#do u still love me even though i make terrible jokes

[thetorturedlovergirl]

haven’t seen doctor who since last year HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

ⓘ This user was shot for making a terrible joke.

[2amriize]

Riize finding out about your crush on them through another member 😝😝

oh this was so fun to write! tysm for the request, hope u like it ^^

˚⟡˖ when they found out your crush on them through another member — RIIZE

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist

note i made it a little bit longer than usual, so hope yall like it ♥

genre fluff, crack ?

pairing riize x reader

ᯓ★ SHOTARO

You knew Shotaro because you had mutual friends and would often see each other at birthdays or parties they organized. You hadn’t spoken to him much, but seeing how sweet and cheerful he was with everyone made you develop a little crush on him.

Even though he’d been your crush for over a year, you still hadn’t confessed, and you didn’t intend to. You knew how difficult and awkward relationships between friends within the same group could be. Besides, you didn’t really think Shotaro reciprocated your feelings. He treated you well, but that’s how he treated everyone, really.

Out of your group of friends, the only one you’d talked to about this was Sungchan, as he was your closest friend, but he was also very close to Shotaro. In reality, you hadn’t meant to tell him; it just slipped out right before going to a birthday party. Oh, you were screwed.

You really valued Sungchan, but you knew very well that he was terrible at keeping secrets. ‘I swear I’ll try not to spill it in front of him… or anyone else.’ His words didn’t sound convincing, but you had no choice but to trust him.

But, well... the secret didn’t last even two hours with Sungchan. He and Shotaro were alone in the kitchen making some drinks when Sungchan let it slip.

‘What? What do you mean y/n told you she likes me?’

‘Uh… did I say that?’ Even Sungchan was surprised at how little time he managed to keep the secret.

Shotaro stood there for a few seconds, trying to process the information, then laughed and hugged Sungchan excitedly.

‘Wow… I didn’t think she was interested in me at all’

ᯓ★ EUNSEOK

“He is so fine,” you murmured as you stared directly at a spot in the cafeteria where Eunseok was sitting.

“Huh? Who are you talking about?” asked Shotaro, who was eating with you. “Eunseok again?”

“Yeah...” you whispered, looking at the guy sitting at a table away from the crowd with his friends.

Who didn’t have a crush on Eunseok? Basically, everyone in your class was in love with him, and you were no exception. Shotaro was tired of hearing you talk about how handsome and tall Eunseok was, and he always ended up asking you, “Why don’t you ask for his number?” You simply didn’t have the confidence, and you didn’t want to bother him either. Every week, someone approached him to ask for his number, and apparently, most of the time, he didn’t give it out. So, why even try?

After eating, you were in the hallway with Shotaro, chatting before heading to class when Eunseok walked by.

“Oh, there’s the handsome guy you like,” Shotaro said way too loudly, and you looked at him in shock, hoping Eunseok hadn’t heard. But he did.

He turned to you and looked directly at you. “Huh? Are you talking about me?”

“No... it was… we were talking about...” His gaze on you made you nervous.

“So, can I ask the pretty girl I like for her number?”

ᯓ★ SUNGCHAN

You and Sungchan were inseparable. Wherever he went, you went. If he was invited to a party, you were invited too. You got along too well. And to be honest, you also had a massive crush on him. The problem? Everyone knew. Except for him.

When it came to these things, Sungchan wasn’t very witty, or maybe he just didn’t want to notice. You also preferred that he didn’t realize because you liked the friendship you had.

Still, every time you went to a party, everyone joked about how obvious it was that you liked Sungchan. “Are you ever going to make a move? Why don’t you ask him out?” were things that were never missing from a conversation between you and Sohee.

And that day at Sungchan’s house party was no different. Sohee kept telling you that you had to confess that night or at least try to kiss him. But you refused; you simply couldn’t do it.

At one point during the night, someone bumped into you, spilling your drink on your shirt. When Sungchan noticed, he offered to give you one of his shirts to change into, so you both went to his room together.

While he was rummaging through his drawers, you could hear Seunghan and Sohee’s voices in the hallway.

“Do you know where Sungchan is?”

“Hmm, I saw him go off with y/n a while ago.”

“Oh… finally, y/n is going to confess.”

The conversation could be heard clearly from Sungchan’s room, and when you heard it, you both looked at each other in silence, both surprised and not knowing what to say. You could feel your cheeks getting warmer by the second.

“Were you... going to confess?” Sungchan asked, still looking at you before crossing his arms. “Isn’t that something I’m supposed to do?”

ᯓ★ WONBIN

Spin the bottle. You hated that game. Why was there a game where you had to kiss people you didn’t like? Or worse, where you had to watch the guy you liked kiss other people?

But there you were, sitting in the circle, praying that the bottle would stop on Wonbin and you.

You had liked Wonbin since you first saw him at Eunseok’s house, but you had never spoken to him. Eunseok knew about your crush on Wonbin, which is why he suggested playing spin the bottle while giving you a mischievous look. What was he planning? Then, before the game started, he said, “Okay, let’s change the rules a bit. Whoever the bottle points to can choose who to kiss.” He said this while looking at you with a smile. Oh god...

A few rounds passed until the thing you feared the most happened—the bottle pointed at Wonbin. What if he didn’t choose you? What if you had to watch him choose someone else and kiss them?

“Oh, umm… I don’t know who to choose, honestly,” he said with a slightly awkward smile.

“I know someone who would love for you to choose them,” said Eunseok, and you quickly looked at him.

Wonbin, confused, also looked at Eunseok. “Huh? What are you talking about?”

“I think y/n has been waiting for a kiss from you for a while.”

Oh god. How embarrassing. You could feel everyone staring at you. How could he say that in front of everyone? Oh, but what you didn’t expect was to hear Wonbin’s response: “Oh, if it’s y/n, I would love to.”

ᯓ★ SEUNGHAN the office reference!

You’d been working as a receptionist in an office for a few years and had become close friends with one of your coworkers, Seunghan.

Seunghan worked as a salesman, and his desk was just a few meters from yours, so you were constantly exchanging looks and joking around all day.

Many times, he would take the opportunity to come over to your desk when he finished his work and always asked if you wanted to have lunch with him.

But that was it. You only interacted with him inside the office; you had never hung out outside of work. Neither of you had ever suggested it.

Besides, you didn’t want your relationship to become awkward if you suggested going out after work. What if he thought you were asking him out on a date? Well, that’s what you would be doing, but that wasn’t something that crossed your mind.

Today, when he came over to ask if you were having lunch together, you had to turn him down, “A friend is coming, and I was going to have lunch with him.” His face completely changed, “Oh, no worries,” he said before going back to his desk.

When your friend Anton arrived, you got up to greet him, noticing Seunghan’s gaze on you both.

“So... which one is the Seunghan you talk so much about?”

“Anton… what are you saying?” you said, giving him a small tap on the arm. Clearly, Seunghan had heard you because he couldn’t help but smile after hearing that.

ᯓ★ SOHEE

You couldn’t stop talking about Sohee to Wonbin. Sohee was a barista at a café you always went to near your dance academy. Every time you hung out, you would talk about how cute you thought he was, and it was something that was starting to annoy Wonbin.

“Why don’t you tell him? If you don’t, I will,” he would always say to you, and you would laugh, thinking it was a joke.

Oh well, it wasn’t.

You were having a drink after spending the whole afternoon practicing, and it happened that Sohee was working. You couldn’t stop looking at him; everything he did seemed so adorable to you. How could he be so cute?

Wonbin couldn’t stand seeing you staring at Sohee all the time, so he took the opportunity to approach the guy when you went to the bathroom.

“Hey, this might sound weird, but do you have a girlfriend by any chance?”

“Huh?” Sohee responded, looking at him confused.

“Oh, it’s not for me. You know the girl who’s with me? Well, she has a bit of a crush on you.”

“Really? I thought you two were dating.”

“Iugh, no… but then, could you give me your number? I mean, for her?”

Sohee chuckled a little and wrote his number on a napkin without hesitation.

When you came back from the bathroom, you saw the napkin, so you looked at Wonbin, confused. “What’s this...?”

“Thank me later.”

ᯓ★ ANTON

You were in the living room of one of your friends’ houses when Seunghan suggested playing charades but with a twist.

“Let’s play by also putting some of our names in.”

It seemed like a fun way to play, so everyone agreed. You couldn’t help but smile when you saw that Anton had gotten your name.

Anton had been catching your attention for the past few weeks, so you could say you had developed a bit of a crush on him. You just loved the way he talked to you; you could have conversations with him for hours and hours. But nothing more had happened, just conversations. The only person you had told about your crush on Anton was your best friend, Seunghan, though the rest of your friends had also noticed how nervous you got around him.

After several rounds, Anton couldn’t figure out who he was.

“Hmm… Am I someone here, right? Do I like anyone here?” he asked, and you looked at Seunghan, surprised by that question.

“Oh, sure you do,” he said, letting out a small laugh.

How could he ask that? He started asking in every round if he liked X person, until he ran out of options.

“Who’s left? Oh wait… I like myself? I mean, I like Anton?”

“That’s it” said Seunghan, while looking at you.

Anton noticed that Seunghan was looking at you, but it took him a few seconds to realize what that meant.

“So... I’m y/n? I didn’t expect that...” he said, laughing, while you were embarrassed.

[nvuy]

I saw the Boothill text messages leaks and he physically can not cry. How does this info make u feel 🎤

GIVE ME THAT 🎤

“Theoretical question…” Boothill gratefully takes the glass of wine you hand to him before you sidle up next to him in the grass. “…But say the sun was g’nna blow up tomorrow, and you were the only one that knew about it. What would you do?”

He pulls off his hat and rests it by his feet. He feels you staring at him. Your gaze is warm, yet something about it bothers him. Like you’re trying to read him.

He presses his lips together in a thin line.

“That’s definitely a question,” you murmur beneath your breath. “Why?”

He says nothing for a moment.

The warm breeze is gentle.

He’s still staring at the sunset when he replies, “dunno. ‘M curious.” His words are accompanied by a casual shrug.

He hears you shift, maybe slightly uncomfortable. The wine in your glass sloshes.

He takes a sip from his own glass. It’s not his favourite, but you can’t really afford anything to his tastes. But, for what it’s worth, the wine is nice, and good enough to take his mind off how his metal fingers still seem to tremble when he mentions the end of the world.

Sweet and benign on his tongue, just like you. He hums and studies the drink through the glass. Maybe cheap booze ain’t too shabby.

“I guess I’d spend it with my family,” you say. You, too, shrug.

“Would you tell ‘em?” He turns his head to look at you. “That the world’s endin’?”

He watches as you inhale.

Then, you say, “no.” There’s a light shake of your head to accompany your words. “I don’t want to scare them.”

That’s what he did, too. Many, many years ago.

He remembers seeing red smeared all over her little face. How it slowly turned a deep purple as she held her breath. How it then faded completely with its colour, and he lost sight of her gorgeous pinkish cheeks when she took her final breaths.

“What would ya say to them in the last minute?”

He can’t remember her voice anymore.

That lump in his throat swells, and it feels like a cold marble. He’s so tired of trying to swallow it.

“I think I’d be too busy crying like a baby, but…” It was a lighthearted joke as you nudge him in the side. He only lets out a humourless puff of air through his nose. “I’d tell them I love them. That they’re the best people I’ve ever known.”

Something heavy weighs in his chest like hot iron, burning and bubbling at the base of his throat. “Yeah. I get it.”

You touch his cheek gently. “You okay?”

He’s not. “‘M fine.”

“Would you stay with me?” you ask him. “Theoretically. If the world ended tomorrow?”

That cracks a smile on his face, though it’s light. “Sure I would. Theoretically.” The sun always felt nice on his face.

Your skin was even nicer against his. You rest against his shoulder, and he leans his head to press his ear to the side of your face.

“If my metal body’s good for anythin’, I’d try to shield you from the blast.”

You snort. “I appreciate it, though I don’t think even a cyborg can withstand the sun exploding.” You reach up and pet his hair. The white strands pool along your fingertips like running water.

He leans into your touch. “Still. I gots ta try.”

You sigh and flick his forehead lightly. “All theoretical, Boothill.”

The cowboy hums, and you feel it ripple across your skin like waves. “Course.”

“Hopefully the world doesn't end tomorrow,” you add. “You still haven’t taught me how to play the guitar.”

Boothill turns his head so his nose presses to the side of your face. Although his skin is cold, you feel warm and fuzzy. “Even if the world ends, I’d be happy right here.” He reaches down and pats your lap firmly.

He feels your face heat up and you groan. “You’re terrible.”

His cold lips press to your temple and he snickers. “You like it.”

[obsessedwrhys]

okokokok HEAR ME OUT !… rottmnt brothers x a gn! younger adopted sibling medusa hcs… whose snakes are lowkey protective of them… sometimes they act on their own but if the reader is feeling an emotion strongly they’ll feel that emotion… yeah… (can you also make the reader calm, collected and reserved?)

(Idk if ur reqs are closed or not so u can do this later or delete it if you want)

ROTTMNT X MEDUSA!READER

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ fluff, bit of angst, reader is gn!! (Look at how cute they are)

RAPH

As babies he was always so scared of the snakes on your head. Like what do you mean it's supposed to be your hair? How does that even work?

Every now and then when he's passing by your room, he couldn't help but sneak a glance of you pampering to the snakes. It's just so amusing to see you treat them as if they have a mind of their own.

Which they do in some cases.

Growing up together, he has gotten use to the fact that the snakes happen to also feel whatever emotions you feel. Anger. Despair. Joy.

Never in his life would he ever think to see a hundred snakes smiling at him. But oh well, at least you're happy.

He is honestly very astonished with your ability to turn any living or non-living things to stone.

There was this one time where you guys were fighting and a member of the foot clan managed to sneak up behind you, but due to your enhanced reflexes, you were fast enough to turn him into stone. You simply blew at the sculpture and eventually it loses its balance and falls.

