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that-sudsy · 2 days ago

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Task Force 141 and their preferences in hugs, cuddles and who initiates first

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon is initially reserved and may come off as tough on the outside, but he has a soft spot for you. He enjoys being the big spoon, wrapping his arms around you protectively, especially when he hasn’t seen you in a while. He often waits for you to make the first move, but once you do, he pulls you in close and holds you tightly, finding comfort in your presence. Sometimes, you might even find yourself trying to shimmy your way out of his embrace, but he only tightens his grip, unwilling to let go.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Gaz is warm and affectionate, loving to cuddle face-to-face. He often whispers sweet nothings into your ear, resting his forehead against yours while sharing soft smiles and laughter. He’s likely to initiate cuddling, playfully pulling you into his embrace whenever he can, ensuring you’re comfortable. He enjoys the intimacy and connection, often hugging you while cooking or washing the dishes. Sometimes, he’ll settle you on the counter, engaging you in conversation as he works.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Soap is energetic and playful, making cuddling feel like a fun experience. He enjoys being the little spoon at times, curling up against you and teasing you with lighthearted banter. He usually takes the lead, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in for a cozy cuddle, often joking that he needs to recharge his “batteries” with your warmth. Occasionally, he’ll pry your arm open to lie his head on your chest, encouraging you to stroke his hair gently.

John Price

Price is a classic gentleman who prefers to cuddle while sitting or lying side by side, often with an arm draped around your shoulders. He enjoys deep conversations during these moments. While he may wait for you to initiate cuddling, once you do, he responds with a warm smile, pulling you in close and planting soft kisses on your shoulders, making you feel safe and cherished. He also enjoys spinning you around for a little dance before drawing you into his arms.

Alejandro Vargas

Alejandro is passionate and protective, often feeling a bit paranoid about you being out of his sight. He loves to cuddle with you nestled against his chest, knowing you’re safe in his arms where he can wrap you securely. He often takes the initiative, pulling you into his embrace and ensuring you feel loved and protected. He enjoys whispering his favorite Spanish songs to you, inviting you to sing the second verse along with him.

Rudolfo Parra

Rudy is affectionate and playful, enjoying cuddling while watching movies or just relaxing together. He often rests his chin on your head or shoulder, creating a cozy atmosphere. He usually initiates cuddling, playfully inviting you to snuggle up next to him. He loves to make you laugh while you’re close, fostering a lighthearted vibe. He playfully insists that you stay with him, not wanting you to leave until you beg him to let you go.

Phillip Graves

Phillip is a bit more reserved but has a soft side that shines through during cuddling. He enjoys sitting together with his arm around you, providing a sense of security. He likes to do this in public, especially around your friends and family. While he may wait for you to make the first move, once you do, he responds with a gentle smile, pulling you in closer and appreciating the quiet moments together. However, when he can’t wait for you to cuddle him, especially when he’s craving your closeness, he’ll pull you into his arms immediately, joking that you’re avoiding him and that he’s melting without you.

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#cod #johnny soap mactavish #john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon riley #simon ghost riley #alejandro vargas cod #rodolfo parra #phillip graves #cuddles

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randomasfuk · 9 hours ago

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One of those days

Jason x gn!reader

This is my first x reader that isn’t hasn’t been explicitly mentioned as female so I hope it’s ok.

It was just one of those days.

One of those days when you feel like curling up into a tiny ball and vanishing into the abyss, never to return. One of those days where everything—every little thing—stresses you out beyond reason. One of those days where no matter what you do, it feels wrong, like you’re somehow failing at simply existing.

One of those days where you feel utterly insignificant, worthless—like a burden in your own life. It’s not just a passing thought but a weight pressing down on your chest, making it hard to breathe, hard to think. Every action feels futile, every word out of your mouth seems misplaced, like you’re speaking into a void that doesn’t care to listen. The world moves around you, people go about their lives, and yet you feel like a ghost—unseen, unheard, unnecessary.

