#gary x reader

[shiroisotto64]

Fionna & Cake hcs

Fionna

She’s and adrenaline junkie. No questions asked. She loves to bring you with her on adventures! Fighting is already fun, but it’s so much better with company. (Especially if you’re dating)

You’d have to help her keep the apartment in check. It’s a mess when she’s not reminded to tidy it up. Put on some music and she’ll be more willing to get up and clean.

KEEP HER OUT OF THE KITCHEN. This woman CANNOT cook to save her life. That’s why Fionna and cake each sandwiches and take out. She’s tried but Fionna has a track record for burning water so…

Really affectionate and doesn’t mind PDA. She gets flustered but will return you’re affections without question. She’s also always hyping you up. New outfit? She’s the first to comment. Killed a bad guy really quickly? She’s quick to pull you into a strong hug afterwards.

Date nights are anything under the sun honestly. Cuddling in bed? Yeah. Going to a concert? Absolutely!

You could go skating, swimming, anything really but it’s best to do something that can keep her occupied. If she gets bored she’ll kinda space out. She doesn’t mean to though and will apologize later.

Simon

He likes to read to you. In fact he’ll lend you his books to read so you can both talk about it afterwards. He gets really excited to do this and tends to ramble. So you’ll have to excuse him.

Once you say something he’s more conscious and tries not to do it anyone unless your encourage him. He still has his dark days but it’s way easier with you. However Simon hates feeling like a burden.

So he’s not the best with communicating his problems. He tends to lock them away until he snaps. He always feels horrible and leaves for a bit to calm down and clear his head.

He’s an introvert. But if you want him to go with you he’ll try at least. But he will be vocal about it if he feels uncomfortable and wants to go back home. Date nights are pretty chill honestly.

Baking, watching movies / documentaries. Reading or talking about books together. He likes when you talk about you’re interests! He’ll listen and ask questions so he gets it to. He gets real flustered with PDA so keep that in mind to.

Marshall Lee

Real laid back and chill. He plays his guitar while y’all hang out. He has and still will write songs about and or inspired by you and his friends.

He’s really supportive. He encourages you to go after you’re dreams and do whatever makes you happy. Marshall finds it real cute when you wear his shirts or button ups.

Hell he encourages it even. He vents to you about his mom sometimes. He really appreciates you listening and is even more appreciative if you give him advice on how to properly talk to / get through to her.

Has a sweet tooth. You can easily bride him with sweets of any kind. Want him to wash the dishes for you? Whip out a box of his fav cookies from the store. He’s never washed dishes faster in his life.

You’d end up paying for a lot of stuff, sorry. He tries his best to get money singing on the corners and streets of the town yet it only pays so much. He really appreciates it if you’re patient with him.

He’s ok with Pda and will reciprocate you’re affections but doesn’t expect to not be teased in the process.

Gary

He’s like a mother hen. He gets worried if you don’t answer his texts within 10 minutes honestly. It might get annoying and if it does? Gently tell him how you feel and he’ll do his best to be more patient.

He likes cooking and baking for you. And it makes his whole week if you praise his skills and tell him how much you love it. Bonus point if you can bake or if you give him constructive criticism!

He likes it when you play in his hair. He loves it when you pull his head into you’re lap and run you’re fingers through his pink hair. He’ll be out in minutes honestly.

Gary swoons whenever you put on his sweaters. He has bought the both of you matchin ones. And he is also the type to wanna get matching couples outfits. Just putting that out there.

He likes it when you to clean together. He cleans the dishes and you rinse them off. You both finish that much faster and after he goes up behind you to embrace you. He’ll stay like that for as long as you let him.

Gets flustered by PDA but welcomes it anyways. And Gary is super affectionate at night. He doesn’t care if he’s big or little spoon just hold him.

Finn

He’s affectionate and tries to be as honest with you as he can. But Finn isn’t the best with negative feelings. We all saw how he struggled to help Simon and was a bit awkward while doing it.

Another adrenaline junkie. He likes to go camping and adventuring with you. Anything fun and active and he’s in. Finn Is also very considerate of the things you like and will get you something that reminds him of you while he’s out. Or something he knows you’ll like.

Really playfully. He’ll sometimes just pick you up and throw you over his shoulder before walking off to go knows where. He has complete faith in you and is real happy if you feel the same!

Doesn’t get jealous, like at all. Like I said complete trust in you. He doesn’t question you’re actions and just goes with the flow. He’s very comfortable with you’re bond.

He’s chill with Pda. If you hug him he’ll hug back. You want a kiss? You got it. No questions asked. He is protective of you though. Yet is also confident in you’re abilities but if you need help he’s there in the blink of an eye.

Winter King

Loves to sing to you! He’ll declare his love to you in and out of town. He loves to spoil you. Anything you want is yours. He always smiles at you whenever he catches you looking at him.

Will pull you in to dance with him. You both go ice skating all the time and if you don’t know how he’ll teach you. He’s real patient with you, so don’t worry. He tries to impress you. He’s very subtle about it but if you pay attention you can see it.

He’d melt if you sat on his lap while he sat on his throne. He has introduced you to ice Marcy. I think you’d all get along pretty well. Kinda like a little family. Also his two guards love hanging out with you.

Training and skating you name it they’re in. Simon chuckles while he watches them drag you around. He’s really affectionate to. You both are attached at the hip! He has to have a hand on you at all times or he’ll explode.

Winter king can’t help but to flush if you pull him down to press kisses to his face. He also loves when you run you’re fingers through his silky hair. He lets you go in his lab. He answers you’re questions if you have any.

Candy Queen

(I couldn’t find any gifs I’m sorry)

She’s the clingiest. You’re not allowed to go anywhere without her. You can barely get alone time in the bathroom. She’s always writing new songs to sing to you.

She’ll put on a show to win you’re praises and affection. Like i said she really affectionate. She’ll take naps on you throughout the day. She does drool a little but you’ll be ok.

Not much to say I feel like shes really straight forward. She’s not ashamed of the pictures she has of you in her room and openly flirts with you. Dose not mind PDA she heavily encourages it even.

Gets all giddy if you annotate affection. She’d be chill to watch cartoons with you while you both laze around doing nothin in particular.

[viceroywrites]

private show - part two

part two of three - henchman 21 x camstar!reader

ao3 ver here

Gary ends up stumbling upon your profile on a camstar website 24 had mentioned to him. He quickly becomes your most loyal viewer and top tipper.