Remind him to never mess with you 'cause being turned into stone does not look fun.

Despite your scary appearance, you were the most chill person in the group. You would always be found either in the living room watching tv or in your room doing your thing.

What I'm trying to say is that you're the least expected sibling to create the huge mess of the day for everyone to deal with.

He doesn't find the snakes on your head too much of a deal, he cares and loves you all the more.

LEO

He finds the snakes on your head so cool!!

Since ya'll were kids, he's been constantly storming up with stupid tricks or ideas to do with you.

And you obliged each time because you didn't feel like it was anything dangerous. Most of the time you guys end up having fun.

He has once asked you to turn Donnie to stone. Obviously you said no.

Even though your ability to turn people to stone is irreversible, it still doesn't give you the excuse to just do it to anyone or anything as you liked. Which is the same thing you've said to Leo multiple times and he always let's out an annoyed groan at your reminder.

He 100% picks fight with the snakes on your head. Always sneakily poking one or pulling one (obvs not that hard) when it's not looking, what he doesn't realise is that you can feel it too. He's been bit many times for doing that but he never learns.

He just enjoys messing with you :(

It's the sibling energy in him.

Did I forget to mention how he managed to convince you to turn him to stone in order to escape Raph's lecture? Yeah that happened.

I've said this before and I'll say this again, he definitely makes terrible dad jokes related to snakes towards you. It always entertains him and him only.

"You know, people always say snakes are so venomous but I think they're just slitherin around"

"That was terrible Leo"

He likes to hug you because he just loves the feeling of the snakes on your head rubbing against his face. It's like the same feeling you feel when a cat rubs it's face against your face. So relaxing.

He loves to especially bury his face into them.

It weirds out the others but you don't mind as long as he doesn't hurt you or the snakes.

He just LOVE LOVE LOVESSSSS it.

Also the way your eyes glows red alongside the snakes whenever you turn something to stone? You look ethereal!!

And the tiny traces of scales across your skin??? Badass!!

He'll literally wear a cheerleader fit and swing around pong pongs to cheer you on.

DONNIE

Since you were kids, he was always drawn towards the snakes on your head. He always wondered how did it even get there.

He once accidentally pulled on one of the snakes as a kid and the bite on his hand is now scarred to life.

He doesn't tell you but he thinks the snakes looks great on you, the green matching the green in your eyes is like the cherry on top. Not to mention your fashion sense is amazing!!

He doesn't mind having you stay in his lab, you're not loud and don't disturb his work which he appreciates it.

I like to think that whenever he's bored, he'll probably approach you to examine on the snakes on your head. You don't really mind and just continue on doing whatever it is that you were doing in the first place.

Though, there was this one time you caught him waving at the snakes and smiled when they all greet him back.

He definitely asks questions about stuff.

Some of the questions that still stuck to you was "If you used a mirror and activated your power, will you be able to turn yourself to stone?" And "Do the snakes on your head grow like hair?"

The last one might be true in a way. The snakes only extends when you want it to. You just do it when it's convenient, whether to toss a bad guy away or to grab a cup of coffee on the table.

He would hyperfixate on Greek Mythology when he sees the obvious similarity. However it just made his brain spin even more. Were you also cursed? He never knew how to ask you about that since he's afraid to trigger your emotions.

The last time he did that the snakes on your head all began hissing at him, not to mention seconds away from attacking him.

But it doesn't matter, you'll tell everyone when you want to. All he knows is that you grew up together and care about each other, that's already enough.

MIKEY

Oooh snakes.

I just have a feeling that since babies, the snakes on your head has always been so affectionate towards Mikey.

Like out of all the brothers, he's the only one they let him do things with. Helping you do different hairstyles, feeding them and even giving them accessories. Anything he can do to make you look glamorous.

He also happen to name each of the snakes. He says he doesn't have a favourite but it's way too obvious that you're his favourite.

He hates it however when you're sad, the way the snakes on your head pretty much drops with a frown breaks his heart.

Everytime Leo decides to mess with you, Mikey is 100% already there and simply standing menacingly behind him, waiting for him to finally notice him.

"He's standing behind me isn't he?"

"😡"

A lot of the days where its sunny, he would definitely take you go swimming. He knows how frustrated you get when it's too hot.

Same goes to when it's winter, this boy will go out of his way to make a comfortable beanie for you to use and for the snakes to nestle in.

Also you have a big appetite but do not fear!! He will prepare you the most delicious meal you'll ever eat!!

You're surprisingly good at communicating with animals. You've befriended some of the rats in the sewer and he can't help but call you the "Rat Whisperer"

He loves hanging out with you, whether if it's doing nothing together or having fun, he likes spending every second with you.

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 31 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

 Maybe it’s silly, but you feel as though you have a new lease on life, in the days that follow.

John is still undeniably clingy, but so very sweet. It is a much easier form of obsession to bear.

You are still a prisoner, but at least you feel loved.

Perhaps even more precious, you begin to feel safe.

Whatever possessive madness gripped him before seems to have receded for now, and maybe you’re a fool, but you dare hope in time he might make a full recovery.

Now that you’ve reached a sort of understanding, John seems bent on making up for lost time. There is no doubt that you are still his prey, but now he ambushes you with the express intention of making you cum—whether you like it or not.

Again, you find yourself begging him for reprieve, though this time through laughter rather than tears. He swallows your protests with devouring kisses, eating your cries whole as he slides his long fingers inside you and works your clit masterfully with his thumb.

When you complain of your difficulty sitting down, a gift of a hemorrhoids donut pillow appears. You think he meant it as a joke.

John likes to give gifts, you find.

When one day you walk into your studio to find a bejeweled set of headphones bedecked like a crown, you cannot help but grin like an idiot. It is ridiculous what those fucking things cost, and you’d thought you’d been clever about concealing your enchantment with them in Italy, but nothing escapes John Wick’s sharp eye.

When he finds you later wearing your new coronet, singing out of tune while you put paint down on canvas, he presses you into the worktable with his hips and his kisses, going down on his knees before you with a murmur of, “My beautiful queen.” His words make your knees weak, as does his insatiable tongue in your slit. It’s all so much, and when you beg him to take you there on the table he is all too happy to oblige, scattering your pastels in a rainbow of projectiles with a sweep of his arm before driving himself inside you. With legs wrapped around his waist in a desperate effort to hold on, you take the fury of his adoration with a cock-drunk smile.

If you learned anything in the darker times before, it is that this man is a predator to the bone, and no matter what his mood, he loves a good chase. It becomes your favorite game, and it starts one evening when you splash him while doing the dishes. The look of surprise on his face is priceless, and with a screech you run for the stairs.

You only get so far as the living room before he catches you, his arm like a band of iron around your waist hauling you from your feet entirely. It happens too fast to register, but by some form of ninja magic you are suddenly on the floor, the lean length of his body on top of you. On the plush oriental rug with his thick cock inside you, this man makes you see God. 

It feels alarmingly, magnificently, terrifyingly, like truly making love.

“Has anyone ever loved you, the way I do?” he demands desperately, filling you impossibly to the brim.  

“Never,” you barely manage to answer, the force of his thrust stealing your breath away. 

The next question is much more vulnerable. 

“Have you ever loved anyone, the way you love me?”

“Never.”

It’s true, and in the softening of his gaze you dare to hope that someday he will believe you enough.

It is surprising, how quickly the time passes. Despite the circumstances, it is not terribly hard to live with John Wick, like this. He is sweet, and loving, and he spoils you rotten. You could almost mistake your relationship for normal—if one didn’t look too hard at the locks on all the doors. 

Soon summer is fading, giving way to the golden hours of early fall. You see it out the window, but since your little car ride, you still have not been allowed outside. You’re an outdoorsy girl, and frankly, it’s starting to drive you a little crazy. You find yourself clawing at the impenetrable windows with a sigh.

John’s mood has been steady, but your heart is still in your throat when you dare ask, “John, can we go out?”

He looks up from his book, the fall of his dark hair covering half his face as he cants his head in thought. They say familiarity breeds contempt, but even after all this close proximity, you still find him beautiful. You do not think that will ever change.

“Why?” he finally asks, and you detect the shadow of suspicion in his tone.  

“Because I miss it.”

You used to hike every day off you had. Being indoors this long…is doing things to your brain.

You watch as his nostrils flare, his chest rising and falling as he considers this request. You can tell he doesn’t like the thought at all, but you force yourself to stand your ground. He won’t punish you for this, surely? Just for asking?

Of course, he might punish you for what you’ll do later, if the answer is no.

In the end he nods, though more to himself than to you. “I’ll think about it.”

“Think about it fast? The weather will be turning soon.”

The look he pays you then is less kind, his eyes sharp as glittering obsidian. “I said. I’ll think about it.”

You sigh, assuming the answer is no, and retreat to sulk in your studio. You are painting the view from your favorite outlook on the mountain trail nearby from memory when you start to hear an odd, rhythmic toque…toque sound, over and over.

You go downstairs, searching for the source. No dice in the living room or the kitchen. You follow your ears to the bank of windows off the living room. There’s another door (locked, of course) that leads to a patio. You see John outside…chopping wood? Watching the pine rounds explode under the sharp blade of an axe in his hands shouldn’t be this fascinating, but you find yourself pressed to the window, transfixed. The definition in the muscles of his forearms as he swings down are a sight to behold.

You’re not sure he can see you, the way the glass is mirrored on the outside, but you knock on the widow anyway. He looks up at you with narrowed eyes at first. Then, a small smile. It feels like a little gift, just for you, and it quickens your heart. Watching him do everyday things moves you, and you acknowledge to yourself uneasily for the umpteenth time that you’re in so deep.

As it turns out, the wood was for a little pit fire, which you sit together and watch with a glass of wine that evening out on the patio. The tall trees loom all around you, pitch black outside the ring of your little campfire. It feels so good to be out of the house, but it’s not quite what you wanted. As though he senses that you’re not exactly satisfied with his offering, John tries to distract you with his kisses, laying you down on the outdoor couch to wreck you with his mouth. You make love with your skin bared to the great outdoors, but no one to really see you in your seclusion. Later you snuggle under a soft blanket together.

Sated, you let it go, for now.  

-But John doesn’t forget, and one morning he wakes you early with kisses on your ear. “If you want to hike, we have to go now,” he tells you. You have become spoiled in your captivity, no longer at the mercy of coffee house hours, now used to sleeping through the morning after John keeps you up late with his kisses and his beautiful cock, but the offer of getting to really go outdoors has you up and at ‘em in minutes.

You find your old pair of broken-in Merrel hikers in the walk-in closet, and realize John must have accessed your possessions from your previous life at some point. It’s so strange to see them—you realize in the suspended reality of your current situation, you’ve almost written off everything that came before.

There is a distinct mental separation in your personal timeline—BW, and AW; Before Wick, and After Wick.

You have a quick breakfast and coffee before stepping outside, the sun just peeking over the horizon.

You can hardly describe the elation you feel, at last being allowed to walk out that front door like you are almost normal. You are so happy just to feel the morning air on your skin. You stand in the driveway like a simpleton, your face lifted to the sky, soaking in the sun. There is a cool breeze that smells of pine, and it is the sweetest thing you have inhaled in a long time.

John watches your reaction intensely, and you do not think you invent it, when you see a glimmer of guilt in his expressive mocha eyes. Intent on assuring him, you stand on tiptoe, pressing a kiss to his bearded chin with your front flush to his.

“Thank you,” you say, and he relaxes slightly against you, resting his forehead against yours.

You are practically skipping as you hit the trail in his woods that connects to the bigger loop. You cannot help but think about that day in the snow, when you met him, alone, on that very path. How easily he could have had you then. It is another clue that tells you he hadn’t decided yet—or he had not yet cracked.

This early, in the middle of the week, it isn’t likely you’ll meet anyone in the woods. You feel a trill of nervousness, as you wonder what would happen if you did. You have been kept to yourself for so long, the thought of contact with other people out in the world feels strange, a little frightening, even.

As you walk an exuberance overtakes you, fills you head to toe. It almost feels like you’re…free. The only contradiction to that is the tall man in black walking by your side. He has let you have free reign, not insisting on holding on to you. He doesn’t have to, you know. He could just run you down with those delectably long legs of his any time he wanted, surely.

That doesn’t mean the thought of it isn’t titillating, even if you absolutely know you would be destined to lose. Perhaps he truly has broken you at last, but you have come to love the game of chase too. It is your most exciting distraction in your world that is limited to the confines of the Wick cabin.

You are going to be sore the next day, you know. It’s been…forever, since you’ve been able to walk like this. The most exercise you’ve really gotten has been engaging in your sexcapades with John—as much of a workout as that is—it’s a different group of muscles.

Perhaps he does not insist on holding you, but it doesn’t stop you from reaching for him. You squeeze John’s hand in thank you.

Despite everything…it feels like a perfect day.

“Maybe this is far enough for today,” he says as you approach the junction with the main trail, the line of his private property and the park that adjoins it.

Disappointment spears through you. You are not ready to go back into your prison. It’s turning into a beautiful day, and you have so much energy to burn.

You make a pouty face, playing cute while you are flirting with rebellion inside.

“But the overlook is so pretty this time of year,” you insist, batting your lashes. Lately, that’s been enough to get your way on little things in the house. Today you feel like you can’t lose. Everything is too good.

He narrows his eyes down at you, as though he senses your internal mutiny, but in all your elation you feel strangely impervious. You realize you feel high, the kind of mood lift usually people have to ingest pills to get.  

“Y/n…” He reaches for you, and without thinking you step just out of reach. You’ve played this game a dozen times now in the house. A game you’ve never, to this day, won, but you’ve found it’s the thrill of a lifetime, to be chased down by this man, trusting he won’t really hurt you. It always leads to mind-blowing sex, and maybe you are thinking a bit too much with a lust-addled brain alongside your elation for the great outdoors.