One those day ware you felt like could disappear, and would anyone even notice? Would anything change? The thought claws at you, relentless, whispering that you are replaceable, that your presence holds no real meaning. It’s the kind of feeling that sinks deep into your bones, numbing you, making even the simplest tasks feel overwhelming. Like trying to move through water with weights strapped to your ankles, like no matter how much effort you put in, you’ll never be enough.

Work had been brutal. By the end of it, you were drained, mentally and physically. All you wanted was to go home, crawl into bed, and snuggle into the familiar warmth of your boyfriend. Thankfully, he wasn’t on patrol tonight. Unluckily for you, though, he seemed indifferent to your touch. He didn’t push you away, but he didn’t lean into it either. It was as if he were merely tolerating it, indulging you rather than reciprocating. That wasn’t a great feeling. Physical affection was your main love language—cuddles, hand-holding, casual touches—all those small gestures were how you showed love, how you felt connected.

It was 23:30 by the time you finally stepped through the door, completely spent from working overtime. And there he was, lying in bed—right where you wanted him to be. You moved through your nightly routine as fast as you could, stripping out of your work clothes, slipping into your pajamas, washing your face, brushing your teeth—all of it just a means to an end. And then, at last, you crawled into bed beside him, wrapping your arms around his torso, burying your face into his chest as if trying to disappear into him.

“Hey, darlin’,” he murmured, voice low and rough with sleep.

“Hey,” you whispered back, the word muffled against his broad chest. You sighed deeply, exhaling all the weight of the day into him.

“How was work?”

“Shit,” you muttered, repositioning slightly so you could talk better and see his face.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“No,” you admitted, glancing up at him.

As you snuggled into him—your desperation to see him had faded now that he was right here, next to you, yet he felt distant even as you clung to him. Normally, you wouldn’t mind. Jason wasn’t the kind of guy to keep things bottled up; if something was bothering him, he’d say it. So it wasn’t that he was mad at you, or upset. No, this was just… how he was. But maybe that was the problem. Maybe you didn’t love him in the way he needed to be loved. Touch clearly wasn’t his thing.

Maybe he responded better to gift-giving, but you were terrible at that. You never knew what to get—nothing ever felt quite right, never personal enough, never thoughtful enough. And even if you did have ideas, your current financial situation didn’t exactly allow for grand gestures. You had moved in together partly out of necessity—it made more sense to split costs than struggle alone—but that only added to the pressure.

Acts of service? Maybe. But your initiative was terrible. It wasn’t that you didn’t care—you cared too much. You wanted to do things for Jason, to make his life easier, but you weren’t good at picking up on unspoken needs. If someone asked you for something, you had no problem doing it. But the little things, the moments where love was supposed to be effortless, intuitive? Those always seemed to slip through your fingers. Most subtle hints flew right over your head, and Jason wasn’t the type ask for what he needed anyway. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? Love isn’t about waiting to be told; it’s about noticing, about anticipating. And you weren’t good at that. You never had been.

Maybe words of affirmation would work, but even that wasn’t much easier. You struggled with putting feelings into words, always had. It wasn’t that you didn’t feel things deeply—you did, more than you could even handle sometimes. But when it came to expressing those feelings, your tongue twisted, your mind blanked, and whatever you managed to say always felt inadequate. You weren’t good at compliments—giving or receiving them. Every time you tried, it came out awkward, forced, rehearsed to the point of losing all meaning.

You had tried before, in a past relationship, and it never seemed to be enough. Either you missed something, or it wasn’t quite right, or it just ended up annoying them. That was the last thing you wanted to do to Jason. But what if you were already annoying him? What if, despite his patience, you were too much and yet not enough all at once?

That’s why you relied on touch. It was the only way you knew how to show him what you felt—the only way you could speak when words failed you. A hand on his arm, fingers curling around his own, resting your head against his shoulder, pressing your body close in the quiet of the night. That was how you said I love you. That was how you reassured him that you were there, that you weren’t going anywhere. But what if that wasn’t enough? What if, despite all your desperate attempts to show him love, he still felt unloved?

The thought twisted in your gut. Maybe you weren’t enough. Maybe you weren’t capable of loving him the right way. Maybe you weren’t compatible and it was driving you crazy because you loved Jason and you didn’t know how to show it in a way that would please him.