So why not reward him with a private show?

(Set during Season 3/Pre-Two Ton 21)

18+ only, minors dni.

“Oh my god! Oh my god!” Gary exclaims in shock, holding his laptop in between his thick fingers as he rushes out of his room. He books it down the hall, banging on 24’s door in urgency.

24 sticks his head out, cautious that the Moppets may be on the other side and ready to slam the door but relaxes at the sight of Gary, “I thought you were the Moppets… come in.” He opens the door, allowing Gary to rush inside and shove the screen up to 24’s face.

“Dude, you are not gonna believe this! Look at this message I just got from her!” Gary says in excitement, still in awe of the whole situation.

24 grabs the laptop from Gary’s shaky hands, sitting down on his bed as he reads over the message. His eyes widened before responding, “I told you she’s into you! So you’re gonna take her up on the offer, right?”

“I don’t know… I mean I’d absolutely love to get a private session with her but what if she wants me to turn on my camera? I mean I totally would get that, since there are total creeps in her chat that are probably like 60 year old men.” Gary rambles, pondering his next steps, “I don’t know if I can do it. What if she sees what I look like and gets turned off and totally just blocks me?”

“Well, too late because I already said yes for you.” 24 says with a grin, turning the laptop over to reveal the message he typed out and sent back to you, written eerily how Gary envisioned he might respond. 

‘Oh my god, I totally wasn’t expecting this at all! It would be an honor to get a private session from you.’

Time freezes for Gary as he processes what his best friend has just done, staring between him and the computer screen before snatching the laptop away from 24, “Oh my god, is there an option to unsend?”

“It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity! When will a super hot chick just offer to have cam sex with you, no payment needed?” 24 attempts to rationalize it, placing his hands on Gary’s shoulders.

Before Gary can respond, a notification tone rings through 24’s room and the two huddle around the laptop to read your reply back.

‘You’re such a sweetheart, Viceroy. Just let me know what times and days work best for you, I’m pretty much available the rest of this week. Looking forward to it!’

“You’re welcome,” 24 replies simply, patting Gary’s shoulder, “Also, why are your keys sticky?”

“Well…” Gary trails off, and 24’s face morphs into disgust at the realization of what Gary was just doing prior to him storming into his room.

“Oh dude, gross! Now I have to wash these gloves!” 

-

You felt butterflies in your stomach as you read back Viceroy’s enthusiastic reply, having a brief back and forth to discuss each other’s availability before solidifying a time and day that worked with both of your schedules the following week.

You couldn’t put a finger on what had you so giddy about the prospect of potentially putting a face to the user behind the screen though you tried to level your expectations that he may not even show his face on camera. 

There was something about his charming yet dorky personality that showed through his sporadic comments that had you throwing caution into the wind, offering a private session that normally would cost a hefty price.

As the days began to approach, excitement bubbled in your chest, quite distracted from your day to day routine. In preparation, you had picked out a special set outfit that made you feel the most confident and sexy, and made sure your collection of toys was easily accessible at the edge of your bed in case you got any special requests.

The feeling was mutual as Gary had a pep in his step for the rest of the week, excited but also anxious about potentially having to reveal his face to you. He tried to push the latter feeling aside, though it was difficult to stay distracted considering his henchman duties were pretty much put on hold as the Monarch tried to find a new arch and the Moppets ended up going on the most recent arch.

However, after that arch went south and Gary and 24 joined the Monarch in his raid of the Venture compound against his wife’s wishes, things picked back up as Dr. Mrs the Monarch found an arch that was adjacent enough to Venture that it quelled Monarch’s desires to arch only Venture for now - his brother, JJ.

The days flew by, landing on the day of your scheduled private session. Gary and 24 alongside Henchman 1 were assigned to execute a Dark S7 Maneuver by the Monarch. What Gary had hoped would be a straight-forward mission that would somehow turn out smoothly and with him and 24 unscathed and back at the Cocoon by dinner time turned into a complicated mess with the addition of Henchman 1. Being stranded in the middle of the ocean somewhere near Spider Skull Island with no reception, Gary had no way of letting you know that he would not be making your planned private session.

-

You sat in front of your laptop, an antsy smile spread across your features as your hands fiddled with your outfit, assessing it through the webcam. You had agreed that Viceroy would initiate the call as he had mentioned earlier in the day that he may run a little late due to work. 

A few minutes passed and you shrugged it off.

5 minutes turns into 10.

10 turns into 15.

You bite your lower lip as you try to come up with reasons as to why he may be running late.

15 turns into 20.

Your fingers fly across the keyboard, shooting him a message through the camsite’s chat function. You curse internally, wishing you had another way of contacting him outside of the confines of the website.

20 turns into 30. 

When there is no response to your message, you slowly begin to give up hope. 

‘I mean he did say he might run late.. Maybe I’ll give it another couple minutes.’ 

30 turns into an hour.

You sigh in defeat, deciding to send a message offering to reschedule before shutting the laptop. Part of you thought about taking advantage of the fact that you were already dressed up to do a last minute live show but your ego was a bit bruised and you knew that you would be distracted the entire time.

You get up to change into something more comfortable, and slip back into bed, deciding to scroll on your phone to get your mind off of getting stood up tonight. It proved unsuccessful as your brain attempted to come up with reasons for why he didn’t show up.

Maybe work kept him later?

Maybe something came up after work?

Maybe his power went out?

Each excuse you made for him fell apart as you came to the reasons that revolved around you.

Maybe he didn’t want to do this?

Maybe you pressured him into this?

Maybe he got anxious over the thought of having to show his face and bailed?

You sigh, reaching over to grab your laptop from your bed-side table. You deflate slightly as there is still no response and decide to send one final message before closing the laptop and turning off the lights, hoping that there would be answers awaiting you the next morning.

-

The moment Gary boarded the Cocoon, he ran straight to his room, knowing he was at this point two hours late to the assigned time. By the time he and 24 figured out where Drop Point Alpha 7 was and got picked up by the Cocoon, it was dark outside and way past the time that you two had agreed upon for your private session. Praying for the off-chance that you might still be online, he opens his laptop, logging into his account on the cam site.

To his dismay, he’s greeted with the following messages.

‘Hey, hope everything’s ok! Just wanted to see how much longer you think you’ll be.’

‘It’s getting kinda late and I’m guessing you’re probably not gonna make it since it’s been an hour. Let’s try and reschedule!’