There is a very pregnant moment between you, and you smile when his intense eyes meet yours, your lips curling in what you know is a shit-eating little grin. What happens next is pure reflex; an extension of a thing you’ve done repeatedly together, with a dash of that age-old ingrained instinct of prey in the presence of a predator. But now you’re outside, and your jubilation is magnified times a hundred.

You run.

“Y/n!”

He lunges for you, his fingertips just brushing your arm, but in the end he’s–amazingly–too slow.

You are a human missile, rocketing down the hill, fueled by gravity and the knowledge of how to move in this environment you’ve trained for since you were just a child. You may as well be a wood sprite, for this is your element. This is your mountain, and no matter how many wealthy interlopers buy it up and carve it into parcels and drive up the price of everything so that locals like you can barely live—this will always be your home.

It feels so good to run.

Your feet fly over the needle-strewn forest floor, jumping over rocks and dodging trees. You laugh like a madwoman, the sweet sweet mountain air filling your lungs. You run like a wild thing of the woods, the way you used to when you were a child, before your parents decided to break the oath they'd made to each other and split your happy world to pieces. While your parents fought you would flee to the trees to be free, and you feel that desperate euphoria again. That feeling like you can fly, jumping over rocks and launching from boulders.

You sense more than hear John behind you, your own ears filled with the rushing of your blood and your racing heartbeat. His fingertips brush your back before you juke him around a tree. You hear him curse and you laugh—you do sound mad.

“Have to do better than that, old man!” you crow. 

You realize with another rush that you are far more agile than John is. The trees are your friend, the way you dart around them and power yourself down a new line of retreat. You hear him curse after grazing one, and you realize you might break the poor man’s neck, making him pursue you like this. 

In a pine-needle carpeted clearing you make yourself slow down, and you are so high on adrenaline it doesn’t even hurt when he finally tackles you to the ground, your grin like a baring of teeth, giddy from the chase. He pins your hands above your head, sharp pebbles digging into your skin as you laugh.

“What the fuck���” You interrupt him mid tirade with your mouth on his, a hungry kiss that swallows his fury, but does not quench it. Already anticipating the passion of your (and his) reward with his delicious weight pressed down into you, your legs are wrapped around his waist, pulling him close.

“You think you’re cute?” he snarls above you when at last you separate.

“I am very cute,” you assert, still giggling to yourself. “Don’t be mad. You love this game.”,

“Maybe I’d love to spank that cute ass of yours raw?”

“Nuh-uh. No hitting.”

You’d made a deal, after all.

He narrows his eyes down at you, and this is when you finally start to sense that maybe he is not half as amused as you are. Your blood runs cold, and before you can blink he has you flipped over on your belly, your pants down around your thighs.

“No—”

You try to squirm away, but his inexorable hand is in your hair—it makes for a damn good handle, the bastard. His big hand digging into the globe of your ass makes you quiver under his fingers. 

Your heart plummets into freefall, as you realize he’s serious. And you can tell he’s not talking about the playful little smacks he sometimes gifts you in the middle of riding his cock to completion. He means to punish you, and the knowledge takes you from the highest high to the blackest despair. You can barely hear past the sound of your heartbeat in your ears, the familiar fear and uncertainty from before creeping in. Not again. Life was so good. Please don’t go back to this shit again. You can’t go back to the way things were. You can’t live like that again. 

A revelation settles over you with irrefutable clarity. You accept it as truth with every cell of your being, and you know there will be no going back after this. 

“If you hit me we’re done.”

There’s no hint of playfulness in your tone either now. Just…resolve. You mean what you say, to the very marrow of your bones.

“I think I must have confused you, y/n. You are not in charge here.”

“Maybe not. But I’ll tell you this. If you hit me, I’ll fight you to my dying breath. I mean it.”

Like watching yourself from the outside, you almost find it interesting that this is the true limit of your generosity with him. This is the cliff’s edge. The point of no return. Your resolve is unmoving, even if it fills you with absolute misery. You could lose him now, today, this very minute. This man who keeps you prisoner, yet with whom you have lived happily the past months. This complicated, broken man, who you love with all your heart. 

In this insane moment you realize with soul-shaking clarity…you don’t want to leave him. What would you do with your life? Go back to your stupid little existence at the coffee shop, working your fingers to the bone, doodling on the chalkboard, waiting? You’ve spent most of your life just fucking waiting. Waiting to travel. Waiting for something good to happen. Waiting…for this man to come through the door, so you could pester him for five minutes, knowing it would be the highlight of your day.

Could you possibly go back to looking up at the mountain, knowing your Beast in his castle resides there? That a man who loved you like no other is there pining for you?

But if he crosses this line—you will have to leave, somehow. Or die trying. That is your heartfelt resolution. That is the promise you make to yourself. You’ve made too many compromises as of late, and this is a battle for your very soul. 

You feel him like a malevolent storm cloud behind you, trembling in his fury, but for once, torn as to what to do. You realize this is the only time you’ve seen him doubt himself, when he’s contemplating teaching you a lesson. 

You dare to try to talk him down, your voice calmer, or perhaps more distant. You don’t know how you muster the courage; perhaps only in the knowledge that this could truly be it for the two of you. No more we’ll see how it goes or maybe it will be better tomorrow. There is only now.

“This thing we’ve somehow built together, despite everything…” You shake your head, trembling as much out of fear as despair. “It will be destroyed, and you’re the one who will have broken it.”

“You’re the one who ran from me!”

You can tell from the hushed fury in his voice that he is hanging on by a thread. You realize now, what a stupid thing that had been to do. That despite the games you’ve been playing in the house, out here, he just couldn’t handle it. Even just the slightest possibility of you leaving is enough to drive this man off the edge.  

“I let you catch me.” You will him to believe you. You even half believe it yourself.

“The hell you did.”

“It’s true. I know these woods better than you. I’m smaller. I’m faster. I let you.”

“Bullshit.”

Before you can hardly think about what to do you lower your face to the dirt, offering your ass in the air. You know he can see your puffy slit, your glistening opening just begging for him. This is how he has warped you; or maybe you were a twisted little thing all along, just waiting for him to show you the way to your ruin. Either way—you want him, and you will him to see it for himself.

“I let you catch me,” you insist again. “So give me my reward.”

You feel the tremor run through him, from his fingertips to his core.

You realize that he wants to believe you. That maybe punishing you was never really the fun for him at all, in this deadly game you’ve been playing.

You feel him shift his position behind you, his merciless hold moving to your hip. When his long fingers slide into your wet folds you mewl like a cat; half relieved, and half just needing him. He makes you buck by circling your bud, before delving inside your weeping channel with two of his fingers. It makes you moan, and if someone walks up the trail my god will they get an eyeful, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Does that feel like someone who’s afraid of you?” you bluff. Because wanting this man has never really stopped you from fearing him. Fearing what, exactly, has shifted over time. In the end though, maybe just that he would be the absolute ruin of you.

He only grunts in answer, spreading your juices around your aching pussy. When his fingers withdraw you whine in protest, but you hear him rifle with his clothing, the zzzip of his fly jerked downwards. When his thick tip kisses your entrance you could weep, offering your ass even higher in the air.

“You are a very bad girl,” he tells you as he slides home, making you writhe with a mixture of pleasure and pain. 

“I’m your bad girl,” you correct him, and he growls behind you, thrusting again. He’s not treating you with the usual care he pays this position, but you take it anyway. Gladly, if this will mend the thing between you, you’ll take it all.

“I would have found you, you know,” he pants as he thrusts, his hand weaving in your hair. “Even if you made it down the mountain…there’s nowhere in the world you can hide from me.”

You absolutely believe him.

“I know,” you tell him, your face in the dirt, yet somehow still loving the feeling of him behind you, filling you absolutely and completely. “You don’t–have to–lock me up, John,” you pant, interrupted by the violence of his thrusts. “Because I know I can’t escape you.”

This makes him growl again, that primal, possessive sound that touches the darkest recesses of your cavewoman brain. It is as though there is no part of you, inside or out, that this man cannot touch. He drapes his long body over yours, engulfing you in the shelter of his warmth. Even now, you cannot stop yourself from leaning back into him, pressing your smooth cheek to his soft beard. His tone is pure gravel, but you know him well enough now to sense the vulnerability in his words too. “But do you want to escape now?” he asks.

“No,” you tell him, and you know in your heart this isn’t manipulation, or vying for a better chance to run somewhere down the line. It’s just the truth, and you even surprise yourself as you say, “No, I don’t want to leave you.”  

He goes still behind you as he evaluates this heartfelt confession, his harsh breathing and the pulsing of his cock buried inside you his only movement. 

“I want to believe you.” You only enjoy a moment of relief, before he rears again behind you, driving himself into you to the hilt. “But I can’t.”

Your heart plummets as you realize he still cannot bring himself to trust your word, to have the faith to walk out into thin air, the way normal people do when they dare to fall in love. He cannot leave anything to chance with you, and now you are not sure he ever will.  

He really might keep you locked up forever. 

You feel the earth beneath you, hyper aware of the pine needles in your clenched hands, the wonderful smell of the dirt and ancient rocks below. The cool breeze on your bared skin, and the dappled light filtering through the pines. What if this really is the last time you are ever allowed outside? 

There was always a glimmer of hope on the distant horizon for you, that little light of optimism that never quite managed to extinguish, despite everything he put you through. But now you feel it leave you, stealing the integrity from your very bones. You go limp beneath him, only his iron-grip on your hips holding your ass in the air as he uses you. When he reaches down to find your slippery bud you are no longer in the mood, and perhaps foolishly, you try to shake him off. 

“Just get it over with.” 

You already know it’s the absolute worst thing you can say, but now you don’t care. 

“But I thought my darling wanted to enjoy the great outdoors?” He doesn’t sound half as angry as you expected him to, but there is still something sharp in his tone that puts you on edge. Like glimpsing a dorsal fin parting still waters, you know something dangerous swims underneath. 

He slows his thrusts behind you, so that his magnificent length stretches you just right without hurting you. He uses his now expert knowledge against you, weaponizing the hours you’ve spent in bed together making up for lost time. You can’t stop yourself from arching into him, canting your hips to intensify the sensation, and now you bow your head so you don’t have to see his smug smile. “Goddamn you.”

He huffs with laughter, though there’s no real humor in it. “You’re too late, I’m sure.”

This time when he touches you, you are desperate for it, your aching walls squeezing him in search of release. It tears a groan from deep in his throat, a sound you know so well by now, and you realize you can use your own knowledge of this man against him too. You squeeze him again, almost in challenge, and it becomes a contest between you, who can bring the other to pieces first. You have to admit that his blunt fingers on your clit are heaven, and your heart pounds too fast in your chest, your head light as you very nearly forget to breathe in your concentration. He tries to hold himself off as you move to take him deeper. He cannot control your body as well as he would like, like this, with his fingers buried in your slit, and you almost smile at his grunt of frustration at you. 

In the end you both lose. 

You cum so hard on his cock you see stars, a ringing in your ears as a merciless pleasure breaks and explodes through you. He fares no better, filling you with ropes of hot seed as he moans, loud enough to echo across the mountains. 

Maybe you do feel a little better, panting in the soft leaf litter with his body draped over yours again, his heavy breathing and soft lips upon your neck. As usual, you feel bereft when he withdraws, wishing you could hold him inside you longer. You didn’t bring anything to clean up with, and you anticipate a soggy walk home back up the hill. 

In fact, after sprinting, then fucking like animals on the ground, you’re not even sure you can walk. 

It’s John who rises first, groaning with the effort. He glares down at you, as though daring you to make another old man jab. For the moment, however, you are out of quips, out of jokes, and out of clever repartee. Even though you know it shouldn’t be so easy for him to tame you, you snuggle under his chin anyway, kissing the swell of his Adam’s apple. For a moment he sags against you, savoring this sweetness, before brusquely leading you back up the trail.  

He is not cruel, or strangely, even outwardly angry now, but somehow you just know you are in so much fucking trouble.

[anaconamor]

can u write three months after break up w Jude u see him at a party....

idk make it wtv u want but can it have angst in it plz?

thank u bb 🖤🖤

“why didn’t you tell me he was here?” you stop in place, gently gripping your friends arm to pull her to the side. she looked almost to scared to speak, her lips moving but nothing coming out. “i haven’t seen this man since new years… and i see him here?” you say to her seeing her wince.

“if i told you, you’d never come, and i hate seeing you stuck at home all day! plus we both need this night out and i know you’re not about to go home to sulk because you’re letting him get to you again…” she recalls making you sigh disappointed while closing your eyes.