But then again… maybe you were just overthinking it.

Jason wasn’t cold, not really. He had his own way of showing affection. He would squeeze your hand for a split second when you reached for his. When you leaned into him, his arm would find its way around your shoulders, not quite pulling you in but resting there nonetheless. He never traced patterns on your skin or played with your hair, but his touch would linger longer than necessary. And his jacket? He’d drape it over your shoulders without you ever having to say you were cold, his hands pressing lightly on your arms before pulling away.

You knew Jason. You knew the subtle, non-verbal cues he used to express himself. But even knowing that, the fear of annoying him burned in your mind. Your chest felt tight, and you bit your lip as you turned over, facing away from him. You didn’t want to cry. You didn’t want to be clingy. But the tears welled up anyway, slipping silently down your face.

Unbeknownst to you, Jason noticed.

He noticed the way your body had tensed against his, how your grip had been just a little too tight, how the way you looked at him tonight was different. And he noticed the exact moment your arms loosened, when you lifted your head away, leaving an unpleasant chill in their absence. He noticed everything. He wasn’t sure if he should press the issue. You had said you didn’t want to talk. But then—

A sniffle. Quiet, barely audible the average person wouldn’t have noticed.

But Jason wasn’t the average person. He caught it immediately.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” His voice was softer now, careful.

“Nothing. Just a bad day at work,” you murmured, swallowing the lump in your throat. Attempting to sound normal.

But he knew better. He knew you.

“You sure?” A pause. “You always wanna cuddle me when work’s been shitty.”

Your breath hitched slightly. You hated this. Hated how transparent you were to him. Hated that you had let it get to this point. Hated this feeling and You didn’t want to annoy him further by inconveniencing him with your stupidity.

“Yeah, m’good. I just… I know you’re not a fan of cuddling, and I don’t wanna annoy ya.” You tried to sound casual, but the words cracked at the edges, betraying you.

Jason froze. Not a fan of cuddling?

He loved it.

He loved when you played with his hair, when you held his hand, when you wrapped yourself around him like he was your anchor. He loved when you came home after a long day and buried yourself in him. He loved feeling needed, loved feeling like he could give you comfort. But upon reflection he had never said that out loud, had he? He had never really shown it.

Because love scared him.

For so long, Jason had pushed love away, convinced that it wasn’t something he deserved. The scars from betrayal and loss had built walls around his heart, walls so high that he couldn’t see over them, even when you came into his life. He didn’t believe he deserved you—he was too broken, too damaged. But with you, something changed. Something he couldn’t control. He fell for you faster than he expected, faster than he was comfortable with. It blindsided him, and for the first time in a long while, he didn’t know how to push you away the way he had with others.

Before he knew it he has agreed to move in with you due to financial issues he didn’t even have. It wasn’t something he’d consciously thought through, but there was a pull, an undeniable need to stay close to you. He hadn’t expected to get so attached, but here he was, afraid of getting too close while desperately wanting to hold on. The truth was, he wasn’t sure how to balance it. He had never been taught how to give and receive affection in a healthy way.

He didn’t mean to keep his distance, didn’t mean to be less affectionate than you needed him to be. It wasn’t like he didn’t care. He cared deeply, maybe too much, but he had built up so many defenses over the years that he didn’t even realize he was putting up barriers with you. He wasn’t intentionally distant, but every time you reached out for him, every time you wanted something more from him, he would retreat just enough—without realizing it—because that’s what he had always done to protect himself. That’s how he survived. It was like a reflex, like something ingrained in him over time. It wasn’t a conscious decision, but he kept pulling back, thinking he was giving you space.

Jason’s mind had convinced him that if he showed too much, if he let you in too much, you’d leave. So, in his attempts to keep things balanced, he found himself unintentionally shutting you out in small, quiet ways. Maybe he didn’t kiss you enough, or maybe he didn’t offer the comfort you were craving. Maybe he didn’t hold you the way you needed when you were upset. But the thing was, he didn’t notice. Not at first. He thought he was doing fine—he thought he was being considerate, not overwhelming you, not smothering you. But now, he began to realise that something wasn’t right. He had been so wrapped up in his fear of losing you that he had been unintentionally pushing you away, thinking he was protecting you, thinking he was doing the right thing by keeping a little distance

“Look at me,” he said softly.