‘Hey, I’m about to knock out for the night but I just wanted to say I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable by suggesting this. I also want you to know you don’t have to show your face on camera if you’re not comfortable and didn’t show up because of that. Let me know if you want to reschedule or if you’d rather not do it at all. I completely understand and hope you’re ok!’

“I can’t believe I screwed this up, now she’s gonna think I’m a total prick!” Gary groans, running his hands over his face before pulling back the hood of his uniform along with the mask in frustration.

He sucks in a deep breath, getting up to change out of his henchman uniform. After shedding his clothes, he sits back in his bed in just his boxers, laptop on his chest as he mulls over all the possible ways he can apologize.

After a few drafts that get rewritten over and over again, Gary finally hits send on his apology, placing his laptop on the side table next to his bed before closing his eyes, hoping that his apology will suffice.

-

You awake the next morning, finally sitting up in bed after about an hour of mindless scrolling. 

The sting from being stood up last night has subsided a bit as you go about your normal routine, getting out of bed, grabbing your laptop from your desk to check some emails, and heading to the kitchen to fix yourself some breakfast. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you carry your meal over to the table, taking a seat before cracking open your laptop.

You had started camming a few years ago after your work at the time had cut your hours, making it difficult to pay rent and bills without it being tight each month. After hearing about a friend’s experiences doing camming on the side, you figured you could try it out for a couple months just to help with your expenses while you searched for a new job.

A few months turned into a year which turned into more and while you were able to find a new job with more security, you liked having the extra money to spend on yourself and loved ones. It was like another job to you - log on, perform for an hour or two, log off. Rinse and repeat.

You rarely offered private sessions - only having done two so far in honor of hitting major milestones in your viewership. Yet you offered to a complete stranger who just started watching you regularly a few months ago. Something about Viceroy made camming feel different - more intimate, less like work. The last few lives you’ve done, your main focus has been what would rile him up versus focusing on appealing to your whole audience.

It was intriguing.

He was intriguing, clearly dorky and a bit awkward but that’s what made him so charming.

After checking your emails, you decide to log into the cam site, curious to see if there was any response from him.

Your jaw dropped, cheeks feeling hot as you’re met with way more text on the screen than you were expecting.

‘Oh my god, I am SO SO SO SO sorry! I feel really bad about keeping you waiting but please know I wasn’t blowing you off on purpose!  I got tied up at work way later than I expected and I didn’t have any signal out where I was so I couldn’t let you know. You didn’t make me uncomfortable at all, I can't believe you even offered because you have all these dudes in your chat every live and you’re like an actual goddess. I was kinda nervous to show my face but it’s totally worth it just to get to talk to you one-on-one! If you’re still up for rescheduling, I’m free all day tomorrow. Again, I’m so sorry and I really hope I can make it up to you. ’

Your lips turn into an amused grin as you read over the text once more, giggling at the sweet and sincere apology. Part of you wondered what work he did that had him going to places with no cell service but you brushed it off as an unimportant detail. Thankful that you have the day off today, you reply right away, the butterflies in your stomach returning.

-

“I mean at least she offered to reschedule. Most dates I’ve had in the past that I had to miss because of henching didn’t even offer, they just ghosted me.” 24 said, reading over the messages from last night before glossing over Gary’s message, “Jeez, could you have laid it on more thick with the apology? An actual goddess?”

Gary snatches his phone away, crossing his arms defensively, “Hey, she is a goddess! Plus you’re the one who said this was a once in a lifetime opportunity!” 

Before 24 can respond, Gary’s phone buzzes to life, a notification popping up that you had replied to his message.

“Oh my god, she replied back!” Gary said with excitement, his fingers typing in his passcode hastily to unlock his phone to read the message.

‘Hey, glad you’re ok and thanks for your apology, it was really sweet and while I don’t think I’m quite goddess level, I appreciate the compliment. :) 

I’m coincidentally off today too, I’m gonna run errands in a bit but does 4 work for you?’

“I told you the goddess compliment was a bit much.” 24 said, reading over his friend’s shoulder to which Gary silenced him with a “Shush!” before typing out an eager reply.

‘It absolutely works for me! I’ll see you then, thanks for giving me another chance.’

Gary pauses before hitting send, looking back at 24, “You’re positive The Monarch doesn’t have anything planned for today?”

“Nope, think the boss is scheming up a new plan to arch Dr. Venture again. Plus today’s Friday, it’s date night for him and his wife so you’re in the clear.” 24 explains.

“Sweet, didn’t want to hit send and then he calls us to do some random reconnaissance in the middle of the day.” Gary huffs, finally sending the message before grinning up at 24, “We’re back in business, dude.”

“You’re not gonna wear your henchman uniform right? Though, she might just think you have a costume kink or something… It could hide your face too if you’re still nervous about that.” 24 points out, the two of them donning their costumes at all times while in the Cocoon.

“God no, I have my normal clothes! Besides, I get to see what she looks like all the time, it’s only fair for me to show what I look like.” Gary admits, having some anxiety about revealing his appearance but he’s certain that your comfort outweighs his discomfort. 

“Who knows, maybe after this private session, she’ll offer for you to come over.. and then you’ll have sex.” 24 says with a grin.

“Oh, don’t get my hopes up! I’m just glad I get another chance at this.” Gary grins, getting up from the chair in his friend’s room, “Well, I’m gonna go get ready, wish me luck!”

“Good luck! Don’t cum too fast, she’ll think it’s super lame!” 24 calls out. 

[macandcheeselover1]

Hi!! Could I request a Hell Park! Gary Harrison or Gregory of Yardale (separate) x reader with a reader who’s an angel?

SUREE!!

GARY, GREGORY X ANGEL READER

GARY

omg two angels?!

ANGEL BUDDIES

He luvs you and your wing color

he finds you as the most perfect being ever

he loves to cup your face and shower it with kisses

CUDDLING>>>

This man will cherish you and the ground you walk on

GREGORY

Demon x angel trope>>

He loves you sm

You're his dimond, his star, his gold

He loves to run his fingers through your wings

PICKING YOU UP>>

He forgets you can walk

cause he loves carrying you

protects you from everything and everyone

(GAHHH WHY CAN'T HE BE REAL)

[invincibies]

THERES A FANDOM FOR THIS GAME I THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO HAVE TO SINGLE HANDEDLY REVIVE THEM ALL

fuck YES.