“out of all places and days why tonight?” you ask sincerely, your friend shrugging and fixing her purse that slowly draped off her. “please just ignore it and do it for her? she was so excited to finally see you come out and left with us. we can leave after they cut the cake, okay?” she tells you, the hesitation still in your face and body language.

you have to bite your tongue as you approached the table, your hand stroking your upper arm in a comforting manner as you stood there after greeting everyone but him. you refused to talk to him, mostly out of respect, but you knew you couldn’t do it. the pain and sadness waving and coming at you all at once.

you never met his eyes. or when he stood up when he saw you. in pure shock when he saw you. surprisingly he was alone, just his friends around him which caused a small bubble of happiness of not being faced with a girl next to him. you made an escape to the bar, ordering a drink before going to the restroom and touch up.

you felt like you could do it, but all that confidence slowly fell into the drain when you saw him again. you hated yourself for still feeling love for the person who left you when you most needed them. the person who you looked up and valued, the person who made you feel the luckiest girl until he didn’t. anger. rage fueled in you as you thought your choices.

you pushed back tears, avoiding now the huge pit in your stomach and pain in your chest, that seemed to travel even to your rib cage. you sealed a huge lump and smiled in the mirror, letting out a deep breath before walking out to the blaring music. you could see jude by the bar looking around, making you cover your face and return to where your friends were.

you sat down quickly diving into the conversation about a concert you all wanted to attend and a new clothing line that slowly become popular over the days. jude returned back with a silk look, a small frown on his face as he saw you. you looked away quickly, sniffling a laugh at a joke your friend told you.

even though you were sat almost next to each other, the space and distance was present. the space of unspoken feelings and words, space filled with heartaches and a messy ending to a beautiful love story that once took place.

if there was something you could do was ignore. ignore someone, something, an issue, a place, you name it. so you did what you did best and ignored jude. his big brown eyes that stared at you the whole night. no matter where you went or were he continued to stare making your heart race.

jude was desperate. he tried to get your attention but he got the message of you ignoring him after he tried calling out for you but you walked away. he tried to pull you away when you had walked to the bar alone, but failed at that too. had to hold himself back from dragging you out the dance floor due to his jealousy and pain in his heart.

jude stood by a wall, looking at you walk to the booth and sit down, leaning back in your chair as you crossed your legs. jude tried to pay attention but all he could do was stare at the only girl he loved and admired. her shoulders low, her searching eyes, upside down smile. he missed you terribly and his only thoughts were you.

he walked over to you, giving his drink to his friends. he fixed his shirt, running his hand on his chin as her approached you. when you looked up and saw him you froze standing up and trying to walk away but he stopped you. his hands finding their way around your waist and pulled you back. “let me go,” you spoke faintly, jude having to hold back a chuckle as he felt you relax in his hold.

“can we talk?”

“no. so if you’d excuse me-”

“too bad. we’re talking, like it or not,” he grabbed your wrist gently, feeling as you fought back as he dragged you away into a private hallway that smelled like pure cleaning chemicals. you leaned against the wall, avoiding his gaze looking down, with arms crossed and pouty lips. still his stubborn y/n. the one he was still deeply madly in love with.

“how have you been?”

“i don’t have time for this. just say what you have to say…” you said harshly, not caring how it came out or if it hurt him. he hurt you so you felt the want for him to feel how he was making you feel. “y/n, please. i want to be civil and just talk. it’s all i’m asking…”

“are you hearing yourself? you wanna talk? talk about what exactly? how my life is going? what i’ve been up to? where i got my nails or hair done? talking is out of the picture for the both of us, jude. so say what you have to say to save time,” jude winced at your words, the pain returning back as he saw how deeply he hurt you that december night.

“y/n-”

“please jude… don’t make it harder for us than it already is. it hurts me just standing here and looking at you… i can’t do it. i can’t pretend like everything is okay and dropped what happened for a single conversation,” you plead with sadness, finally looking up into his eyes where you once found comfort and love.

“then let’s make it okay. let’s fix and talk it out, like normal people do.”

“like normal people? you’re my ex boyfriend jude, simple as that. and fix it for who? you or me? it’s not fair, i can’t just forget what happened to fix things for us,” you sigh upset clutching you bag as you stood up straighter. jude felt at lost for words because you were right. more than right.

“i miss you…”

you let out a small chuckle, looking back down and shaking your head. “missed me? or missed the person who was just a waste of time in the end?” you feel your legs weaken, tears threatening to rush down your cheeks. “what do you want for me jude? i cant do this again-”

“i miss you. i love you more than ever….” he pauses seeing how your face looks back up at him with widen eyes. “i hate myself for holding onto hope even though i was the one to hurt you… us. i hate how distant and stranger like we are now. how i can’t hold or give you my undeniable love and care. how i have to watch from afar knowing things could be different…”

“jude…”

“please y/n… i’m begging you. if tonight is all we have i just want to spend it with you. prove to you and apologize, earn your forgiveness. all i ask is for us to talk, please. if you’d till feel the same than i’ll accept it, as much as it will hurt more than now,” he walked over to you holding your sides before cleaning your tears away. you hated the effect he had on your still, closing your eyes and thinking about it and then speaking again.

“just tonight…”

[dangerliesbeforeyou]

ok so ive been rewatching psychoville and saw on the wikipedia that there were a bunch of websites made for the series (they were all written by reece and steve btw) which i've been looking through cos they are genuinely SO fucking funny & also just amazingly creative lol!

anyway i know people in the fandom probs already know about this (since the show came out literally 15 years ago pfft) but i thought i'd share some of my fav bits (but honestly would just recommend just checking them out if you haven't i have been crying with laughter for literally hours lol)

i will say that a lot of the media (videos, games, etc) no longer work on the archived sites rip but i'm sure people have uploaded some of the stuff (vids especially) to yt or other places lol

so a) i love that we get some background stuff on jelly and 2) 'captain CRACKERS' bernie clifton's dressing room reference question mark ??????? (ofc bcdr was AFTER this but i know love the idea that mr jelly trained under len pfft)

what that red raw stump do though 👀 (sorry pfffft)

mr jolly's website wasn't that interesting soz tho i did like him comparing being a doctor to being a clown lol

the comment about fag bears did make me wheeze i'm afraid lol i also loved the blurry photos of lomax's commodities lol (kinda reminded me of the bit in tlog w/ that terrible old photographer guy lol)

when i tell you i DIED with laughter at the 'now known as hull' bit like u just know reece wrote that bit pfft

not really a funny thing but this poem written by david honestly kinda breaks my heart lol... i think it also a lot of additional context to david's guilt when he thought he'd killed his father(faver) because perhaps he felt guilty about NOT feeling guilty you get me? like, it felt to me that when maureen told david it was SHE who killed her husband, it didn't feel like he was mad at her for doing it, but more that she kept the fact from him. it's about... the mutual oedipus-coded obsession with one another that couldn't even be destroyed in death and in this essay i will....

ghoul_lass23 is just like me but about tumblr lol fr

nothing feels more cursed than the phrases 'the river minge has burst its banks', 'crying creamy tears' and 'fleshy rapunzel' (which i've just noticed they misspelt lol... don't think that was intentional lol?) so if i had to read this so do you <3

the way that i kinda wish this actually existed tho pfft... also, it does kinda remind me of that video where jenny nicholson talked about that insane reality show 'opposite worlds' lol

'cross between seven and glee' is honestly sending me pfft

also on this part there was a script from stinkfinger (which is a show mentioned on the show) which sounded suspiciously like a reference to tlc lol

the less said about swastknickers the better

(will say i did nearly piss myself laughing at the nazi section of the hoity toity website lol which wasn't a sentence i thought i'd type today lol)

i just love these kinds of jokes pfft

also the whole biography sections of each of the pantomime cast are fab lol tho i AM kinda pissed they made debbie from yeovil and yet didn't give her a west country accent lol!!! (i guess they thought it'd be a bit much w/ joy being bristolian but i'm still mad about it lol)

also i know people have probably already pointed this out but i do find it funny that brian in the in9 episode last night of the proms is a closeted gay guy who likes watching drag was probably a reference to brian in this show that was a drag queen like... is anything these guys do NOT a reference??? u know those gaylor fans who obsessively look for clues in her songs about her apparent secret sexuality? all i'm saying is that i think they'd really like the extended reece shearsmith & steve pemberton universe pfft

all three of these made me cry with laughter lol

ohh this is interesting lol so obviously they suspected that some people might be all 'um why didn't the sprinklers go off during the fire at ravenhill? plot hole much!' so they wrote this into one of the websites so they could be like SEE! WE'RE ONE STEP AHEAD OF YOU DUMBASSES lol

both the jeremy kyle reference (remember when that was a thing? yikes... my mum used to watch his show CONSTANTLY...) and nurse kenshington's thoughts on david and maureen are interesting lol.. also there's a reference to the serial killer top trumps in this bit lol! (do people still play top trumps?? man i LOVED top trumps lol...)

the entire sunnyvale care home section is so fucking funny (both the website AND in the show lol mrs wren/mrs ladybird face is unironically probably my favourite character on the entire show) these were just some of my fav gags lol...

ok but why is this the SECOND reference to a guy punching a child who was apparently looking at his dick lol!??!! did this happen to one of you ??!!?!? reece did you punch a child ??!???!?!??

&&&& that's it lol

there were a few websites i didn't spend long on or generally weren't that interesting (coughmidgetgemscough) but honestly? i was really captivated with just how funny and well put together all these sites were! you can tell they had a lot of fun making it and i'm sure fans at the time LOVED being able to have this semi-interactive element of the show lol

there was just something so wonderfully late 00's about these websites lol i genuinely don't think i've laughed this much at anything in literal months and all of this is just solidifies that psychoville is a criminally under-appreciated masterpiece lol

[python333]

task force 141 reacting to [reader] telling them corny jokes during a mission — python333

— — — —

synopsis just as the title says, tf141 reacts to you telling them some corny dad jokes during a mission!

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader.

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign], bad jokes.

note ME AND MY 23 FOLLOWERS ARE STRAIGHT CHILLING RN. i love all of u. anyway gaz is in this one!! yippee!! i thought about ghost and his jokes in that one part of one of the cod games idk ive never played them i watch other people play it but you guys know what im talking about. i also just figured out that i should probably specify gender neutral reader for my fics?? so i'll start doing that! ANYWAY enjoy!! this is all fluff and has some classic tired parent & hyper toddler energy in the first part :}

JOHN “BRAVO SIX” PRICE

➥ insert exasperated sigh here.

➥ he will let you keep telling him jokes, however he will only respond to them with a simple, tired, “Uh huh. Good one. Very funny. Nice one.”

➥ tired dad energy.

➥ the first one you told was okay. he laughed at that one. the tenth one? please, god, just stop talking and put him out of his misery.

➥ he wonders how you know so many jokes, and then wonders if you got them all from ghost.

➥ if you did get them from ghost, trust that he will be telling the man himself all about how you constantly told him bad jokes over comms.

➥ if you just happen to know all of these, he won’t be surprised.

➥ he’ll put up with all of the jokes, for your sake, of course.

➥ the first time this happens, you’re both on a pretty insignificant mission compared to other ones you’ve done.

➥ you’re both talking over comms, just making sure you’re both okay.

➥ that’s when you started your attack.

—

“Captain?” You’d asked, listening as Price hummed in acknowledgment of you talking, “Wanna hear a joke?”

You could practically hear his hesitation, before he responded with a tentative, almost scared, “... Sure, [c/n].”

A delighted grin split across your face as you asked him, “How does dry skin affect you at work?”

He thought for a moment before asking, “How?”

“You don’t have any elbow grease to put into it.” You heard Price give a small chuckle, and decided to ask, “Wanna hear another one?”

Price’s second mistake of the evening, “Sure.”

“Where do boats go when they’re sick?” You asked, still keeping a lookout on your surroundings on your end while focusing on telling your Captain shitty jokes.

“Where?” Price asked.

“To the boat doc.” It took Price a moment, before he huffed out a small laugh and muttered just loud enough for you to hear, “Jesus, that’s terrible.”

Without warning, you tell him another one. He asks why, when, how, or what, whichever was appropriate for the joke you told, and slowly but surely his questioning tone became tired and exasperated. You don’t know why, but somehow his miserable tone made you even more motivated to tell him corny jokes.

“Do you just… memorize all of these?” Price asked in the middle of you telling a new joke, sounding almost astonished.

“Yes I do. Just for these missions, I do,” You answered confidently, smiling when Price sighed. You continued on with your joke, and even though Price didn’t respond verbally, you still told the punch line. You had repeated this for at least ten minutes, all of those minutes appallingly slow to Price, the poor man having to endure your bullshit for such a short yet such a long time. At the tenth minute, the only thing that stopped you from continuing was Gaz’s voice coming on over comms and interrupting you, telling everyone else on the mission that they could head back to the rendezvous point. Price, relieved at the interruption, gave a thankful sigh and you could hear him getting up from his spot before he muted himself.

You sighed as well, yours a direct opposite of Prices, full of disappointment, but you let it go. Besides, you’ll always have more opportunities to terrorize Price with your jokes on the ride back to base!

—

JOHN “SOAP” MACTAVISH

➥ he has the same reaction he had with ghost telling him corny jokes.

➥ he’ll call your jokes terrible, but will still laugh at them somehow.

➥ will 100% put up with your jokes, will laugh every time, even if his laughter slowly becomes more and more strained, he’ll laugh.

➥ tells you some jokes back, but after your 4th joke, he gives up and accepts his fate.

➥ he will suffer for your entertainment, guaranteed.

➥ he will be sure to remind you of how terrible your jokes are though!!

➥ he’s honestly impressed by how many jokes you’ve memorized.

➥ he’ll happily support you doing this to other people, no matter how much it damages his soul when you do it to him.

➥ the first time you do it to him, he starts getting deja vu from when ghost did it to him.

➥ “Oh, God, no’ ye too,” he’d groan playfully the moment you start telling him jokes, getting flashbacks.

➥ enjoys your jokes, even if he would do anything for you to shut up, he still enjoys them.

—

You and Soap were camping out in the same spot—atop a roof of a tall building that was just tall enough to give you a view of practically every other building in the area as well as the ground. It was cold up there, the air so cold that every time you’d exhaled, your breath turned to white condensation before fading into the clear sky.

It was fair to say that you and Soap were fairly bothered by the cold, so you really had no other option, you just had to start telling your jokes. How else could you warm the both of you up? Sure, it wouldn’t do anything physically, but mentally? It was sure to practically melt Soap’s brain.

“Soap?” Soap hummed and looked over at you, “Wanna hear a joke?”

Soap smiled, and decided to humor you, “Sure. Joke ‘way.”

“Why couldn’t the bike stand up by itself?” You asked, turning fully towards Soap. He didn’t bother to think before asking, “Why?”

“Because it was two-tired.” It took him a moment, but eventually he huffed out a small laugh and nodded.

“No’ bad,” He’d hummed, “Want me to say one?”

“Go ahead.”

“How did vikings communicate with one another?” Soap asked, turning fully towards you in turn.

“How?”

“By Norse code,” Soap had said with a grin on his face, clearly proud of the joke. You laughed quietly at it.

