm, and how meeting his parents had gone. All of which you had answered with the same enthusiasm as your own mother. The smile on your face return, Ghost and Soap being in the house was momentarily forgotten.

“I’ve dealt with your father and the two boys for you two. So you’re both safe from them for the rest of the night.” She winked towards him and he had let out a sigh of relief because of it.

“Thank you.” Kyle spoke. “I’m sorry for coming without notice.” He apologized being another mouth to feed for tonight.

“Nonsense. When I learned that Simon and Jonny were coming I’ve made food that is enough to feed the entire army.” She spoke as a matter of factly. “Besides, I am still hoping that my daughter would finally bring you along to meet us. I’m happy that she finally did—even if the circumstance isn’t on your end on this.”

Kyle nodded before turning towards you knowing the implication of his arrival.

“Now since I’ve pulled you two away from the chaos of the three boys still in the living room, why don’t you two head upstairs to your bedroom to freshen up, I’ll deal with your father for you for the time being.”

~

John Price was not happy one bit. Not even the fact that he was home for once for the holidays could brighten his mood. Not even the fact that all his children were in the same room or the fact that his own sets of children in the base were also here to celebrate the New Year could brighten his mood.

How could he be so blind to not see it?

His daughter that had been through so much growing up with a father that gave you so much empty promises that it took him years to even allow him to make his own and keep. The daughter that might not have been his blood but he loved just the same like the rest of his own. The daughter that he would die over and over again if it meant you were happy and safe.

How could he have not seen the way you look at his boy Gaz, the man that he had immediately taken under his wing since the incident in Piccadilly. The man that he had hope to be better than he could ever think of being in his career. The man that was torn and pulled apart for the war that had no beginning nor end. The man that he would take a bullet for if it ever come to it.

How could he not see the way you two look at each other the way that you did in front of him now?

“They look so in love. He looks are her just like how you look at me.”

His attention had turned away from the happy couple and turned to his own beloved. When he had first found out about you and Gaz making out in the parking lot for Soap and Ghost to see, he had a mind to drive straight to Gaz’s house just to beat the living shit out of the man, but his wife was godsend. Immediately putting her foot down at his plan and brought all the anger he had to a halt.

“I don’t look at you like that.” He muttered, refusing to admit as such—not wanting to be compared to Gaz at the moment.

“So you don’t look at me with love, John?”

“I didn’t say that.” He muttered turning his attention back to the pint of beer in his hand. “I have my own way of looking at you.”

“Like you want to get into my pants?” She teased him.

“I mean—” He trailed off with a smirk, earning a light slap onto his chest and the all too familiar giggle from her.

“You’re impossible.” She rested her cheeks against his shoulder, her eyes glued to the picture perfect sight of their daughter and his—Sergeant. “After everything we’ve been through, I never thought I would see the day that she’s happy with someone.”

“She had always said that she swore off men after what her father did to you.” John grunted, the memory of those words still haunted him.

How such a little girl like you back then had been forced to grow up and see that not everyone could be kind—not even your blood. It was a statement that had haunted them all for years. If he’s not as good as Daddy John, I don’t ever want to have any man. It was a revelations for him back then, not only how your mind works as a toddler, but how you had finally called him Dad instead of the Mister Price or Mister John. It was at that moment that he had vowed to himself that he would make sure you had everything you could ever want, protected from any kind of heartache that may come into your life.

“She ate her words.” His wife acknowledged. “Don’t be too hard on Kyle. You always said that he was a good man. What difference does it make now that he’s seeing our daughter?”

She was right. She was always right when it comes to situations like this. But he couldn’t help but still be the overprotective father to you. He could throw you into the deepest parts of hell for missions because he was confident in your capabilities, but this was different. To him, he couldn’t do anything to save you from any form of heartache that would come your way.

“I don’t want her to get hurt anymore.” John finally admits.

The boisterous laughter of his children and that of Soap filled the air, the way you had egged Soap on with Kyle as his kids tackled Soap to the ground. But his mind was still filled with the dread of such a possibility. He could not see himself being able to see you heartbroken all over again over a man that disappointed you. He did not have the heart to look at Gaz the same way if he decided to hurt his baby girl.

“We can’t stop that, John. You and I know that. All that we could do is be there for her if ever the time comes. But seeing Kyle, seeing him with our daughter, I doubt that would even happen.”

“How could you know?”

“I just know. You have to trust me on this.” She winked finally standing up and announcing it was getting close to midnight.

John’s eyes turned towards the clock. It was few minutes to midnight and the New Year. With one command from him for everyone to head outside for the fireworks. Everyone scrambled out, Soap and the kids dashing out and racing to see who would be first. It left John and his wife for a moment in the sudden silence of their home.

“I trust you.” He whispered to his wife as they walked hand and hand outside to everyone standing around waiting.

The crisp cold air immediately hand him pulling his jacket off and wrapping around his wife. He had also noticed the same gesture that Kyle did for you. His jacket wrapped snuggled around you and you beamed at him as thanks.

Again, his wife was right.

As everyone awed at the fireworks that began to explode into the air, his arms had wrapped around his wife, but his gaze shifted back again towards you, how you snuggled into Gaz’s arms, both of your gaze up towards the sky as everyone began to countdown to welcome the New Year.

10.

9.

8.

7.

6.

5.

4.

3.

2.

1.

Happy New Year!