Jimmy and Gary have a crush on you + their confession

Seperate - SFW - Fluff - Drabble - Choose Your Ending

Jimmy:

Does not plan to confess, just confesses on impulse

He already has some girls after him so he’d distance himself from them to make him seem more appealing

Looks at you until you notice him, then quickly looks away

Does he want you to know he likes you? Yes.

Does he want you to know he likes you? Also no.

Would let his feelings marinate for a while just to be sure

CONFESSION:

The night before he makes sure he’s smelling decent, looking okay and whatnot

Cannot sleep

He hasn’t told anyone

Really afraid you’ll reject him too

C.an barely sleep and if he does he dreams about confessing to you

*so like 7 hour timeskip*

He’s getting ready, making sure he looks his best and whatnot

Def avoids you the first time he sees you bc he freaked out

Also he has a poker face this whole time, like no blush, no embarassed look, nothing

Procrastinating the whole day until it’s the end of the day

Just says fuck it and talks to you in private

“Hey, I like- like you. A lot. So do you want to go somewhere some time???”

If you accept

Honestly surprised

Y’all plan to go to some shitty fast food place after talking

Pretty happy tbh, but still a poker face

If you reject

Oh?

Not surprised but also dissapointed

He tries not to think about it too much but he still has a bug crush for a while

Gary:

He messes with you way more than he used to

Yknow how adults used to say that he’s bullying you because he likes you? Yeah that’s him

If you were already friends he’s more annoying, always trying to hang out or do something together

But if he just like has a brief convo with you and sees you in the halls and stuff he’ll try and talk to you

Like actually respond to him he’s being a pleasant as he can and its really tough on him

CONFESSION

Also cannot sleep but honestly in this situation who could

The day of he tracks you down in the halls and tries to keep up some small talk (it fails)

Just says he likes you in the end lmaoo

“Yknow, you’re really different. I think I’ve taken a liking to you.”

Jk he doesn’t directly say it

But he still talks in his weird dialect

Srsly why does he talk like that 💀💀

if you accept

Happiest he’s been in a while really

Y’all don’t go on a date until like a few months later probs

If you decline

Bro is madddd

Just storms off but now teases you in a mean way instead of a playful one

Looses feelings so fast man it’s not funny

[khioneee]

tap out. pt ii.

warnings. mentions of death, emotional distress, grief and loss, pregnancy.

a few years later, another tap-out ceremony arrives, but this time, the air feels different—heavier, somber. simon’s been gone for over a year, his deployment unexpectedly extended due to an incident overseas. you’d been told he couldn’t come home for a while, but that didn’t make the waiting any easier.

today, you stand among families who aren’t just here to tap out their loved ones but to say goodbye to those who didn’t make it home. tears stream down faces as loved ones gather around caskets, grieving the soldiers they’d lost. the sight fills you with a mix of dread and relief, knowing simon is still out there, waiting.

simon stands in formation, rigid as always, but he has a sense for you. before you even appear in his line of sight, he knows you’re near. but imagine his surprise when he catches a glimpse of you in his peripheral vision, a small bundle wrapped securely in your arms.

his heart hammers in his chest, quickening as he realizes what this means. his breath catches, his eyes fixed on you as you approach. you look up at him, your eyes sparkling, a knowing smile on your face as you watch the subtle changes in his expression—the slight twitch of his eyebrows, the way his breathing picks up as it dawns on him.

both of you had been trying for a baby before he left, and now, standing before him, you hold that precious life in your arms. it had been a struggle going through pregnancy without him, feeling his absence during every kick and every sleepless night. but seeing him now, looking more than ready to meet your child, all the pain fades away, replaced by a joy so profound it fills every inch of you.

‘daddy’s home,’ you whisper softly, tilting the blanket so simon can see her tiny face, fast asleep, a perfect mirror of him in miniature. she’s got his nose, his quiet strength already etched into her tiny features.

with tears in your eyes, you reach up, your hand finding his cheek, tapping him out in the gentlest of touches.

the moment your hand connects, simon moves, breaking formation as he pulls both of you into his arms, holding you close as if he’ll never let go. his voice is thick with emotion, barely a whisper as he murmurs, ‘my loves.’

you knew your husband had a reputation in the military—a man as cold and unyielding as steel, a fortress no one could break. but as he held you and your newborn in his arms, that carefully built facade cracked, revealing a vulnerable side of him that only you ever saw. the tough soldier was gone, replaced by a man whose heart lay entirely with his family.

‘do you want to hold her?’ you ask softly, watching his eyes light up with a blend of surprise and joy.

‘her?’ he whispers, voice catching on the single word, as if it’s almost too much for him to believe.

you nod, smiling through a haze of happy tears. ‘her.’

with slow, reverent movements, you pass your daughter to him, watching as she looks impossibly tiny cradled in his strong arms. simon looks down at her with a mixture of wonder and fierce protectiveness, as though he’s already memorizing every detail of her face.

as if sensing her father’s gaze, the baby yawns, a soft little sound that makes simon’s eyes shine with awe. you catch the faintest smile pulling at his lips, a rare, tender expression that he reserves only for moments like this.

he leans down, pressing his lips gently to her forehead. ‘never gonna let anything happen to you,’ he murmurs, voice thick with love and quiet promise.

while simon was lost in his quiet moment with your daughter, a loud shout cut through the air, breaking the peaceful silence.

‘is that our baby i see?!’

simon’s head snapped up, his expression immediately shifting to something harder. he turned to see soap grinning widely, practically bouncing with excitement. with a sigh, simon reached over and smacked the back of soap’s head, though his movements were careful not to jostle the sleeping baby in his arms.

‘there’s people grieving, you idiot,’ simon muttered, but soap only snickered, completely unfazed.

