he picks my dog's nose a lot

Until Sunrise

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Summary: As Kim Taehyung’s guardian angel, your job was to protect him, not fall in love with him. But the moment he saw you, he didn’t want to let go, and neither did you.

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Angel AU

Prompt: “Please don’t leave me.” (request by anon)

Word Count: 5.2k

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moments | c.h.

an ongoing series of short writings about being with calum, which can be read in any order.

a picnic

in which calum realises that he thinks about you a lot.

‘Me and you,’ he continued, his voice soft and lilting. ‘Maybe a couple of dogs, on a big property with rolling hills and an old house, forever.’

the laundry debacle

in which calum fought with a robot sink and lost.

‘Slow down,’ you said, spinning him around to face you. ‘You’re not a failure just because you don’t know how to do the laundry.’

i’m sick, you know?

in which calum, bless his soul, is deliriously unwell.

‘I miss being able to breathe through my nose,’ Calum mused sadly, picking at a loose thread on your sweatpants. .

despondent plants

in which calum, with the aid of a potted plant, realises how much he misses you.

‘Yeah,’ he said, the word getting stuck in his throat. ‘‘M still here, sorry, I got distracted. There’s a… pot plant here.’

gauzy curtains

in which calum ditches his terrible novel for a cuddle with you.

Groaning a little, he shifted until he was comfortable, wrapping his arms around you and pushing his face into the crook of your neck.

it was in the way which

in which we discuss calum’s life as not only a rockstar, but also a soft and loving man.

It was in the way that he grumpily nudged you awake, mumbling something about the taxi leaving soon and gently threatening to push you off the bed if you stayed asleep.

with you

in which calum wakes up from a well needed nap with you.

There were a lot of things that he missed while he was tour but god, he missed you the most.


in which i describe a fleeting moment with calum, written for nadya.

Calum laughed under you, his eyes crinkling.

Diss The Pretty Boy : Scenarios

Anon: Since I need more content of my faves to indulge in…. Could you write a scenario where Kyoutani, Iwaizumi, and Tanaka find out the girl they’re crushing on likes them back, and they’re rly surprised since they thought that she liked one of the “pretty” boys (like Oikawa)? Thank you sm in advance!! <3

Female pronouns used as requested!


Kyoutani’s face was aflame as you swung your interlocked fingers. The brisk, early November air had meant that Kyoutani now had the absolute pleasure of both wrapping his blue muffler around your neck, and the contentment sitting in his chest from the fact that you liked him back

It was almost like a dream. 

A dream where you would greet him every morning with a beautiful smile and ‘Good morning, Kyou-kun!’. A dream where you would cheer him on at matches and glare at Oikawa whenever he called him a ‘Mad Dog’. (”Well if he’s a mad dog then he’s my mad dog!” You had proclaimed and he almost fainted from blood rush on the spot.) A dream where he would takes his muffler back and it’d smell like your perfume — a lovely mixture of roses and lilacs that made his heart soar and his lips curve into a smile.

But something still prodded at his mind, a feeling that he couldn’t shake off. “Hey, y/n… Why- Why’d’ya pick me?”

You peered at him in confusion, burying your nose in the muffler. (Kyoutani blushed bright red.) “What do you mean? I like you Kyoutani, a lot.”

He flushed and looked away but squeezed your hand reassuringly. “I know you do, but I thought you liked those… pretty boys, like Oikawa-senpai and that ashy haired setter from Karasuno.”

You thought for a moment, looking away with brows furrowing in concentration until you looked back at him. “They are pretty,” you admitted. “But Oikawa-senpai is air headed and narcissistic. Suga from Karasuno was nice enough but he doesn’t have interest in anyone.”

Kyoutani looked at you and smiled tentatively, hooking your fingers closer with his. “Besides,” you continued as you stopped him underneath a tree bare of leaves. “I’ve liked you since we did that project together.”

With a swift movement you had leant up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek and then gone, running down the street to your house  laughing and waving as Kyoutani watched you with a blush and a flabbergasted expression.

His fingers grazed his cheeks and he smiled.

Oh how he adored you.


The pink, floral fragranced (It was your perfume, he realised a while after it, and he swore he was in love) letter was tucked into his breast pocket, and the mere thought of it made his cheeks flush, his chest swell and caused his heart to beat a hundred times a second — despite it having been a month since you gave it to him.

When you had given it to him he was absolutely mortified to learn that you had waited until after to practice to give it to him (”It’s cold,” he insisted as he handed over his club jacket, pressing it into your arms when you protested. His skin was like an oven on yours.) and that you had done it in front of people. Not because he was going to reject it — no, he had liked you for as long as he could remember — but because the club were forced watch as he flushed red, read over the letter and accepted immediately.

You had taken to waiting for him to finish practice so you could walk home together. Sometimes you’d sit in the gym and do homework, other times you’d go to the music room to practice the piano. But he’d walk you to the front door of your house almost every evening (save from when either of you had to hurry home, were ill or were away) and he’d press a careful kiss to your forehead before leaving with a mumbled goodbye. And you’d watch him leave fondly.

“Tanaka,” you asked him as you rounded the corner onto your street, the streetlamp above you both casting a ghoulish orange glow. “Is something bothering you?”

“No,” he replied gruffly.

He didn’t meet your eyes.