Without asking, you tell another joke. “Why did the bed wear a disguise?”

“Why?”

“It was undercover.”

Soap chuckled and turned back down to the ground, assuming you were done. But, oh boy, did he assume wrong. You told another one. He asked for the punchline. You delivered. You told another. He asked again. You delivered, again. Can you recall just how many jokes you told that fateful night? No. Does that make the memory any less funny to look back on? No.

Soap’s expression slowly turned to one of misery, his laughter becoming strained and slowly coming to a stop, the light in his eyes fading away as God himself seemed to appear behind you and reassure him that it would all be over soon. God, how he wished that were true.

Soon enough, you were both told over comms that you were able to safely make it back to the rendezvous point, and Soap couldn’t be happier.

He let you tell him more jokes during the walk over there, of course, and made sure to tell you how awful they were, but still endured them for your sake.

—

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

➥ it’s like he’s been preparing for this moment his whole life.

➥ he’ll put up with your jokes and will tell you a joke back every single time.

➥ at some point you guys will probably use a joke on each other that the other one told you.

➥ he actively enjoys the joke-telling.

➥ he probably tells the first joke and that’s what triggers you to tell him your own.

➥ he’s annoyed soap, gaz, price, and a few others with his jokes, yet you’re the first one to go back and forth with him.

➥ every time you tell him one he’ll make a mental note of it and remember it for annoying people on future missions.

➥ probably thinks some of the jokes are genuinely funny but still knows that it annoys people.

➥ if you tell him a corny joke related to ghosts, he’ll probably laugh more.

➥ i am aware that that is pretty corny in itself but look at the title man what did you expect.

➥ he’ll probably tell some jokes about your [c/n] to you back.

➥ he’ll know when you’re reusing a joke and calls you out on it.

➥ “Does this require more creativity than you expected, [c/n]?”

➥ [in a perfect imitation of matpat’s voice] i find his jokes delightful! [in regular voice, now whispering as if scared i’m going to get caught by ghost saying this] i’m lying. he’s my fictional father figure so i am very much obligated to enjoy his jokes.

—

”[c/n], how copy?” You heard Ghost’s voice crackle through over comms, and pushed the PTT button on your small ear piece to respond.

“Copy, doing just fine,” You responded, “Little bored, if I’m gonna be honest.”

“Oh really?” Ghost breathed out, sounding amused. You could hear some gunfire on his end, and the wind his his earpiece making the annoying whoosh noise you hated. Just a few moments later, Ghost spoke up again, “Y’wanna hear a joke to ease your boredom?”

“Sure,” You’d hummed, looking around to make sure you were still safe to just stay where you were and chat for a moment.

“What do you call a boomerang that doesn’t come back?” Ghost asked, his voice dry and sarcastic. You thought for a moment before shrugging—even though he couldn’t see you—and asking, “What?”

“A stick.” Ghost delivered. The stupid joke made you huff out a small laugh and mutter under your breath something about how good it was, and even though you couldn’t see him, you could practically hear Ghost’s self-satisfied smile.

“Another?” Ghost offered.

“How about I tell one?”

“Alright. Go ‘head.”

“How do ghosts stay in shape?” You asked, listening to Ghost’s amused huff on the other end of the line, like he knew where you were going with the joke but decided not to say the punch line for you.

“How?”

“They exorcize,” You responded, grinning, proud of yourself for thinking of that one.

“That’s not bad,” Ghost hummed, “Not bad at all.”

Ghost stayed quiet for another moment before asking, “Where do fish keep their money?”

“Where?”

“In a river bank,” Ghost said, his smile almost audible in his words.

“Nice one, L.t,” You breathed out, laughing quietly.

“We could do this all night,” Ghost mused, oddly happy at the sound of your quiet laughter, a little rustling audible on his end.

“Is that a challenge?” You asked in response to his musings, to which Ghost responds with a simple, affirmative hum. You think for a moment, before asking, “Why can’t a leopard hide?”

“Why?”

“Because he’s always spotted.”

Ghost hummed, mentally writing that one down before asking, “Why did the scarecrow get an award?”

“Why?”

“Because he was outstanding in his field,” Ghost delivered. With each joke you cringed more, and yet you kept responding with the same bullshit. The two of you went back and forth with the shitty jokes, eliciting responses from each other like, “That’s a good one,” or, “God, that’s awful.” It really had no in between, it was one or the other.

Eventually, and just in time because you were beginning to run out of jokes, Price’s voice crackled through over comms, letting you both know that everything was now under control and gave you both the coordinates for the rendezvous point. Before you get up from your spot, you can hear Ghost asking Price, “Wanna hear a joke?”, and Price’s quick response of, “I’m good”, the quick interaction making you laugh quietly.

“He doesn’t know what he’s missing out on,” You muttered, voice full of amusement.

“Damn right he doesn’t,” Ghost huffed out, chuckling quietly when Price groaned and muted himself.

—

KYLE “GAZ” GARRICK

➥ he just gives up and accepts his fate.

➥ i’m actually in full belief that he’ll just let you tell jokes and won’t even respond.

➥ if y’all are in the same spot, he’ll just stare at you in astonished silence, wondering how you know all of this and also wondering if he’ll make it out of this alive.

➥ i think he’s lovely, i also think that he would just let you do whatever.

➥ it’s like an older brother participating in his younger sibling’s tea party with their stuffed animals and bright pink plastic tea cups and fake tea.

➥ he considers taking out his earpiece but then realizes that that’s a bad idea so he just suffers through it.

➥ surprisingly, it’s easy to focus on his tasks even with your voice in the background.

➥ he’s only heard of ghost’s shitty jokes, and thinks that this might be worse, somehow.

➥ i mean, it’s not like he can’t ignore it, but he feels kind of bad that he does.

➥ he hums every now and then to remind you that he’s listening but he’s too caught up in pretending to listen to actually listen.

➥ when the mission’s over and you eventually stop telling your jokes he realizes how quiet it is without your voice in the background laughing at your own jokes.

—

“Why do bees have sticky hair?” You asked, this being about your twentieth joke of that evening. Gaz hummed in response, tone questioning, and you delivered the punch line, “Because they use a honeycomb.”

Gaz didn’t pay much attention to any of your punchlines, really just letting you get all of this out of your system, figuring that if you didn’t do it now it’d happen to some poor soul later. He accepted his fate early on, the moment you told your third dad joke, he knew it wouldn’t end. Call it a sixth sense of his, knowing when you’d be persistent in your quest to annoy every member of the 141, but he just knew.

“Where do surfers learn to surf?” You asked, giggling quietly at your own joke, despite the punchline being stupid. Gaz didn’t even respond, yet you still delivered, “At boarding school.”

Gaz considers taking his earpiece out for a moment, then thinks again and decides it’s probably better not to, knowing Price’s voice could crackle through into the earpiece and let you both know to head to the rendezvous point. Sighing quietly, he continued to look around him, scanning the area as he walked around, making sure no enemies were left alive. Your voice still hummed in the background, the sound becoming more normal to him and less distracting.

“Why did the tourists feel disappointed after seeing the Liberty Bell?” No response from Gaz. “Because it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.”

“What do rabbits need after getting caught in the rain?” A small, questioning hum. “A hare dryer.”

You continued to tell your jokes, and in the middle of one, Gaz interrupted.

“Y’know,” He started, “If you didn’t already have a call sign, we’d be calling you Jester.”

“I’d love to go by Jester,” You laughed quietly, lightly, “I feel like it’d be more fitting.”

“Probably, yeah,” Gaz chuckled quietly, about to say something else before Price’s voice came through over comms and let you both know to head over to the rendezvous point. After you stop telling your jokes and mute yourself, Gaz can’t help but notice how quiet it becomes.

He got a bit too used to your voice, it seems. He muted himself and sighed, pulling up the coordinates to the rendezvous point and heading over there.

[savrenim]

whos ur mdzs blorbo (if u say anyone but jiang cheng youre wrong /JOKE)

not to be an Extremely Basic Bitch but Wei Wuxian. in my defense gotta LOVE me any character who is doing basic physics research and you cannot tell me that the development of demonic cultivation is not basic physics research in any given story I am going to be most obsessed with the character who is closest to doing theoretical physics in that setting bc most often nobody gives a fuck about the physics of their world in the main story even!! though!! it!! would!! be!! really!! cool!! magic!! physics!! that!! I!! want!! to!! know!! about!! and yes I understand the author set out to tell a story not to do fundamental physics but the physics of it will haunt me. I can and will kill on the hill that Wei Wuxian does magic physics and he does it Really Fucking Well and that is the thing I care most about in the world

but also

I am generally Bad At Cooking. I got better at cooking towards the end of grad school! but at the beginning of grad school I was actually cooking all my own food for the first time and was Bad At It and what's worse is that I was so tight on time that I'd almost always bulk cook for the whole week which meant that if I fucked up a recipe I had to eat it for lunch and dinner for like six days straight

until I discovered. the single best cooking hack. in the world.

you see, I like spicy. and I'm a vegetarian have been for forever and vegetarian bulk meals are like. "pasta and vegetables" "beans and rice and vegetables" etc etc. which and it turns out. that if you fuck up trying to make something. without altering the texture and having to redo anything bc it's totally possible to do it at the very end you can just dump an ungodly amount of red pepper flakes and/or cayenne pepper powder in and now it does not taste Bad, it simply tastes Spicy, and for me, that tastes Good

I proceeded to use this trick with everything. including when my coffee beans got really old and stale bc bought those in bulk too. simply throw red pepper flakes in to the ground beans before you drip brew it and now it's spicy coffee instead of stale coffee!

anyways I eventually became A Better Cook and Started To Make Food That Is Spicy But You Can Actually Like. Taste Other Flavors. miss Spicy Coffee tho, wish I had the time to brew my own coffee again.

fast forward to like. a month ago.

I discovered about a month ago lo and behold that I Do Slightly Better life-wise if I Actually Eat Breakfast before running out the door even though it's like 6:45am and I'm not that hungry. and I had a bunch of old fancy farmer's market granola from like two years ago that was about to expire so I started eating that with some greek yogurt. but it was a small bag and I was about to run out. so I bugged housemate-partner-who-is-a-good-cook-my-beloved of would he consider helping make me a shit-ton of homemade bulk granola, I'd grab the ingredients and we could figure it out as we went along

except the thing is he Hates cooking by Vibes instead of A Recipe it Stresses Him Out So Much bc he is not used to people with the attitude of "eh if I fuck around I find out that is the deal I make with the universe I'll still eat it" he is used to people with the attitude of "if it's fucked up I am physically incapable of eating this"

so I. jokingly. as he expressed some Worry about "do we REALLY need to cook this by Vibes? can we Please find a granola recipe??" went "hey don't worry!! if it comes out Absolutely Terrible we can just use my old trick from grad school of throwing enough cayenne pepper into it that it just takes Spicy instead of Bad!" the joke being that like. spicy granola in yogurt that is a CRIME hell spicy granola is a crime who ever heard of spicy granola

.............except I was. really curious.

so the next morning I tried sticking some red pepper flakes so the texture wouldn't be disgusting into my granola and yogurt, I am nothing if not a caricature of myself, I live by the primary tenet of "commit to the bit" there did not exist a world in which once I had set forth that bit I would not Commit to it.

and it was delicious????? like it was weird Spicy Surprise but it was delicious. No Bit I Just Legitimately Like Spicy Granola Apparently With Or Without Yogurt.

so I Decided that let's not even wait for us to Potentially Fuck Up The Granola Recipe let's just put 3/4ths of a full shaker of red pepper flakes into it for Funnsies. because that's a reasonable amount of red pepper flakes, right? there's a lot of granola I want to make sure that there's a hint of spice in every bite!

out came a gallon and a half of Crimes Granola. the red pepper flakes got into the coconut oil so every single bite of it is infused with a huge amount of spice it is FUCKING DELICIOUS and to absolutely every single person in my house who have Nowhere Near My Spice Tolerance even the one who Likes Reasonably Spicy Things it is Totally Inedible I make a three month supply of booby-trapped granola that I and I alone can eat

anyways.

like two days later I proceeded to have an existential crisis about the fact that I'd made granola that I was the only person I knew who would like it, except also, Wei Wuxian would probably like it.

so yeah he's my fave.

[goldfades]

✮ 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝟐'𝐬, jump then fall au!

au masterlist! masterlist!

♡ ─ word count | 1.9k

♡ ─ summary | a week into cece being the fantilli's official nanny, paloma is going through the terrible two tantrums and adam doesn't know how to deal with it.

♡ ─ warnings | unedited, fluff, anxiety, toddler tantrums (ofc), mentions of being tired, idk ?? nothing else!

♡ ─ taglist | @literatureluster @itsnotgray (fill in form in my navigation in you are interested!)

♡ ─ ev's notes | aaaaa this series is finally in full swing, i am so excited. ALSOOO PLEASE SEND IN ANY THOUGHTS U HAVE WITH THIS AU, i love when yall have your own little headcanons it literally makes my day. also, how would u guys like this to be formatted? like chapters or like.. something else??? idk but anyways, ily u all and enjoy this fic!!!!!

Adam rambled on nervously about Paloma's snack for about the fifth time as Cece followed him into the kitchen, nodding along to every word he was saying. She knew he was nervous to leave Paloma alone so she tried her best to seem interested even though he's repeated the same thing for what seemed like the millionth time.

As Adam rambled on, he suddenly stopped mid-sentence, an embarrassed flush creeping onto his cheeks. He realized he had been repeating himself, and Cece had been patiently listening the whole time.

"Sorry," he chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair. "I guess I'm just a bit on edge with leaving Paloma alone. I want everything to be perfect for her."

Cece shook her head in understanding, "No don't even apologize! I appreciate it, I do tend to forget about stuff. And I get it, the first time is always the hardest."

Adam sighed, feeling grateful for her understanding. "Thanks, Cece. I know I can be a bit... overprotective sometimes."