‘and what do you mean, ‘our’? she’s y/n’s and mine. you’re not part of this relationship, mate,’ simon added, his tone dripping with mock irritation.

but soap, undeterred, just ignored him and held out his hands, wiggling his fingers in a display of exaggerated excitement. ‘oh, come on! let me hold our child!’

simon groaned, looking down at you with a glance that seemed to ask, ‘do i really have to put up with this?’ but he couldn’t hide the tiniest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as soap’s enthusiasm filled the air around you.

reluctantly, and with another sigh, simon finally leaned over, carefully passing your daughter to soap, though not without a low, ‘if you don’t keep her calm, you’re not holding her again.’

soap just grinned, taking her into his arms as if he’d won the lottery, cradling her gently and cooing softly.

soon after, the rest of task force 141 gathered around, drawn by the excitement, each member eager to catch a glimpse of the new addition to the family.

you and simon stood to the side, watching with cautious eyes as they took turns holding her, each one adopting a careful gentleness you wouldn’t have expected from hardened soldiers.

price held her with a proud grin, murmuring something about ‘training her to be the next captain,’ while gaz made her giggle softly with his gentle cooing. even the usually reserved roach softened as he held her, a rare smile tugging at his lips.

you glanced up at simon, watching his face as he stood beside you, arms crossed in a show of casual indifference.

but you knew him too well. beneath the mask of stoicism, there was something warmer, a subtle softness in his gaze as he watched his team, his family, sharing this moment with him. this gruff, unbreakable soldier, who had once thought he’d lost everything, had found a new family among them, one that shared in his joys and sorrows alike.

reaching over, you took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. he didn’t say anything, just gave your hand a quick squeeze in return, a quiet acknowledgment. but you could see it in his eyes, that gratitude for a family he never expected to find—a family that had now become part of yours.

[metallictastinglifesupportliquid]

Roach: Hey, wanna see something funny? Y/N: Um, ok? Roach: Say ow Y/N: Ow? *2 seconds later* Ghost, Price, Gaz, Soap, busting the door down: Y/N? WHAT HAPPENED? ARE YOU HURT? WHO DO WE NEED TO STAB?

[cherie-doll]

I said "do you think you'll kill for me one day?"

(Yes, of course I will, my darling)

― yandere!cod men x reader ― ε price, ghost, soap, gaz, roach, makarov, alejandro, rudy, phillip graves, keegan, könig, horangi, nikto з suggestive?

꒰ ͜ ‿ ͜ ♡ ͜ ‿ ͜ ꒱

ଘ You're no plaything for Price. He doesn't just like you, he adores you. Cups your pretty face in his hands; delicately. His rugged and rough hands become gentle as soon as he comes into contact with your skin, treating it as if it were finely-grained porcelain. He treats you the exact opposite of how he treats anyone else. Whilst he leaves everyone else covered from head to toe in blood for coming near you, you're covered from head to toe in the most expensive items you wish for. But, he doesn't want you to forget that his money doesn't represent his love for you, it does not begin to cover not even half of what it should. He'll be sure to remind you not to be spoiled rotten. He's fond of you and while he's interested in you, you should listen and obey to what he advices you. He is more experienced after all.

ଘ Compare what Simon's scars and bruises are to your unscathed body. Let his hands roam over your body, taking in all he works for. Let them wander and familiarize with what he's toying with. His breath on your skin as it quickens, losing his train of thoughts as he fondles you. He's convinced you're meant only for him. No one else should touch you this way, no one could do it like he does. And please return it! Cradle his head in your lap, so the sizzling subsides and he feels alive. Let him know he's the best, the one. Let him lean in and capture those soft, plump lips in a passionate kiss. Don't pull away, don't deny him his heaven. And don't you dare let anyone else trail your body with their eyes like he does. Why, he'll feel as if they're already doing what their mind desires. He's screwed up in his mind but he'll move heaven and earth for those thighs to wrap around his waist at night spilling the warmth between them. Make him feel warm and welcome, give him the world he burns everyone else for. He sacrifices others at the feet of your altar.

ଘ Johnny's smug smile can fade rather quickly with one sensual move from you, watch him get lost as his breath is winded and his body is overtaken with an all-consuming fire of passion. Oh, he can't even fathom the idea of anyone before or after him experiencing such things. He'll be paralyzed the moment you sit on his lap and putting your hand to his chest, let it trail over his heart which at the moment beats wildly. It's a sensation he experiences when plunging a knife deep within someone else's chest, he reckons the feeling is almost the same. He thinks his victims rather lucky they die this way. How many other people can experience that fleeting, overwhelming feeling?

ଘ Kyle's hand kisses are done with such reverent trembling and respect that he'll have your skin tingling with warm sensations as if the late evening sun was seeping into your skin. Let his and your body blend together like the watercolors on an artist's canvas does. Bask in his affection like you'll sunbathe on the beach. Take in all the good he brings you, accept every touch of his that starts with a secure embrace and ends with the colliding of your bodies. The cold with which he lashes out for others has no place with the gentleness he entreats you with. Keep your eyes on his, locked in his steady gaze immerses himself in fantasies. He feels dizzy as if his world was spinning, losing himself in the sensations. And after the elation, let him shower you in praises, caresses and gifts. Let him buy you two rings for each finger, how many could you want to show off having a caring partner when you slide his card at the register? Make your hands look pretty whilst his are leaving a trail of crimson blood after him.

ଘ Roach couldn't ever hurt anyone else, he didn't know what he was capable of until the importance of you came all too clear. You're something that shouldn't belong to anyone else in the world. It's a quick descent down the spiral of violent devotion. His soft gaze usually filled with admiration and sentiment for you hardens, his pupils dilating as fear takes over. He's only acting on behalf of all his anguish, you haven't the heart to condemn him. He's shown you what your heart is worth, couldn't you give him some sort of heaven? He will do very well at whatever it is you ask of him, just wait while he shows you. There isn't anyone else like him he says over and over as if a prayer or spell he could make come true.

ଘ Makarov does not care whether he deserves you or not. Unlike the others who will commit unspeakable acts out of guilt and use their "pure" intentions to purify their actions, Makarov is selfish and relentless in what he wants. He does not flinch at your attempts of control, it's lost the moment he takes you in. He's determined to taste everything you have to offer, whether it's willingly or not. But he does like things to be served on a platter for him, he also has no problem taking it himself. Let the hand on the back of your neck guide you in the direction you are to walk, be docile and you'll surely receive tenderness. He can never deny that he loves the way your lashes flutter as you look through them up at him as he pats your head for being so good. Overtime you might notice small details showing his exterior cracking and revealing the soft, white underbelly of affection. He feels as if his chest caves in from your actions, the subtle red at the tip of his ears. Keep pulling at his neck collar, he'll like that fake sense of control you have.

