Congrats on ur 200 followers! I was thinking maybe headcanons with Quinn Hughes with a reader that is so energetic at random times!
thank you my love!! ๐ซถ๐ฝ and thank you for the request. even though it wasn't in my list of requests I take, but it's okay my love! ๐ฉท๐ซถ๐ฝ I hope you'll like it!!
masterlist
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!๐๐๐๐๐ who loves his girlfriend so much, that even if he's tired after a long week of games, he's willing to go on an hour-long walk in the park, just to see her happy and with the biggest smile when she sees a squirrel on a tree.
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!๐๐๐๐๐ who can't stop laughing at his too-energetic girlfriend, who is running around the apartment doing something, almost tripping over her foot every few minutes.
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!๐๐๐๐๐ that loves how his girlfriend can tire his two energetic brothers only in two hours of doing whatever comes to her mind.
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!๐๐๐๐๐ can't stop the smile forming on his lips whenever he comes back from a game and finds his girlfriend already standing at the door waiting for him to give him a hug and kiss.
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!๐๐๐๐๐ that has to laugh at his brothers' faces when they see how energetic his girl is even though they were on a ten-mile-long walk only an hour ago.
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!๐๐๐๐๐ who loves how passionate is his girl over something so simple like a puzzle, mandalas, or baking cookies.
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!๐๐๐๐๐ who love waking up to an apartment filled with a delicious smell and his girl in the kitchen only in his Vancouver shirt as she sways her hips and sings softly to the music she's playing from her phone.
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!๐๐๐๐๐ who loves teasing his girlfriend, that if they had a baby, it would be all her. Not sleeping at night, always crawling on the ground, not being able to sit in one place for a few minutes.
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!๐๐๐๐๐ who is sometimes relieved that his girl finally falls asleep and he has some time to do nothing just watch a hockey game playing on a tv.
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!๐๐๐๐๐ who would never admit it, but he loves it when he, after his practice, finds his girl jumping around their apartment recalling her notes as she's trying to study for her upcoming exams.
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!๐๐๐๐๐ who calls his girl crazy rat, when she's purposely annoying him.
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!๐๐๐๐๐ who loves how his teammates love his girl and are so excited to see her whenever she comes to the game or with him on practice.
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!๐๐๐๐๐ who sometimes wished he had some sedatives with himself to calm her when she's too much to handle.
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!๐๐๐๐๐ who can't imagine his life without his too energetic girlfriend.
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as a thank you for hitting 1k followers, and an apology for my absence, I would like to share my take on poly!141.
poly141! x recruit!reader. 1.5k words. mentions of sex, although no smut. yet.
you're a sweet little thing. smart as a whip, nerdy, and confident. having spent most of your post highschool graduate years studying, youve acquired numerous impressive qualifications. while most people your age in university were out partying, getting blind drunk, hooking up, you were studying.
a tech genius. that's what laswell had sold you as to price. he had been hesitant to allow any new members at all, especially ones so young. and yet, taskforce 141 sees two new additions. the newest little tech genius who's climbing quickly through the ranks, and another soldier. someone by the name of roach.
at first, you weren't amused. as a woman in the military, your life was already difficult enough. being assigned to an all male taskforce felt like your worst nightmare. but after some convincing from laswell, and realizing this would be the fastest way to make a name for yourself, you sign the papers.
your first week is smooth, albeit awkward. you and the other new recruit, roach, get along fairly well. he's funny, a little dorky, but obviously skilled. he isn't as intimidating as the others, being almost as young as you. you find yourself gravitating to him often, often staying up late together, eating meals together, and even training together. you make quick friends.
and so, it's only natural that you both end up becomingโฆ closer. late night talks turn into makeouts, and makeouts turn into grinding. it's somewhat clumsy howeverโฆ as if the two of you can quite place the power dynamics.
the others, however, are much more of a challenge to get along with. you're cautious, aware these men have been in this business much longer than you. the four of them- price, ghost, gaz, and soap- are a power unit. it takes weeks for you to find your place within the team.
price tries to be welcoming, although it doesn't quite work. there's this sense of authority and power around him that makes you feel small, almost submissive. his gruff voice sends shivers down your spine each time he speaks over comms, panties growing wet each time he gives you a direct order.
it's almost as if he knows, whispering your name rather than your military nickname. his voice sounds almost seductive. it makes you feel like a pervert, imagining him growling in your ear each time you get off.