You stepped in font of him and stopped, reaching up to squeeze his face between your palms, pouting at him. “Tanaka~” You whined, and he flushed red, still refusing to meet your eyes. An idea popped into your mind; drastic times call for drastic measures. “Ryuu~” you cooed and his eyes snapped to yours.

“There you go,” You whispered fondly before you fixed yourself with a stern, serious expression. “What’s wrong?” You repeated.

Tanaka looked at his feet and scuffed the toes of his shoes. He mumbled something.


“I was just wondering why you chose me if you liked pretty boys like Shittykawa.” He mumbled louder and his face crumpled when you laughed loudly.

“Of course I don’t!” You managed to splutter, and he looked at you worriedly. “Why on earth do you think I’d like an airhead like Oikawa-san?”

He pouted. “Because… you could get any guy you wanted. And Oikawa’s really handsome…” he trailed off, the rest of the sentence left unsaid but heard as loud as day.

“But Ryuu, why would I want Shittykawa when I have my Prince Charming standing in front of me?”


It seemed like Iwaizumi who the only one was stunned when you both confessed your feelings to each other. (That’s not technically true — Oikawa was too. “Ha! Iwa-chan has a girl now! He’s getting soft!” The comment had left the setter with a sore head and a scary warning from the male who had been confessed to.)

There’s no doubt that she likes me, he tried to tell the more paranoid part of his brain. You can see it in her eyes.

And yet, he was still anxious and scrutinising you whenever you looked away, cursing himself immediately after. He felt terrible, he knew he was just being paranoid (and maybe even slightly stupidly jealous) but it still ate at him until the scrutinising glances where more like staring.

“What’s wrong, Iwaizumi-kun?” You asked through your chopsticks before you cried out and dropped your bento and utensils to the ground, scrubbing at your cheek with a napkin. “Is there something on my face?”

His lips curved up slightly as he watched you frantically wipe around your mouth before he reached out and stopped you, lowering you hand down. “No, you don’t.”

“Ah,” you sighed in relief, picking your lunch back up. “That’s a relief. Wait, Iwaizumi-kun, you’re doing it again — is there really nothing on my face?”

He chuckled. “Yes, I’m sure.” He assured her before he looked away, sighed and looked back at her. “Hey, y/n, before we confessed to each other, I thought you liked pretty boys like Shittykawa, but I’m wrong aren’t I?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yes, you are,” you grinned happily. “I like handsome aces with nice arms like Iwaizumi-kun.”

He flushed pink at this and scowled, though you knew it was just all for show.

“Hmm, well I like cute, pretty girls like y/n-chan,” Iwaizumi said quietly, so only you could hear and you flushed red in the cheeks.

“Ah, Amazing.” you chirped as you placed your chopsticks in your mouth. “Bara-kun never calls me ‘-chan’.” You added quietly, and Iwaizumi looked up, having heard you mumble.


“Nothing, Iwaizumi, nothing.”

Can you tell I love Tanaka a bit too much? I’m sorry!

Iwaizumi is the ultimate bara-kun, bless his arms. Remember to pray to the flag of Iwa-chan! 

[reminder that the inbox is closed for requests but open to chat or talk about headcanons/fanfiction!]

- Admin Emi

Broken Nose

***Y/n is Liam’s sister and always beat up everyone who made fun of Liam, so all the school is scared by you and even your bf Stiles doesn’t want to make you angry***

As you walk down the halls, the students part like the red sea. It was something you had become accustomed to. Your reputation had that effect on people. It didn’t used to be like this, it all started when Liam got to high school. He’d been getting bullied and let’s just say you don’t take kindly to people pushing around your flesh and blood. You weren’t exactly sure if this reputation was a good thing or a bad thing.

You flounce up and tap on Stiles’ shoulder. He turns around and has a little panic attack when he sees you. Resulting in him on the ground, clutching his chest.

You roll your eyes. “Not you too, Stiles.”

He picks up the books he dropped and stands back up giving you a sheepish smile. “Can you blame me? You broke the noses of half the hockey team.”

You shrug, smoothing out a crease on your dress. You both turn in the direction of your next class, you walk side by side. “Stiles. You’re my best friend, I’m not going to break your nose any time soon. Well, I don’t plan to. Anyways, they were giving Liam crap so I thought I would just have words with them.”

“You can’t just go around punching everyone that bullies Liam, (y/n).” He says nudging your shoulder gently.

“What do you mean?” You ask.

Stiles goes into himself a little bit, he looks like you’re about to punch him. “Well, you’re not always going to be around. Besides, what if you get caught?”

“I’m not going to get caught.” That is something you’re sure of.

You and Stiles stop in front of the door and you lean against its frame. Stiles leans in a little, he does that a lot when he’s worried about something.

“What? Do you think that they’re not going to notice that a quarter of the school’s male population keep getting their noses broken? What if they dob you in? Aren’t you worried about that at all?”

You smile at him, cocking your head like you’re looking at a cute little puppy dog. “Stiles, these boys already have low self-esteem if they are picking on freshman. What do you think they’re going to say? Coach, (y/n) broke my nose because I was bullying her brother. There’s no way they’re going to admit that a girl beat them up. Wanna know the best part?”

Stiles sighs, knowing that there’s no arguing with you and that you’ll continue to protect Liam even if he doesn’t need protecting. “What?”

“I beat their asses and didn’t even get any blood on my dress.” You smile as your latest victim scrambles between you and Stiles to get into the classroom.