ଘ You wouldn't ever catch a glimpse of Alejandro's manipulative strategies until he finds someone threatening. Is it wrong you're not seeing enough of other people? His biggest fear is you falling for someone else, the danger of you getting too close to someone is palpable for him. The intimacy you two share is from the harvest he's worked so hard for. He's been slaving away for so long to just let someone else lay a hand on you. He kneads you into what he desires, anything to feel the beating heart in your chest which pumps only for him. He'll keep polishing you until he gets down to the bare essence of you, which he can only dream to capture. The rhythm he wants to feel rushing through his veins, circling throughout his body.

ଘ Rudy's tenderness blinds you as he takes you to what you can only describe to be paradise. With the shining of luxury, all new and just for you he says. He'll press a million sweet kisses on your face before dropping that a most bothersome person will no longer be graced by your presence ever again. To him it's like a quiet act of love, to you, it's unimaginable. Don't worry your head will all the details, isn't it better to have no worries? He's all smooth indulgence telling you to keep looking at the adorned future he has ahead for you, telling you not to pay attention to the blood that stains the walls of the hallways you walk. He would lay out a new, fancy red carpet over the corpses for you to step over and continue in this fabricated dream.

ଘ Phillip knows exactly how to get the best out of you. Can you blame a man for knowing how to get what he wants from you? Let him tease and tug for he knows what every maneuver of his does. The hands that massage your skin don't get dirty, he'll always have others ready and willing to carry out whatever order he gives. It's what he's accustomed to and how he intends to keep it. But the droplets of blood that splatter do not miss his skin. The stain is still there, still under the skin of the thumb he pushes inside of you, feeling around for that bliss. Let his protectiveness clothe your body, he's already blurring the lines between obsessiveness and possessiveness.

ଘ Keegan's eyes will have you coming to a stumbling halt. Asking for something only you know how to give so good. Those erratic eyes that are unpredictable as they are deep, representing the deep dive you have to be holding your breath for. Are you ready to indulge? Because the impact will have you gasping for air, and when you try to take one you'll only swallow a mouthful of carnal desire. He ignites such a heat it's scalding to the touch, you don't know what's happening it's like you lose control. It happens so fast that when it's all over you'll let his lips, from which hot breaths slip through, kiss all over your sweat glistened body. His eyes might be softer and hold it for a while until he's back to the merciless, cold gaze which freezes everyone's else blood, feeling it lump within their veins.

ଘ Let König go on his fast rampages. They're over quick anyways. And afterwards, when he comes back, cradle his head between your thighs his tongue tangling as he stutters out promises to buy you what you wish if only you let him lap at your sweetness until his thoughts are left to reckless abandonment. Let him get what he can't get anywhere else. Call him handsome as your bury your fingers into his hair, your fingertips trailing his jaw and down his neck to where his adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard. Place kisses on his cheek until he turns his head in one swift motion and captures your lips in a desperate kiss. He wants it all, wants all of you all at once it makes him messy, shaky and weak. But he just wants someone to hold him, rubbing his ears and whispering words of affirmation in his ear.

ଘ Horangi could care less what other's want from him. You're in his viewpoint and he's determined to apply as much pressure as possible to make you bend. The reason he justifies himself with is the lullaby he's lulled to sleep with. Everyone else wants something from him, why shouldn't you? Everyone else is just in the way, he says over and over again, trying to make you focus on his lips instead of the bodies on the floor. With what he's done, he expects a standing ovation from you, nothing but complete adoration and servitude. He's a man who chases after impulses, who knows how long until this candle runs out. For now, ignore the brusque hand and acknowledge the underlying intents. He'll keep this lecherous momentum going until you're feeling faint from the mere touch of his hand.

ଘ Resignation is a trait Nikto works hard to work out of you. Surely, you ought to trust him after all he's done for you. In his mind, he's dedicated such gentle caring to you, you should be grateful. Don't be afraid to take directly out of his hand, he prefers you lose that skepticism. And when you do start to gentle, oh he can never get enough of it. His fingers grazing and gliding over your body at any and every chance he can get. Let him delve deeper into you, it's only natural for him to want to know you better. Every quiver of yours, he feels through the epidermis of his skin. He just knows you that well. His jerking movements shouldn't startle you by now. Maybe if you were more open, you would be telling him what you want. Give him some sort of sign before that spark ignites an unyielding fire. Because to him, that trembling is a sign of a smoldering fierceness waiting to break through.

:¨ ·.· ¨: `· . ꔫ

[leyavo]

Omega!reader that rejects every bond that any superior offers.

You don’t speak much, that the Alpha’s and Beta’s that have asked you to join them think you only know how to say no.

So when Roach comes along and doesn’t force a conversation to hear you talk, you can’t help but be drawn to him.

Price watches the two of you go about your days in silence. Subtle hints that you are comfortable around the Beta, Roach. Your elbow brushing his, knee touching his thigh as you sit next to him on the sofa in the rec room.

How you lift your gaze each time Roach enters the armoury, where you work. Slight nod of your head as you offer a nonverbal good morning.

The way you sit with him in the canteen, nothing but the sound of your forks scraping the trays. How you trade food that you don’t like and go back for seconds when it’s not busy.

Each time they return from an op Roach searches for you, his boots no longer heavy and dragging along the floor. No, he just needs to see you, feel your presence not your voice.

Your scent merging with Roach’s that Price asks you if you’d like to join their pack. He’s seen the positive impact you have on each other.

And Roach doesn’t complain when he finally hears your soft breathy voice.

“Yes, Alpha.”

[oaksgrove]

hiiii! i just read your passenger princess fic, and i got an idea.

what about a reader who isn’t used to princess treatment?

opening a car door? john, why are you doing that? I can do it just fine.

gaz, why is there a dress in the bedroom? you bought it for me because we’re going on a date? why though? I’ve got plenty of dresses.

johnny, whats with the new flowers? they’re for me? why though?

simon, you don’t have to tell me ‘i’m beautiful’. it takes away from time you could be doing something important.

just ‘I know you can do it, but let me’ vibes

Princess Treatment

pairing: John Price x Reader; Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x Reader; Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader; Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x Reader; Gary “Roach” Sanderson x Reader.

synopsis: You’re strong. Capable. Fiercely independent. And yet… your boyfriend seems determined to treat you like royalty—each in their own uniquely over-the-top way. Maybe “princess treatment” isn’t about weakness—it’s about being chosen, cherished, and loved without condition.

warning: Pure fluff, soft domestic moments, mild language, emotional vulnerability, excessive acts of service, unapologetic simping.

word count: 2018

John Price:

The click of the car unlocking was almost instant the moment you stepped outside. The cold nipped at your nose, the evening breeze catching the hem of your coat as you moved toward the passenger side.