"It's a good quality, especially when it comes to being a dad," she replied warmly. "I get it, I go crazy for my little brother. I'm pretty sure I would commit a crime for him," you joked playfully.

Adam chuckled, the tension in the room easing as he appreciated Cece's sense of humor. "Yeah, me too. Paloma is my world, and I'd do anything to make sure she's safe and happy."

Cece smiled warmly, a genuine warmth in her eyes. "I can tell you're a great dad, Adam. Paloma is lucky to have you." Her smile carried her feelings and she saw herself in Adam as he talked about Paloma. She was the same with her brother and her little nephew and niece.

His expression softened, and he returned the smile. "Thanks, Cece. That means a lot."

Comfort silence filled the kitchen before Adam got a phone call and cursed under his breath, "Shit, I'm late."

Cece watched as Adam's expression shifted from one of warmth to a sudden realization that he was running late. She could sense the urgency in his voice as he cursed softly.

"I gotta get going but call me if anything happens. And if I don't answer, call Luca or mom. Oh, you don't have my mom's number, let me give it to you in case-"

Cece let out a soft laugh as she put a hand on his shoulder in comfort, "It's fine, Adam. Don't worry I'm sure I'll get a hold of you, alright? Just relax and get to your meeting in one piece."

He took a breath and then laughed along with her, even though there was still some anxiety running through his veins. He nodded, "Alright, sorry about that, you're right." This was part of the process, it would be okay.

"Don't apologize, you're okay." Cece still had an understanding expression on her face as Adam took another deep breath before walking to the door and taking his keys.

"Alright, I'll see you in a couple hours. Paloma's sleeping right now but you remember-" He saw her expression and then let out an anxious sigh before nodding. "You got it?"

"I got it, boss." You joked playfully as he smiled. "Bye,"

"Bye." He took one more look around his apartment before leaving the apartment.

As Adam left for his meeting, Cece stood in the doorway, watching him until he disappeared from view. She then turned her attention back to the apartment, a newfound sense of responsibility settling in her heart. Taking a deep breath, she walked over to check on Paloma, who was still peacefully sleeping in her room.

The apartment was quiet, save for the gentle sounds of Paloma's breathing. Cece couldn't help but smile as she looked down at the sleeping toddler.

──

A FEW WEEKS LATER

──

Adam walked into the apartment after a long and grueling practice, his body feeling the weight of exhaustion. The familiar scent of home welcomed him as he closed the door behind him. He let out a sigh of relief, glad to be back in the comfort of his own space.

He entered the living room, he noticed the soft glow of dimmed lights and the sound of gentle music playing in the background. It was a scene he had grown accustomed to since Cece had become a part of their lives.

He made his way to the kitchen, where he found Cece cleaning Paloma's dishes. She looked up and smiled warmly when she saw him. "Hey, Adam. How was practice?"

She could tell he was tired, he has been for the entirety of the week. She respected how hard he worked at practice and how he still had energy for Paloma, even after an exhausting practice.

Adam stretched his tired muscles and replied, "Long and exhausting, per usual, but it's done. How's Paloma?"

Cece's smile widened. "She's been an sweetheart. We played and watched a Barbie movie, had dinner, now she's asleep in bed."

Adam felt a sense of relief wash over him. He had been anxious about leaving Paloma in someone else's care, but seeing how well Cece was handling everything put his mind at ease. Right as he was about to respond, the familiar cry of Paloma rang through the apartment.

Cece, out of habit, immediately dropped the dishes into the sink and walked out of the kitchen before Adam spoke, "Cece, it's fine. Let me go see what's up."

"Oh, alright-"

This had been a problem for the past week, Paloma throwing tantrums right after being put to sleep. Adam had tried everything he could think of to soothe her, but nothing seemed to work.

He made his way to Paloma's bedroom and found her sitting up in her crib, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Hey, sweetheart, what's wrong?" he asked softly as he lifted her into his arms.

Paloma clung to him, her tiny hands gripping his shirt as she continued to cry.

Adam's heart broke at his daughter's cries. He held her close and whispered soothingly, "It's okay, Paloma. Daddy's here, and you're okay." His arms were sore from practice but he couldn't get himself to leave her as she continued to cry loudly.

He gently rocked her back and forth, his heart aching as he tried to comfort her. Paloma's cries gradually subsided, and she nestled against his chest, her breathing slowly evening out. He didn't want to put her back in the crib because he didn't want to her wake up again and cry, so he stayed like that for a few seconds even if he was exhausted.

Cece walked in quietly and Adam put his finger on his finger to singal to be quiet. Paloma made a soft noise and Adam let out a sigh of exhaustion but to his surprise, she didn't start crying again as she saw Cece.

Instead, she sat up in Adam's arms and reached out to Cece, making a soft, wanting sound. Cece couldn't help but let out a laugh, her heart warmed by the sight of Paloma's tiny outstretched arms.

Adam slowly gave Paloma to Cece and she immediately held onto her, putting her head on her shoulder and her eyes immediately shut.

Adam watched with a mixture of relief and admiration as Paloma snuggled into Cece's arms, her cries now fully replaced by contentment. He had been worried about leaving her alone with the Cece, but this moment reassured him that he had made the right choice.

Cece held Paloma gently, her heart melting at the trust Paloma was placing in her. She swayed softly, creating a soothing rhythm that seemed to lull Paloma back into a peaceful slumber.

Adam couldn't help but smile at the sight. His daughter was finally finding comfort and security in the presence of another person. He made a gesture to the door to silently say he was going to leave and Cece gave him a sweet smile and a thumbs up with her free hand. As he left the room, his heart swelled at the new memory. He felt himself get used to Cece and Paloma together, it was a new welcome sight.

After he took a shower, he walked into the kitchen and he heard Paloma's bedroom door open quietly and then he turned to see Cece. She caught his gaze and smiled before walking up to him.

Adam felt comfortable as he saw Cece approaching him from the hallway. There was something comforting about her presence, something that put him at ease. He couldn't help but return her smile with a warm one of his own.

"Hey," she greeted softly, her voice carrying a sense of warmth and ease. "Paloma is back to sleep. I think she just needed a little reassurance."

"Good, I'm glad. Hopefully she sleeps the whole night." Adam sighed and he still sounded tired after his shower. You couldn't help but feel bad for him, you knew how much sports and a career could take a toll on a person. She couldn't even imagine on top of all of that, having a toddler to take care of. "And thanks, Cece. You're great with her."

She waved off his gratitude. "It's my pleasure, Adam. I enjoy spending time with her, she's such a sweet girl and she makes my job so much easier."

He nodded in agreement as he listened to her compliment. "She can be handful sometimes, but she's the best thing that's ever happened to me." There was a softness in his eyes as he spoke about his daughter, a deep love that was evident in every word.

Cece smiled warmly, her heart warmed by the genuine affection Adam had for Paloma. "It's clear how much you love her, Adam. It's beautiful to see."

Adam's gaze met hers, and for a moment, time seemed to slow down as they shared a silent connection. There was something about Cece that drew him in, something he couldn't quite put into words. He immediately internally yelled at himself, he couldn't ─ not with his nanny.

He cleared his throat, breaking the momentary silence. "Well, I'm glad you're here," he admitted, his eyes still fixed on her. "It's nice to have some company too."

Cece's smile brightened, and she took a step closer to him. "I'm here whenever you need me, Adam. For both of you." Her eyes widened as Adam looked back at her and she suddenly felt self-conscious. "Like, in a friend way. Of course," she laughed nervously.

Adam couldn't help but notice the sudden shift in Cece's demeanor, and he couldn't help but chuckle softly at her nervous laughter. He appreciated the clarification, even though part of him was tempted to explore where that unspoken connection might lead to.

"Of course, Cece," he replied with a warm smile. "Well, you're my first official friend in Ohio. Well, other than the team."

She returned the smile, "I'm honored, Adam." She laughed at that and he joined in a second later. The laughter filled the kitchen before she felt her phone buzz in her pocket.

"Oh shoot, I gotta get going. I have to pick up my friend,"

"No problem, Cece," Adam replied, his smile still lingering. "Thanks for taking care of Paloma tonight. And get home safe, text me when you get home." He wanted to self-palm himself after that one but Cece just smiled warmly at that, making all the anxiety melt away.

"I will, thank you. See you Monday," Cece replied, her warm smile making Adam's heart skip a beat. She waved goodbye before leaving, leaving Adam alone in the kitchen with a new sense of warmth and connection he hadn't felt in a while.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[httpsghostie]

ok hear me out- hurt/comfort with your dad best friend!ghost 🫢 i'm just craving for more of that series...

LOOK idk if you meant nsfw or sfw so I wrote what came to mind and didn't think much of it, still, feel free to ask if u want anything else 🩷

literally had an argument w my narcissistic mother today and almost broke the house down 😀 wish I had a dilf like Simon to run to smh

I hope u enjoy cuz idk I'm sad bro

Summary: you show up at Simon's door seeking for his comfort.

Word Count: around 600

Warnings: dbf!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x female!reader, kinda angst?, hurt/comfort situation blablabla

masterlist

"Horrible fucking day." 

Black eyeliner and mascara stained your swollen cheeks after crying for what felt like eternity. Simon stood there, inside his apartment, still holding the doorknob and trying to understand if this was somehow a joke. He had a confused expression, lips parting to formulate a sentence, but he just stepped back and signed for you to come in.

"What happened?" 

He asked as he headed to the kitchen and put some water in the kettle to make you a warm cup of tea. You sank on his couch, holding your knees to your chest in a fetal position and broke down in tears again.

"Fucking everything." You sobbed. "Why do I always have to do everything wrong, why do I have to be such a bad person?"

"You're… not?"

"I am. I am a terrible person in my mom's terms." He raised his eyebrows and sighed as you slowly started to talk louder.

"What did she do now?"

"Apparently I can't use my fucking voice in that fucking house, she's always the right one in every situation, she's never wrong, Simon, she's never fucking wrong."

"Ok, love, that's a lot of fucks, even for me."

You chuckled as he poured the water in a mug and brought you tea. It smelled so good, even though your nose was blocked from crying too much you could still sense the sweet smell of such a simple thing as his tea.

You had an exquisite relationship with Simon, he was best friends with your father, so anything besides talking kinda felt wrong. But he was such a good person to you, he truly understood your feelings and besides the point, he was the one you ran to whenever something bad happened, just like right now.

You sipped the tea, starting to calm down little by little.

"Better now?" He was sitting on the coffee table in front of you, and for a moment you wondered how the hell did that furniture not break with his weight. You nodded. "See? Tea makes everything better."

"You're so chronically british." You laughed.

"Oh, come on, I gave you a beautiful smile, hm?" Despite the unspoken restrictions from interacting with a girl that was way younger than him, he couldn't contain his flirtatious tone when he was alone with you.

"Ok, Simon, ok." You laughed with him and took a few more sips of his delicious tea.

"Alright, you, my dear, look worse than me when I take my mask off after being on a mission for three days in a row without sleeping."

"Thank you?" You giggled as he went to the bathroom and picked some wipes.

"Close your eyes." He said, standing behind you on the couch, trying to make you stop laughing. You laid your head back and smiled as he wiped your makeup off. "There you go, much better."

"Thanks, Si." You opened your eyes and looked at his upside down figure smiling softly at you.

Your eyes met, and suddenly you were lost in his deep ocean eyes, falling in a trance. Both of your smiles faded as his hands gently caressed your cheeks, leaning his body towards you. He gave you a peck on the forehead and one on your nose, then softly kissed your lips.

"Always."

taglist: @butterbunana @snoisisabitch @nuhteyam @iamabsolutelynothere @blissful--moon @jellyluvr @khomugi @xaintxun @kichimiz @frog-spot @sasukeswife3

[beautysamour]

Heyyy

Omg I love your writing so much 💖💖

I was wondering if u could do one with kenji where your warners twin and you're kinda funny and chill and basically warner and kenji r arguing or smthng and he comes and complains to u.

Sorry if its too specific it just came to me lol

Do I wanna know?

✧ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: kenji kishimoto x reader

✧ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: kenji kishimoto, mentioned aaron warner

✧ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Kenji fully believes you’re the better twin

✧ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none

✧ 𝐚/𝐧: !! despite being aaron’s twin, there’s no physical description of the reader, no specification for whether you’re identical to him or not !! thank you for the request 💓

“And then— and then! He tells me that he doesn’t even like me as a human so why would he love if me I was a worm,” he looks at you with an offended expression, “Can you believe that?!”

“No,” you say sarcastically with an amused smile, “Totally out of character for my brother.”

Kenji huffs and drops himself on your bed, “He’s terrible, y/n, I can’t believe you grew up with him.”

You snort, Kenji and your brothers relationship was…you don’t even know how to explain it. They weren’t exactly on bad terms but they did get in each others nerves—the complete opposite to your relationship with Kenji.

You always liked Kenji even when he was a soldier, and he liked you two. You didn’t have any power at Sector 45 so Kenji naturally separated you from your brother, at the time. But as time went on, Aaron grew on Kenji and your almost certain Kenji has also grown on your brother.

“He really isn’t that bad, Kenji,” you try not to laugh when he groans at your response.

“Yeah, well compared to you, he’s nothing like the saint you are.”

“Oh, woah,” you draw out your words sarcastically, “A saint.”

“Yes!” He exclaims, “If I haven’t made it obvious already, you’re the better twin.”

You laugh. It’s not a surprise that Kenji still preferred you over your brother, considering that he was your friend first, but Kenji’ dramatics never failed to entertain you. “I mean you did say he was the worst, didn’t take a lot to put two and two together and figure you liked me more.”

“See? I’d argue you’re also the smarter twin too.”

Your mouth drops in fake surprise, “Really?”

“Uh huh, I mean you love me so that automatically makes you smarter,” he says as he pushes himself up with his left arm.