You hesitated.

“Baby, please.” His hand grazed your hip.

Reluctantly, you turned, and when he saw your tear-streaked face, his expression softened immediately. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you in, holding you tight. It was like a wave crashing over him seeing the look in your eyes.

“I’m so sorry, darlin’,” he whispered, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other firm around your waist. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

You clung to him, breathing him in, letting yourself relax into the warmth you had craved.

“You, your love, your touch—none of it could ever annoy me,” he murmured. “I love it. I love you.”

The weight in your chest eased slightly.

“Why didn’t you ever…” You couldn’t think of the right word—reciprocate? He did, occasionally. When you lay on him on the couch, he would sometimes wrap his arm around you, pulling you closer. And when you held hands, you always initiated, but he never let go, no matter where you were or what you were doing.

You sniffed slightly. “Why didn’t you ever seem to care?”

You still weren’t thrilled with the way you had worded it, but it was out there now. He squeezed you tightly for a moment, holding you close, periodically mumbling apologies and soft “I love you’s” into your hair. He pressed a gentle kiss to your head as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

Jason didn’t answer when you asked why he had seemed so indifferent before, but you didn’t press him. For now, you just let yourself drown in his warmth, in the safety of his arms.

Sleep came easily after that, allowing yourself to bask in his warm embrace.

You awoke still in his arms, his deep, steady breathing telling you he was still asleep. You peeked up at his sleeping frame, remaining in his grasp for a moment before returning to your original position, his heartbeat a steady, soothing rhythm against you.

He stirred about fifteen minutes later.

“Mornin’, love,” he mumbled, his voice raspy and thick with sleep.

“Morning,” you responded, looking up at him, slightly nervous about the possibility of a serious conversation.

“Breakfast?” you asked, offering a small smile.

He nodded, though his eyes seemed to mirror your nervousness tenfold, like he had something difficult to say. The tension in the air made your stomach churn, but you pushed yourself up, feeling the cold nip at your skin. Despite your nerves, you knew better than to pry—he would tell you when he was ready.

You had just got up and turned heading for the kitchen when he grabbed your wrist.

“I was scared… am scared, a bit,” he admitted.

“What?” You turned back to him, not quite sure what he meant.

“Last night, you asked why I didn’t seem to care. I do care—a hell of a lot. And that scares me a bit,” he clarified.

You hadn’t expected such vulnerability from him. He had never been like this before—typically, he seemed indifferent, even cold at times. But you knew better. Still, seeing the raw emotion painted across his face sent shivers down your spine.

You sat back down on the bed, facing him as he avoided your gaze.

“Do you mind if I ask why?” you questioned. You weren’t quite sure what to say or do in a moment like this. This was only your second proper relationship, so you weren’t sure how to respond, how to reassure him, or even what he needed to be reassured of.

“I—” He paused, searching for the right words. You knew how difficult that could be, especially in moments like this, so you waited patiently.

“Caring about people hasn’t exactly worked out well for me in the past,” he admitted. “I’m just kind of worried about shit hitting the fan… again. So I guess I kept a distance between us. And to be honest… I didn’t even realize I was doing it until last night.”

You weren’t sure what to say, but you spoke anyway.

“Jason, I’m here now. With you. And I’m not going anywhere. Whatever happens—whatever shit the world throws at us—we’re in it together. I love you and I don’t plan on leaving, I’m not an easy person to scare off anyway.”

And it was true. You knew who he was—Red Hood. You knew what he had done. And if your boyfriend being a murderous vigilante known for his violence didn’t scare you off, what would?

He finally met your eyes, a weak smile tugging at his lips. You leaned forward, intending to press a kiss to his forehead, but to your surprise, he pulled you down into a tight hug instead. Without hesitation, you hugged him back, letting him hold you in silence.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that—until his stomach grumbled, breaking the moment.

“So… what was that about breakfast?” he asked.

You chuckled, finally pulling away and getting up to make what would now be brunch for both of you.

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