price has a way of always remaining in control and not just with you. the power dynamics within the task force are subtle yet well established. there seems to be a chain of command that follows their ranks. price on top, then ghost, then gaz and soap. you notice how they all drop casual innuendos, their affection for each other, corssing over the boundary of just friendliness.
ghost barely looks, let alone, speaks to you for the first month. you're unsure if he even likes you. on the field, he's sharp and alert. you occasionally hear him share banter with the others, but never feel brave enough to join in. the man is intimidating, almost three times your size, a quiet sort of confidence and dominance that follows him around. he's the one you train with most often.
ghost is ruthless. he slams you into the matt, somehow always ending up between your thighs, his big hands holding them apart and pinning you down. you can't help but memorise the sight. your Lieutenant, panting, slightly sweat as he holding you in such a lewd position, glaring down at you.
it's your favourite fantasy to think about late at night as you touch yourself, unaware that the walls are so thin that ghost himself hears you whimper his name. he strokes himself in time with the slick noises of your cunt, imagining how desperate you must look.
gaz isn't intimidating, per say. he isn't distant like ghost or unapproachable like price. the man has such a casual confidence and arrogance around him. he's the first to speak to you, ask you about yourself. throughout your career, you've met many military soldiers. most the men fit into two categories, misogynistic dicks who don't believe you have a place within the ranks, or disgusting perverts who want a quick fuck (most of them have wives, even kids.) but gaz is refreshing. he fits into neither.
he often starts conversations with you. asking questions and truly listening as you speak. little do you know he records each one, saving them for when he's alone late at night. something about the way you speak, your tone, the quiet rasp or accent, it makes him stupidly hard. he's not above recording you while you workout, standing just close enough to capture each huff and grunt as you lift. it's those recordings that get him off the quickest, wondering how whiny youd sound if he held a vibrator to your clit, didnt let up until you were crying and covered in slick.
and soap. the man is difficult for you to read. your first impression is that he's one of those men who fit into the โmisogynistic assholeโ category. apart from your initial meeting, he practically ignores you.
you can tell its not deliberate. he just seems more immersed in the natural, pre-established dynamic of the taskforce. the one that doesn't include you. it takes a while, but after a month or two, your interactions become more common.
he turns out to be very respectful- even helpful. due to your background in tech, you skipped a few ranks when you joined. soap helps you in the shooting range. standing behind you, body pressing into yours from behind, correcting your posture before you fire.
you even create games with each other. he gives you little quizzes. theyre normally about gun components, military jargon, or even field upgrades. with each quiz he promises a โreward.โ
its embarrassing whenever you blush and grow wet when he says it. the rough growl of his voice, combined with the accent he has, all makes you dizzy. you don't even notice how he plays it up, practically purring out the word, smirking as you squirm, making sure to graze his fingertips over your hot skin.
it's obvious that after a month or two, that roach is significantly more acclimated than you. it feels unfair. your relationship with each member is steadily growing, yet something about how roach interacts with them is so different. it's like you're missing a puzzle piece.
it isn't until one night when you're venting your frustration that roach reveals the reason he's clicked with them so quickly.
โIt's like an initiation,โ he smirks, eyes flicking away from you, โthink of it kind of likeโฆ. hazing.โ his eyes are almost predatory as he meets yours again, so unlike the goofy persona he usually has, โif you like, I could speak to price. they have started to discuss inviting you in.โ
it's as if everything made sense now. it wasn't your fault. it was another case of discrimination, you being left out because you didn't fit into their stupid boys club.
ever since that conversation with roach, you have become frustrated, irritable, and short with them all. you fulfilled all your required tasks but refused to engage with them any further. denying invites to the pub, ignoring gaz when he tried to speak, training alone, no longer asking soap for help.
after about a week of this, price calls you to his office.
a sick sense of unease and anxiety settles in your gut. the man is so intimidating, and this surely wasn't a positive meeting. you've never been in a position like this. all throughout school, you were a grade A student, and within your years in the military, you've always maintained basic respect and politeness. you've never been in trouble with a CO.
when you step into his office, however, all your expectations are subverted. price sits at his desk, smoking a cigar. roach leans against it next to him. the two of them are speaking lowly.
price notices you first. his eyes carry an emotion you haven't seen before. lust. he's staring at you as if you're some sort of prey. with a smirk, he blows out a large puff of smoke. it curls around him, only making him more intimidating.