Before your hand could even brush the door handle, John was there. Rounding the hood of the car in a few easy strides, one hand already reaching out, the other tucked into the pocket of his coat like he had all the time in the world.

“John,” you said, brows lifting, “why are you doing that? I can do it just fine.”

His hand paused mid-motion for a second, but he didn’t falter. Instead, he just smirked—warm, amused, a touch of mischief glinting behind his eyes.

“You can,” he agreed, pulling the door open for you with a little flourish. “But you don’t have to. Let me.”

You blinked, thrown off by the softness of it. Like it wasn’t a gesture he was performing for show, but something as natural to him as breathing.

Still, your feet hesitated, and John tilted his head, giving you a look like, Are we going to do this dance every time?

With a sigh, you slid into the seat, settling in as he closed the door behind you with careful gentleness. The quiet click of it felt… final. Intentional.

By the time he circled back around and dropped into the driver’s seat beside you, you were still frowning slightly, staring straight ahead.

He noticed, of course. John always noticed.

“You gonna argue every time I treat you well?” he asked lowly, voice dipping into that rough warmth that always seemed to unspool your defenses. His hand reached across the console, fingers sliding over your thigh and giving it a slow, grounding squeeze.

“…Maybe,” you muttered, too honest for your own good.

John chuckled, low and fond. “I’ll just have to keep convincing you, then.”

You turned to look at him. That scruffy face, the weathered lines that had deepened with age and war and laughter, the eyes that had always been more patient than you thought they’d be.

“Is this a campaign now?”

“It’s always been one,” he said. “You just didn’t notice.”

The drive started in silence, but it was the kind that felt like something blooming between you rather than anything heavy. His hand stayed on your thigh, thumb brushing lazy, soothing arcs.

And when he parked and jogged around the front of the car again to open your door before you could even unbuckle your seatbelt, you didn’t argue this time.

You just let him.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick:

You almost missed it when you walked into the bedroom—distracted by the lingering emails in your head, the mental list of things you still needed to get done, the ache in your shoulders from a day that just wouldn’t quit. But there it was.

Laid neatly across the duvet.

A dress.

Deep red. Silky soft, with a gentle shimmer that caught the fading evening light from the window. Elegant, understated, yet somehow—it made your chest flutter. The tag was still attached, dangling loosely at the neck, but the price had been carefully removed.

Your brows furrowed.

“Kyle?” you called out, voice echoing down the hallway. “Why is there a dress in the bedroom?”

A familiar pair of footsteps padded closer, slow and smug in their rhythm.

He appeared at the doorframe, shoulder leaned lazily against the wood, arms crossed, that mischievous grin tugging at his lips like he’d just played the winning hand.

“Bought it for you,” he said simply. “We’ve got a dinner reservation. Something fancy. You deserve a night out.”

You blinked at him, then looked back at the dress. Then back at him.

“But why?” you asked. “I’ve got plenty of dresses—”

“Yeah,” he interrupted gently, pushing off from the door and walking toward you. “But this one’s from me.”

His hand reached out, fingertips brushing the hair from your cheek, tucking it behind your ear with all the reverence in the world.

“And I like the idea of seeing you in it.”

You opened your mouth, maybe to argue, maybe to protest that you didn’t need a dress to feel beautiful or cared for—but the words didn’t come. Not when he looked at you like that. Not when his hand lingered just a second longer than needed, warm and grounding against your skin.

He leaned in and kissed your forehead, soft and slow, and you felt it ripple through your bones—the kind of affection that didn’t ask anything from you. Just wanted to give.

“Let me spoil you a bit, love,” he murmured, forehead pressed to yours. “You do everything for everyone else.”

Your fingers found his shirt, curling gently at the hem. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

He chuckled, arms slipping around your waist, pulling you into the warmth of him. “Only if they’re happy tears. Otherwise, I’ll return the dress and take you out in your pajamas instead.”

You laughed against his chest, and when he kissed your temple again, you let yourself sink into him.

“Okay,” you whispered. “Dinner sounds nice.”

And in the mirror, later that evening, when you finally slipped into that deep red dress, you saw it—the soft smile on your face. The kind you hadn’t worn in a while.

Kyle noticed it too, when you walked out.

“That’s my girl,” he said, eyes drinking you in like it was the first time.

And for once, you didn’t deflect. You just smiled and let him take your hand.

Simon “Ghost” Riley:

The bathroom was quiet, except for the muted hum of the fan and the soft rhythmic motion of your toothbrush. It was a routine, grounding in its predictability—just one more box to tick off before bed. The lights were low, casting gentle shadows on the tile floor, and your shoulders were heavy with the quiet kind of tired that came after a long day.

You didn’t even notice him at first—Simon moved like a ghost, even out of uniform—but then you felt his presence behind you, the warm brush of air when he passed close.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, voice low and steady like a secret.

You paused mid-brush, blinking at your reflection.

A moment passed.

You leaned over the sink, spit into it, rinsed. Stared at yourself in the mirror and frowned.

“You don’t have to tell me that,” you said, not unkindly—just quiet, blunt, the way truths sometimes fall when you’re too tired to dress them up. “It takes away from time you could be doing something important.”

Behind you, Simon stilled.

The weight of silence fell over the room like a thick blanket.

Then, slowly, he stepped forward.

You watched him in the mirror as he came up behind you—broad frame solid and warm, his expression unreadable but not cold. He didn’t touch you, not yet, just looked at your reflection like he was trying to figure out how to hold something fragile.

“You are important,” he said softly. “This is important.”

Your fingers tightened around the toothbrush. The words hung there, heavy and simple.

You didn’t know what to say to that.

Maybe he didn’t expect you to say anything. Maybe he just knew how easy it was for your mind to convince you that affection was indulgence, that love had to be earned by usefulness. You stared at your reflection, trying to see what he saw. Wondering if you ever would.

He leaned down, finally, and pressed a kiss to your shoulder. Warm. Present. Gentle in the way you weren’t used to being handled.

“If I only ever did things that were necessary,” he murmured, lips brushing your skin, “I’d have missed the best part of my life.”

You glanced up, your eyes meeting his in the mirror.

“You.”

Your heart cracked a little in your chest—just enough to let the warmth through.

And maybe you didn’t quite believe him yet. Maybe it would take time, soft moments like this, repeated and repeated until the walls inside you gave in.