You laugh again, “So is that all my brother did?”

“Y—,” he widens his eyes as if he remembered something a fully pushes himself up on your bed, “No actually. He said the only reason he tolerates—tolerates!— me is because we’re dating.”

You nod your head, it wasn’t really a lie if you were being honest. It was funny to you though.

You scoot closer to him putting on your best puppy dog eyes and look at him through your lashes—you try not to laugh when he visibly stiffens, “Yes….?”

You grab one of Kenji’ hands and put it in your lap. You start to play with his fingers, once you reach his middle you start talking, “Are you upset by that?”

“Um…all jokes aside just a little?”

You hum. “So are you saying that you’d rather be on his good side than mine?”

Kenji rearranges himself in your bed so he’s properly facing you and grabs your hands, completely falling for your little trick, “No! No, no, I was mainly joking—“

“Are you sure?” You take one of your hands from his grasp, “You seem awfully affected by it.”

“Well—of course. He’s most likely going to be my brother in law, I of course care about his opinion. But his—I don’t know what to call it—approval? I’d rather have yours over his any day.”

You remain quiet for a few moments dragging out the silence. Then you start to laugh, and Kenji starts to get confused.

“Did I say something funny?”

“No, but it’s just a little funny that you thought I was actually sad you were talking about my brother so much,” you say in between laughs, “I’m glad you care so much about his opinion.”

“Well—“

“And brother in law?”

Kenji opens his mouth but nothing comes out. He looks as if he got caught stealing something.

“Uh,” he starts to say, “Sorry if I—“

You shake your head and grab onto the collar of his shirt, you pull forward and make sure that your lips connected with his to shut him up.

Kenji relaxes into the kiss almost immediately, and you only pull away when his hands start to fiddle with the hem of your shirt, “Kenji,” you say softly and also as quiet as a whisper, “I’m not upset. I’m actually happy you’ve thought of, you know, with me.”

For what felt like the longest time since, Kenji smiled and said, “How could I not with you?”

[valentine-writes]

Hello!! I absolutely adore your spot HC!

I was wondering if you could write something pre-collider accident? When he was working for alchemax ^^

I would adore more content about him and reader being coworkers, maybe this is way too self indulgent, but I crave some good enemies/rivals to lovers with this man. I think the dynamic would be so fun ^^

competitive

「 tws + notes: possibly ooc, no tws, unedited, rivals to lovers (which i hope i do justice), pre-collider johnathan ohnn, reader and johnathan are petty,,, can u tell i like writing him mildly bitchy, plz forgive any conflicts w/ canon i researched but im like 99.9% sure there r still errors 」

「 gn!reader, romantic relationship <3 」

↳ ft. johnathan ohnn/the spot

author's note: ouughh i love this sooo much,,, thank u AUDHEWUFHEW o((>ω< ))o !!! im so excited to write more of pre-collider him,, ignore me as i feverishly research every bit of canon info i can get cuz i haven't been able 2 rewatch the movie yet i hope this is to ur liking! enemies to lovers is not my strong suit,, but OHOUWHUDHEWH RIVALS TO LOVERS!!! UNDERUTILIZED!!! might hafta make a part two tho,,, locked in on the rivals part,,, lovers part in progress. ok no more of my rambles

▸ ever since you had arrived at alchemax, you and johnathan just couldn't seem to get along. not a particularly useful thing, considering you both worked for the same research company where teamwork was vital though, you insisted you had no real spite for him, the second you had gotten the job, you just seemed to one-up him in every single way.

every. single. way.

▸ when given a deadline, you'd finish in half the time it took him. when completing research, you have the information compiled when he was just starting to organize his.

hell, you even succeeded in being more proficient socially. how had you made so many friends already?

▸ he had to admit you were terribly charming too– a trait he was particularly envious of– and from the few times he's seen you get coffee with one or two of the other scientists, he knew that everyone seemed to think the same

not like he was paying that much attention to you as he saw you laughing with another coworker through the cafe window. foam party? sounds boring anyways, whatever

▸ he wasn't mad because he was lonely, or saw himself as inferior to you. johnathan had friends and honestly didn't consider himself particularly bad at making them. johnathan knew he was intelligent and that with his work, he could accomplish something big.

no, this problem had nothing to do with him. it was you. besides you, all the things he worked hard for was just second nature.

how annoying.

▸ your sworn rivalry had been one-sided for the longest of time to any witnesses. grumbling under his breath while he passed you, making a great effort to speak curtly with you, and was certainly not beyond intentionally knocking his shoulder into yours when he passed the look you shot at him for doing this was enough to make him wither on the spot– unintentional joke. my bad.

but he knew you were just as competitive as he was. the way you acted just had to be intentional. some of your remarks towards him were too pointed to ignore– your smiles and your friendliness nothing more than keeping it as civil as possible in a workplace setting.

professionalism, masking a deeper intention: to outdo him.

▸ and once you had figured that your feigned innocence would no longer keep you afloat, that's when the true rivalry began. an ambition-fuelled climb to the top to be better than the other.

it manifested more childishly than you two cared to admit.

"you know, chewing on pens isn't great for your enamel." johnathan practically jumps out of his seat, your words effectively snapping him out of his completely focused state.

he grumbles, looking over at you while lowering the pen away from his mouth a habit that i have too... guys look away itz not projecting...

you only shrug your shoulders. "just saying, johnny."

"don't call me that." he retorts, trying not to roll his eyes. "are you here just to bother me with unsolicited comments about my habits and dental advice?"

you laugh and he feels his face heat up in annoyance. you and your stupid laugh. he's heard enough of it around the workplace while you chatted amongst the others. it was a sound he could live without.

"so hostile. we work together, y'know?" you grin. there's a glimmer of amusement in your eyes. you were getting on his nerves and you knew it.

"anyways, i just came to ask if you had a pen i could borrow. preferably not one with teeth marks." the last part is tacked on so briefly that johnathan didn't even have time to be offended about it before he replied.

he looks at you dead in the face. "sorry. i don't have an extra pen on me."

you glance at the completely untouched, unused, ballpoint pen on his desk and then back at him. he says nothing, staring at you silently, before you get the hint decide to go ask someone else.

▸ it gets pettier.

imagine johnathan eying up a coworker, getting all blushy and stumbling over his words around them.

and within a week, you've got their number– and he passes by the two of out in that STUPID FUCKING HIPSTER CAFE GODDAMMIT–

it's not that serious to him. he can move on from a workplace crush. he however, can't move on from the fact you swooped in before he even got a chance. you never care to bring up that on your little coffee date with that person ended up being a disaster– maybe it was for the better they stayed away from him

▸ of course, he was able to outdo you too. his biggest success?

"so," johnathan flinched away, about to walk out the glass doors of alchemax and head home for the day– only to find you with your back leaning against the frame, arms crossed. "heard you got put in charge over something pretty important."

he curses under his breath. "you can't just sneak up on people like that."

"i was literally standing here in plain sight the entire time."

"were you waiting for me or something?" he asks sarcastically. johnathan seems somewhat surprised when you don't respond, awkwardly averting your gaze from him for a moment hm. guess that's a "yes"...

"doesn't matter." you reply, shoving your hands in your pockets. "so... you're working on a portal thingy?"

"i'm one of the people overseeing it, yes." he huffs, trying to answer your questions quickly and just get the hell home. but as you figured, he had all the time in the world when it came to correcting you.

"and– the word portal is inaccurate."

you raise an eyebrow. "yeah?"

"it's a particle accelerator. you should know what that means. the goal of this project is to essentially create a passageway– a bridge, if you will– between two separate dimen–"

"so, a portal." you interrupt.

he glares at you and you swear his eye twitches.

"just wanted to know. congrats, ohnn." you say casually, before exiting out the door.

the next time he sees you, he discovers that head scientist, olivia octavius who just so happens to be fond enough of your work to hear you out when you asked her decided it would be a good idea to have you work on the project as well.

even though johnathan was still technically still ahead of you– he kicked himself for how quickly you were beginning to catch up. you flashed him a grin from your desk as you began to help out on the project– he forced one back through gritted teeth.

▸ after tirelessly working on the project together as a team still trying your very best to outdo one another he figures this feud of yours is getting nowhere.

you've both spent sleepless nights on this project you both equally cared for,, it was time to just give up and be normal coworkers. an odd conclusion for johnathan to reach as a notorious grudge holder. maybe the lack of rest was getting to him, too exhausted to even deal with you anymore. or maybe, he was satisfied where he was right now– on the verge of a huge breakthrough with him being one of the main contributors– he no longer needed the pleasure of being better than you.

"how did you even get this number?" you ask, recognizing his voice through the phone as he greeted you.

"well, funny thing actually. alchemax has all the employee information on files, so i just–"

the realization hits you. "snooped through mine to get my phone number?! you're insane!"

he's desperate to explain, just trying to get to his point without getting a headache from you. "no, no, no– wait, i didn't come to fight or anything–"

"then what do you want, johnathan? a little medal? a trophy or somethin? you're probably getting that anyways after this whole thing– so,, so– what? what is it?!" you snap.

this is the only blatant hostility you've ever shown him. both ends of the call fall silent.

"wow uh– that was a lot." he mumbles awkwardly.

"...'m sorry." the shame makes your ears burn up. it is getting childish. you can't deny it.

he blinks at his phone, before bringing it back up to his ear. "did you just apologize? have i got the right person?"

it's your turn to groan. "are you trying to get me to take it back?"

"no! no, no, no– sorry." he replies quickly, stuttering as he tries to get back on track. "i just wanted to talk...."

the words hang in the air for much longer than needed.

"just spit it out already." you inturrupt.

"we should truce." he blurts out. "you know... maybe we should calm down. start over."

johnathan pauses for a moment, waiting for a reaction from you. you give him absolutely nothing. he takes a deep breath before speaking up again.

"i just thought it'd be better this way. this is getting ridiculous. and i think we're both mature enough to move past it so–"

"no, thank you."

he falters momentarily, processing what you had just said. "i'm– i'm sorry, i think misheard you."

"no, you heard me," you repeat, your smile clear as day in your voice, "no. thank. you."

"i like what we've got going on. keeps me motivated." the sweetness in your tone makes him cringe.

"you can't be serious." he rubs the bridge of his nose, fighting off the urge to lose his mind.

"oh, but i am." you lean into your phone's mic, voice dropping to a whisper. "just give me time. i'll catch up with you eventually."

your stubborness was truly something else.

"nope. can't do this, not today, nope–"

you laugh to yourself, hearing him hang up. you secretly hoped he'd at least keep talking to you a little longer. probably just a result of being a tad sleep deprived too.

▸ the collider is almost finished. ever since the phone call, you and johnathan hadn't talked for days.

and now, there you were, at his desk.

"need a pen?" he asks, looking up at you, expecting you to bother him again.

you shake your head. "actually, i came to ask for something else. i've been thinking about what you said..."

the words catch in your throat. you stare at the ground, the humiliation of what you're about to say causing you to fidget with your hands. he's never seen you like this– timid and anxious in his presence rather than smug and confident. it's a sight that he thought would bring him joy– but he's far beyond that now. instead, he looks at you curiously, not unlike the way he observes specimens.

"go on..." he says, leaning in slightly.

you meet his gaze sheepishly. "yeah. maybe a truce doesn't sound so bad."

he smiles back, cautious but hopeful. "you mean it?"

"this isn't me surrendering." you're quick to say, though your defensiveness falls flat, only causing his smile to fade for a moment. "i'm growing bored of it. we can just move on." it's not what he had in mind– but he'll take it.

"okay. sounds... good?" he replies awkwardly, unsure of what to do.

"mhm. so, you still have my phone number, right?"

he freezes. "yes... but– um– i can just delete it from my contacts now if– if you want. that was weird of me to do. really sorry 'bout that. just wanted to talk."

"nah. keep it." you say with a slight shrug of your shoulders. he tilts his head slightly at your reaction.

"i'll text you when work's done so we can grab a coffee or somethin." there's that smile he's grown so familiar with. this time it has no undertones of aggression– something which he finds more unnerving somehow. he can't tell what you're up to.

"i– uh– what–" he stammers.

you await the rejection.

"i mean– sure... but... you want that?" he asks, his tone careful, like he expects this to just be a scheme of yours. never in a million years would he think that you'd want to actually resolve whatever conflict you had going on. much less, spend time with him outside of work.

" i mean, i just offered, didn't i?"

"right– ...so uh– after work then. okay. it's a date."

he mentally kicks himself for the last part. "i– not like– a date, date, but–"

you don't give him time to stumble over his words and make a fool of himself.

"great." you turn to leave, but glance over your shoulder before walking away. "see you later, johnny."

▸ you failed to acknowledge this earlier, and maybe he had too– but over the course of your mutual rivalry, you found that you admired him. his brain, his work, his sheer tenacity– and he admired you too.

perhaps you didn't have to be better than one another.

"here's to new beginnings." you mutter to yourself, shooting him a text while waiting at the cafe.