The dark skies burst bright from the fireworks, and he had pulled his wife in for a kiss. Well over two decades together, who would have ever thought that this would be the life he would have for himself.

“Happy New Year.” He whispered against her lips before his attention turned back to every single one of his family.

His children wrapping their arms around Simon and Soap as they wished them a happy new year, to his daughter that had her eyes close and forehead resting against Gaz’s own, words that he couldn’t read were exchange between the two of them before Kyle gave you a gentle kiss on the lips, the nose, and finally the forehead.

Maybe his wife was right. Gaz could make you happy again.

~

“Dad! We’re on holiday!”

Kyle couldn’t help but smile at your overprotectiveness for him and his sake. But for the past twelve hours, he was left unscathed at the hands of his Captain and the two overprotective older brothers you had earned in Soap MacTavish and Simon Riley. It was a win on his book but not something he would want to test.

So when his Captain had asked him for a quick walk out in the open fields the following morning, he did not even attempt to refuse the offer. But it did scare him that he had been adamant that Simon and Soap to not join along even as the Scot had insisted on it. He knew well enough to know that he wanted to talk, not as his Captain, but as the father of his girlfriend.

“It’s fine.” He tried to reassure you but the frown on your lips grew deeper refusing to break the glare that was still directed at your father.

“I agreed with your mother that I will not do anything during the New Year party, I never promised not to after.” Price had pointed out with a grin, it was his own little way of getting on your nerves and it was working far too well than even he would expect.

“You’re impossible, Dad.” You muttered plopping yourself onto the dinner table for breakfast.

Kyle turned to look towards your mother as she had placed a place of full English breakfast in front of you with an extra serving of eggs just like what you always liked. She shared a pointed look with her husband whose smile slowly fell before making his way outside to wait for him.

“Don’t worry about him, his bark is worse than his bite.” She had reassured but Kyle knew it wasn’t always the case. Working for him for as long as he did, his bite was all the more worse than his bark especially when he was certain it was for the greater good—greater good for this case was his daughter.

“I hope so.” Kyle joked, but the fear was all too evident in his voice.

Kyle had ignored Soap’s teasing as he finally made his way out of the house. His Captain was patiently waiting with his arms crossed against his chest. The moment he had noticed he was out, he began to walk and Kyle was left to follow him in silence.

It had been a five minute walk, the cool morning air a welcome companion to what he would expect would be a heated discussion between him and the man walking in front of him. All the anxiety of the secret he had hidden from him had continued to eat him up as the walk continued but he was afraid to start the conversation.

“Did she ever tell you about her biological father?” Price had began as they had halted by the herd of cattle by the meadows.

“Yes Sir.” Kyle responded.

It was the first thing you had ever told him early on in your relationship, how it had shaped the way to view relationships in general. He had know early on that there would be a possibility of what they had to be over before it had even started. He had thanked his lucky stars that it didn’t. Lucky enough that he could be everything you had hoped out of a relationship that you wanted and needed.

“Then I don’t need to tell you why I am not keen on having anyone dating my daughter, especially with someone that she works so closely with.”

Price had finally turned to look at him. Kyle had been all too familiar with the look. The stern cold wall that he used to intimidate any adversary that would even dare come their way. It was unnerving that he was directed with such a gaze instead of being in the background witnessing some other poor soul.

 “Yes Sir.” Kyle agreed. “But I love your daughter, Sir. We have thought it would be best for everyone to keep in a secret until she was good and ready.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“Over a year, Sir.”

“And what are you intentions with my daughter?”

Kyle took a moment, wanting to form his words carefully without causing more tension and chaos in their relationship going forward.

“I want to be the man she could depend on when she needs me to be. I want to be the man that could make her the happiest that she could be. I—I just want to be by her side whatever relationship it may be that she would want and need from me.”

He waited with bated breath as the Captain stared at him, scrutinizing his words carefully for all it was worth. Kyle was thinking that he was mincing his words and looking for anything that would incriminate him as insincere, but he was certain he would not find any.

“I want you to know, Sergeant.” He began. “That if I ever learn that you hurt her, in any shape or form, I would be the last person you should be worried about. You will worry for your career, for your safety, for your life if you even dare hurt a single hair from her pretty little head.”

Kyle gulped but nodded, knowing that this was no longer his Captain, but the father of his girlfriend that would drag him to the deepest parts of hell if he makes so much as a mistake of making you cry.

“But last night, when I saw her with you, she was the happiest I have ever seen. It was rare and far between when she was like it. The first time I’ve seen it was when I told her that I was officially adopting her as my own daughter. Those bright eyes that twinkled in a love she never thought she would ever deserve. I saw it when she looks at you.”

Kyle couldn’t help but smile at such an information. He know the look he was talking about, he was certain that he was giving you the same, a look that was even more in love and adoration for you and everything that you do for him.

“You have my blessing when it comes to your relationship, but just know that you will both endure a couple of weeks of intense drills for lying to me about your relationship.”

Kyle thought as much. He nodded shoving his hands onto his pocket and only now did he realize the small box nestled deep inside his sweatpants.

“I also wanted to ask you blessing for something, Sir.” He began pulling out the velvet box for the man to see.

The Captain took a moment to realize what it was before a chuckle escaped his lips.

“I should have expected this.” He shook his head. But agreed nonetheless.

It didn’t take long for their holiday off to end and everyone was back to their normal lives inside the base and in mission. It did take long for Kyle to propose, who would have ever thought that he would in the brink of death while you held him close to you.