โif you were feeling excluded, sweetheart, you should've made me aware.โ he leans back in his chair. suddenly, the room feels so small, your body getting hot, โid be more than happy to include you.โ
roach walks towards you, guiding you further into the office. he doesn't let you sit, however, instead standing behind you, hands groping your hips. his fingertips slip under your shirt, brushing the sensitive skin of your stomach.
he kisses your neck, โprice wants to see how pretty you are,โ his hands slide further up, taking your shirt off, โlet's give him a show, yeah?โ
cont.
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37 w Eddie ๐ซก
roommate!eddie munson x fem!reader + we always snuggle, and this shouldnโt be any different, but iโm trying not to press my lips to yours because theyโre right there and i donโt want to pass up another chance, but you take initiative and do it yourself. oh.
warnings: fluff, a little suggestiveness, kissing. eddie being a soft boy.
There is no excuse, at this point.
The only excuse he could give himself, at first, was that he's a tactile person. His uncle used to tell him he had eyes in his hands, always picking things up in order to look at them. His hands are always fidgeting, reaching, touching.
Eddieโs friends are all used to it. He hugs, holds, and squeezes. Hands on their backs and arms, guiding, reassuring. Excitedly pulling and slapping when he's telling a story, or laughing.
This only grew tenfold when it came to you.
At first, he kept a safe distance. You weren't his friend, after all. Just Nancyโs friend from college, someone who needed a place to stay after your last roommate bailed on you. Coincidentally, Gareth had left their apartment to move in with his girlfriend not too long before.
Fate, it seemed โ or just two broke young adults trying to make ends meet, which was, in a way, fateful too.
His caution was thrown out the window when he realized you were just like him in that aspect. It all started with small, delicate touches.
A hand on his back while you were sharing the kitchen space in the morning, too tired to get off each other's way. Messing his hair to tease him, kissing his cheek as a greeting anytime you got home. You'd put your feet on his lap during your self-appointed movie nights, and his hands would carefully land on your calves, rubbing your legs under his rough palms, and you wouldn't pull away.
The blue light of the television, the only source of light in the room, had him feeling light. Your soft skin on his hands, and the warmth under it, the fuzzy feeling of the hair there. He let them wander, squeezing your knee, massaging your feet, always keeping an eye for your reactions. It seemed as if you preened under his touch, leaning into it. As if, if he'd pull away, you'd ask for more.
After that, he grew bolder. Hungrier. It didn't help that you were always within his reach.
An arm around your waist while you bumped into each other in the hallway. Hovering over your back when you both had to use the bathroom in the morning, letting his chest graze your back. Pulling you closer on the couch, his arm over your shoulders, your head on his chest. Hands eagerly looking for your warmth, for your skin.
Hugs from behind in the kitchen, climbing into each other's beds at night. A habit that started because you simply didn't want to stop your late night conversations, so you'd drag yourselves from the dining table with mismatching chairs, or from the couch, and into each other's rooms.
Talking about the latest book you finished reading, the last band he got obsessed with, your hopes, your fears, whatever silly conspiracy theory he read about and couldn't stop thinking of. Sharing the same blanket, hands touching, legs too.
It doesn't take long until you're in each other's arms more often than not. There is no excuse. Eddie is a tactile person, and he longs for your touch. He'll seek it until you turn him away, but that doesn't seem like it's something you'd want either.
Tonight, your faces are almost touching. You're sharing the same pillow, the one that smells just like your hair. Vanilla and coconut, sweet like you. He chases the shadows on your face, dancing with the lamp light that comes from the opened window. You're speaking, but he's not entirely listening โ until you stop.
โWhat is it?โ He whispers. The silence feels sacred.
โNothing.โ
It's not nothing, not when you lean in, neither when your lips touch his. Softly, and slowly, testing the waters. You catch his upper lip between yours, and kiss it. It makes his stomach flutter, like the wings of a moth, searching for the light. It's over too soon, and he almost whimpers with the loss.
He's learning forward, trying to catch your lips again. You giggle, putting a finger to his aching lips.
โI'm sorry. Is that okay?โ You're whispering too. Neither of you know why.
โDepends. Is it okay if I tell you that I've wanted to do this since the first time I saw you?โ Eddie is honest. There's no excuse not to be.
You kiss him again, firmer this time. Your mouth lingers on his, and it tastes like sunlight. โMe too.โ
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