[rv3rblog]

kyle “gaz” garrick headcannons

headcannons w gaz as ur bf bc hes so bf (mine)

warnings: some suggestive content (maybe some small smut), war themes, military inaccuracies, prob ooc too

mdni !!

kyle “gaz” garrick x male!reader

part i part ii

prettiest boy ever i wanna kiss him

first let’s lay the scene, how you two meet

if you’re a civilian you guys probably met at a bar near the base after one of his missions

you’re alone, a hard day at work and you wanted to have a drink or two before walking back home (you live on the same block as the bar)

the bar is small, quiet and not well known. technically only locals in the area go to it and you’re a regular

always showing up after work having a drink and then leaving

he notices you first when he walks in, a pretty boy sitting at the bar nursing a drink in your hands

you notice him as he’s seated with the task force, all four of them seemingly tired with their muscles aching

i feel like he’s the type to rub his neck to get rid of the tension and kinks so you probably notice that

he can feel your eyes on him, having been trained to be aware of his surroundings

you take him in, your eyes raking his body and his face, trying to memorize him

you turn back to your drink, your cheeks feeling warm at the fact that he’s absolutely gorgeous and you kinda want to talk to him

he also wants to talk to you, i feel like he’s shy about it though, being around his friends and colleagues and most of all he’s absolutely infatuated with how you look

neither of you make a move that night, too shy and too nervous

you show up the next day, talking with the bartender and chuckling at a joke they said

you don’t notice when gaz walks in, you’re seated at one of the few tables on your laptop doing some work

you don’t feel his gaze on you right away, it takes a couple minutes

when you look up, you feel your breath stuck in your throat because last time you saw him the lights were dimmed heavily and he was wearing a jacket

now? jesus christ you feel like someone ran you over

he’s standing at the bar looking at you, a tshirt on that hugs his arms and some seemingly tight jeans

he’s looking at you and you’re looking at him

he walks over to you after a couple minutes and the two of you get to talking even some flirting from both of you

now im not entirely sure if i hc gaz as like shy yk? but lets say he’s slightly shy

so when he does flirt with you? you can tell he’s shy. he may be looking at you, but theres a small smile on his face as he does so (yk when u blush? idk if its just me but i tend to have a small smile as i blush)

“you’re really…”

“i’m really…?”

“breathtaking. you’re breathtaking.”

needless to say you can feel your cheeks warming up after that.

and when he asks you out on a date?? woooo

you’re smiling, your work forgotten as you talk with him

he’s also smiling, i kinda imagine he has his hands on the table as he leans on it to get a closer look at you

now let’s say you guys are officially official bfs

you know he’s military, that’s all he really offers you and you don’t pry

you still show up at the bar after work to drink and then go home, that didn’t change

what did change was gaz showing up every once in a while in between deployments (when he could get away without anyone really asking questions, it was always a surprise to you)

he compliments you all the time

he’s also slightly touchy with pda

he loves holding your hand or even just caressing your hand with his thumb

he likes when you touch your knee with his when you’re sitting with him

he also likes seeing your smile when you spot him walking into the bar

he’s cheesy

and i mean like cheesy pick up lines (they’re terrible but they make you laugh, that’s why he says them)

if you aren’t big on pda? he’s cool with it.

and i mean he’s fine. it doesn’t bother him

he respects your boundaries

they’re would be moments where he’s antsy after a mission, happy to see your safe but needing touch

and you can tell

those are some of the moments you let him do what he wants when it comes to pda knowing it calms him down

it had been maybe a couple weeks since you last saw kyle. you were in your usual table and your laptop was out as you did some work. like usual you didn’t notice when someone new walked into the bar.

from your peripheral vision, you saw someone sit down in front of you. their arms were crossed and their leg bouncing. you look up and smile when you spot kyle in front of you.

he’s in some causal clothes, not wearing any military equipment. he has a cap on though, that was always a consistent sometimes.

you reach your hand over, showing him that you’re okay with him touching you right now.

that’s all he needs.

he reaches over and holds your hand, his grip tighter than usual but that’s okay.

you continue you work with one hand, occasionally caressing his hand with your thumb. you hear his chair scoot over to be next to you. you look over to see him sitting next to you, your arm no longer on the table but on his lap.

you go back to your work. you don’t talk usually waiting for him to talk first when he comes back.

he then leans his head on your shoulder. you hear him sigh contently as he watches you work.

you keep moving your thumb, reminding him you’re there with him.

he holds your head so softly. like he just admires you. like legit heart eyes as he looks at you

he thinks you’re the prettiest boy out there

i feel like gaz is a soft kisser

he isn’t hard or pushing when kissing, he’s gentle with it trying to savor the moment

he definitely cradles your face in his hands as he kisses you ESPECIALLY after coming home from a mission

so soft (until it isnt)

if he comes home to you after a bad mission? his body still shaking from the adrenaline? oh this man will absolutely hold your face as he kisses you passionately

he’s definitely pushing you against a wall as well as he does this

his thigh between your legs as you whine into the kiss

yeah

he likes hearing your little whines

teases you abt it though, like he’s so cocky

“hm? my pretty boy likes it when i touch him?”

“oh you’re gorgeous, whining just because i kissed you?”

big on praise. always calling you pretty and good

biiiig on body worship. like big on it

he will have you laying down and his hands will move all over your body as he whispers praises into your mouth as you two kiss

“such a pretty boy. so good for me.”

“absolutely gorgeous, all mine yeah?”

slightly possessive? like he will leave marks on your neck and collarbones

calls you his. his boyfriend, his pretty boy, ect

when he introduced you to the group it’s maybe a year into dating

they’re like his family, he wants to be sure you guys will last before doing so

so, it’s around a year or abt to be a year

you’re in the bar, looking over some work a pen in your mouth as you think

they all walk in and here’s the thing — your table is small only big enough for two people

now imagine four six foot men trying to sit around it and not disturb your notes

you smile brightly at gaz as he sits next to you

to say you’re nervous is an understatement

the day before you were on the phone with a friend running around your apartment spewing your worries

“what if they don’t like me? yeah i know it sounds dumb but these guys are important to kyle- i need them to like me.”

they can all tell you mean a lot to gaz so they play nice

they ask questions and watch as you listen to them talk

ghost is the first one to notice you squeezing gaz’s hand as you speak to them — your hand on his lap

price is the one to notice how gaz is absolutely relaxed around you — slightly letting his guard down

soap is the one who notices you looking softly at gaz, your eyes so full of adoration and love

they leave the bar and you relax against gaz

“did they like me?”

“love-”

“they mean a lot to you kyle, i need to know if this went well.”

“it did.”

and like ?? it warmed his heart knowing you want to get along with them

he just loves you so much

like you’re his safe space after seeing all the horror around the world

he likes holding you as he sleeps, makes him feel like you’re protected

sometimes you can’t get out of his grip even if he’s dead asleep

while trying to fall asleep he whispers into your hair about how much he loves you, his hand tracing patterns on your stomach

you have your hand over his, caressing it with your thumb

he falls asleep after you unless he’s absolutely exhausted

it makes him feel better to know you’re safe in his arms

he loves telling his team about you after you guys meet

always going off about you

“actually my boyfriend said that-”

“he’s actually talking about getting a pet together.”

“i think he’d enjoy that joke, you should tell him next time we all hang out.”

he’s so in love with you it’s absolutely sickeningly

[starsomens]

this is for my ✨ bilingual girlies ✨ I am one which is why this can be grammatically incorrect but whatever

Noah finds your accent ADORABLE. and HOT of course. like, he can listen to you for hours noticing how certain words and/or syllables here and there in your speach sound different from what he's used to hear and it hits the right spot for him;

with that being said, he still jockingly mocks you from time to time trying to do impressions of the way you speak. he never takes it to far though, so it's just an ongoing banter which you gladly paticipate in, intentionally making your accent sound harsher from how you "normally" speak;

and you and Jolly cooperate in making Noah lose his mind with your accents. Hoah goes like "guys, human throats are not designed to reproduce such insane sounds, what planet are you both from?"

you melt when he lovingly says "you're so special, you're out of this world" only to roll your eyes three seconds later when he continues "seriuosly, you're a fucking alien, the more you talk the more I'm sure of it. I won't turn you in though, you're mine now";

he also makes fun of you when you misspell in your texts to him. "darling, are you okay? is everything alright or you having a stroke? should we call an ambulance or an English teacher?":

also, did you know your voice sounds not the same when you speak different languages? no? oh, trust me, HE KNOWS. it never stops to amuse him how suddenly your voice switches to softer and huskier or goes higher and cuter depending of the language. to him it's basically the same kind of "magic" (you call it that) he uses when he sings switching registers, so yeah, your voice is music to his ears. and he loves that more than anything;

sometimes you forget certain words or mix them up and it makes you feel awkward and embarressed. you're afraid that you speak gibberish instead of proper English. especially in front of Noah with his sophisticated way of expressing his thoughts. but not only he ALWAYS knows what you're trying to say, he also makes you feel less in your head about it. for example, he makes up silly stories about him saying the wrong words at the wrong circumstances and embarrassing the heck out of himself (and you're sure it never happened, but he wants to cheer you up so you play along) or he turns your mistakes into something special for the two of you, like an inside joke or a secret code (remember that cringy "I wolf you" line from You? yep, that's what I'm talking about). so when he shows you his new song which is his personal love anthem to you and the greatest thing he's ever written to this day and you say it's terrible instead of terrific, he looks as proud as he only can be and jokingly says he tried his best to make it the worst song in the history of music. from now on all of his song are "terrible". and all about you, of course;

remember when he said that Jolly comes up with the greatest lyrics without realizing it because he thinks in Swedish? same applies to you. it truly fascinates Noah to hear you saying the most beautiful genius things based on some sayings in your first language. he takes inspiration from that and includes it in his lyrics without saying that and you realize it afterwards when you hear him singing it;

he's for sure secretly learning your language just to surprise you all of the sudden. like, you two have a movie night date on your big comfy couch, he brushes his fingers through you hair and says "I love you" in your language and you automatically reply back the same way and then go "wait, did you just..?" and he sits there smiling from ear to ear and being so hella proud of himself, throwing at you one compliment in your mother tongue after another. and you have no idea when or how he managed to learn it all but it makes you love him even more;

which is why the next thing he'll learn from you will be the dirty talk. oh god, help us all lol

ANON SHIT UP RN

COME TO MY HOUSE SO I CAN GIVE U KISSES STOOPPPPPPP OMG MY HEART

So I was born here, but I want to say that, technically my first language was Spanish. I spent a lot of time with my grandmother and I had heard from someone that the way you express your emotions, whatever language you use is your first language, which I thought was a very cool concept. And a lot of times there are words that I don’t know in English so I just resort to Spanish but oh my God literally made me smell so big I’m at work and the noise I let out was crazyOMMGGGGG

I was going to write a small story on this, but you beat me to the punch, but I’m not complaining. I will add onto this later on thank you thank you thank you thank you again.🩷🩷🩷🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

[starlitangels]

Wanderlust with Guy please and thank you!

I love your works! 💚 anon

What a delightful word! A friend of mine said that would be her superhero name if she had one. I always loved the idea.

Anyway

Wanderlust

—

Raising a brow, you lean back from the sink where you're washing dishes. "What are you doing?" you ask. Sharper than you meant, but then again Guy is used to that by now.

His head snaps up from where he's been staring at his laptop. You thought he was still working on the script for another episode of the TV show he's been writing (and rewriting) since before you got together, but now you're getting suspicious that's not the case. "I don't know what you mean, honey," he said.

The dimple in his left sinks into his cheek as he loses the fight in suppressing a smile.

"The hell you don't," you mutter, turning the sink off. You shake the water from doing the dishes off your hands and wipe the rest on a dishtowel, moving to go over. "You've sighed wistfully four times in the last ten minutes. What are you even doing?"

He partially closes his laptop, a blush riding high on his cheekbones, darkening the freckles spattered over his skin. "Nothing, baby!"

You drop your elbow on the back of the couch and perch your chin on your hand. "You're a terrible liar, you know that?" you say. Flatly—but with a hint of amusement.

"I'm not lying! I really am doing nothing!"

"Then what's the wistful sighing about?"

In typical Guy fashion, he sputters. "D'oh—well—I—uh—it's just that—mmm—" He makes a face. Adorable in the attempt at frustration. "I was looking at potential locations for that movie I was telling you about wanting to write."

You nod, raising one brow higher than the other. "Mmhmm...?"

Ears turning a deep, dark red, Guy opens his laptop properly again. "I got carried away." He shows you the screen.

"Babe, how many Pinterest boards do you have at this point?"

"This is only my..." He switches tabs and counts. It takes him a while. "Forty-ninth!"

"And what's this new one?"

"Well... uh... like I said. It started out as locations for the spy movie. But then I got distracted by some of the recommended Pins below the ones I was looking at. And, uh... it kinda turned into..." He scrolls up to the top, showing the board's title. "Everywhere I hope you and me get to travel together."

Wanderlust

"I," you correct.

"What?"

"You and I. You said 'you and me.' But grammatically it's I." You give him a small, fond smile. "You're the writer. I figured you'd know that."

He gives you a patented Guy Dramatic Look™. "Honey, do you know how much braining it takes to make the words go? I'm not in braining mode. I'm in 'chill on Pinterest' mode! I'm allowed to make grammar errors when I talk if I want!"

You snicker and kiss the side of his head. "Move your computer."

He shuffles it to the side that you're not on. You vault the back of the couch and land next to him. Pretending to ignore the way his breath catches and his pupils dilate as you drape an arm over his shoulders. "That was hot, you know that?"

"Mm. So you've mentioned once or twice. Why do you think I keep doing it?" You give him a sly, wry smirk before peering over his shoulder at his screen. "Go on. Show me where we're gonna go."

He's still staring at you, though his gaze has dipped a little lower, watching where the U-shaped divet between your collarbones sinks and shallows with your breathing. "Can that, uh... wait till later?" he asks. "Because, uh... I just had a much better idea." His voice shifts to that joking, flirtatious one he always uses as he gives you a wink and a lopsided smile.

You flatten a look at him. "Which is?"

"Oh... I don't know... it might involve you shoving me down onto the bed... and things of that nature. Maybe uh... playing a little rough, if you know what I mean—heh-heh!"

"You're a nightmare," you mutter. "Show me the damn Pinterest board."

He flops his head backward and groans. "You're no fuuun—"

You cut him off by grabbing his collar and pulling him in for a rough kiss. He yelps before melting into it. You can't help but snicker. He falls for it every time and you know how much he likes it when you surprise him.

He pulls back a little breathless. "Still wanna see the Pinterest board?"

"I saw enough of it. Beaches and cities and highlands. We can talk about the dreams and the details later. Let's skip to the good part this time."

His pupils blow even wider. "Whatever you say, honey," he says.