But you leaned back into him, just a little. Let him take the toothbrush from your hand and set it gently down.

Let yourself be held.

Because if Simon—quiet, careful Simon—could learn to make space for softness… maybe you could, too.

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish:

You blinked as you walked into the kitchen, still rubbing the sleep from your eyes, your socks quiet against the old tile floor.

There they were.

A new bouquet.

Sunflowers—bright and unapologetic in their joy—mixed with tiny white blossoms you couldn’t name, all tucked into a mason jar sitting square in the middle of the kitchen table. A ribbon tied lazily around the rim. Water droplets still clinging to the stems.

You stared.

Then turned slowly, already knowing who to blame.

“Johnny…” you started, voice laced with the kind of sleepy bewilderment that only came from early mornings and too many small surprises. “What’s with the new flowers?”

He was leaning against the counter, orange juice in hand, hair still damp from the shower, and a lazy smile already tugging at his mouth like he’d been waiting for this exact moment.

“They’re for you,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You squinted at him. “But… why though?”

Johnny chuckled, a soft sound that started in his chest and reached all the way to his eyes. He crossed the room in a few easy steps, set the glass down, and wrapped his arms around you from behind.

Your back met the warmth of his chest, and you sighed as he tucked his chin over your shoulder, his breath brushing your cheek.

“‘Cause your face lights up every time you see them,” he said, voice lower now, a little rough with sleep, a little tender with love. “And that? That’s worth the trip to the florist every bloody day.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment. Just stood there with him wrapped around you like a warm blanket, staring at the ridiculous jar of flowers like it was the most confusing, most beautiful thing in the world.

Then, softly, you pressed your face into his chest.

“Stop being cute,” you mumbled, muffled by the cotton of his shirt and the beat of his heart.

“Never,” he whispered against your temple, grinning. “You’re stuck with me.”

And you didn’t need to say it—but God, you were so glad you were.

Gary “Roach” Sanderson:

The kitchen smelled like garlic and thyme and something buttery-soft that had your stomach growling before you’d even crossed the threshold.

You padded in barefoot, hair tied up, sleeves rolled, fully prepared to take over and help—only to find Gary already elbow-deep in culinary excellence. A dishtowel slung over his shoulder, a pan sizzling on the stove, and that familiar hum vibrating in his chest as he stirred something with purpose.

“Smells amazing,” you murmured, reaching for the pot on instinct. “I’ll stir—”

“Nope.”

He gently nudged your hand away with the back of the spoon, not even looking up.

“Gary,” you huffed. “I can cook. You don’t have to—”

He finally turned his head and grinned, that boyish, crooked smile that always made you want to roll your eyes and kiss him in the same breath. He tapped the spoon lightly against your hand, playful but firm.

“I know you can do it,” he said with a wink. “But let me. Just this once.”

You narrowed your eyes, skeptical. “Is this one of your weird love languages?”

He shrugged, already back to stirring, back to humming. “Yeah. Feeding you until you admit I’m amazing.”

You watched him for a beat—watched the way he moved around the kitchen with that easy confidence, sleeves pushed up, forearm flexing as he tossed something into a pan, barefoot and casual like he belonged there, like this was his second skin.

The music playing low from his speaker was jazzy, mellow. The light from the kitchen window painted everything gold. The whole room smelled like something slow-cooked and careful. Like comfort.

With a sigh, you pulled out a chair and sat down, elbows on the table, chin resting in your palm as you watched him. “I’m not gonna admit it.”

“You will,” he said cheerfully, plating the food like you were a food critic instead of his tired partner who hadn’t eaten a real meal all day. “Eventually. When you taste this.”

When he set the plate in front of you—steaming, beautiful, perfectly balanced—your stomach growled audibly.

Gary smirked. “Told you.”

You took one bite, and your eyes fluttered shut. “Damn it.”

“Told you,” he laughed, leaning down to kiss your temple, brushing a hand over your shoulder. “Come on. Let me take care of you tonight.”

You looked up at him, heart swelling. “Just tonight?”

He raised a brow. “What, you planning on arguing with your private chef every night?”

You smiled into your fork, cheeks warm. “Maybe.”

He slid into the seat across from you, mirroring your grin. “Then I’ll just keep winning.”

And the kitchen stayed warm, full of the scent of love and butter, and the quiet sound of laughter between bites.

taglist: @honestlymassivetrash @pythonmoth @kittygonap @rainyjellybear @anonymouse1807 @twoandahalfdimes

[happy74827]

Talk To Me

[Eggsy Unwin x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: With your boyfriend sneaking out 24/7 and always returning with carefully concealed injuries, it's only natural to be concerned.

WC: 3033

Category: Slight Angst + Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

I watched Carry-On last night (10/10 so good), and it got me re-thinking about one of my favorite films. Kingsman supremacy 🙌

『••✎••』

You loved Eggsy. Dearly. Truly.

You loved him so much that sometimes it scared you. How fiercely your heart clung to his smile, how tenderly your hands always seemed to reach for his, how naturally your entire world had shifted around him without you even realizing it. He was yours—scruffy, sweet Eggsy Unwin—and you believed you knew him. At least, you thought you did.

But then, the nights started.

At first, you didn’t think much of it. Everyone had their own struggles, and Eggsy never struck you as someone who’d open up easily about his. He’d always been the type to handle his own problems, to wear his hardships like armor rather than show them. But that was before the late-night disappearances, before the quiet footsteps across your floorboards, before you’d wake up in a cold bed at 3 a.m. to find him gone.

It didn’t happen all at once. It was gradual—so gradual you could almost convince yourself you were imagining it. One night turned into two. Two turned into a week. And before long, you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

The first time you tried to confront him, you did it gently. You’d asked him if everything was okay, masking your concern with casual curiosity. "You seem really tired lately, Eggsy. Is work being a pain?"

Eggsy had smiled, all teeth and dimples, and said, "Nah, luv. Just gotta lot on my plate, s’all."

You believed him because you wanted to.

But then there were the bruises.

The first one you noticed was along his jaw, faint and shadowed under the soft light of your kitchen. He’d winced when you kissed him there, just a tiny twitch of his lips, but enough to make you pull back. "You alright?" you’d asked.

Eggsy had waved you off. "Yeah, yeah, fine."

"Fine."

The word had felt too tight on his tongue, too forced. But you’d let it go because that’s what you did when someone you loved was hurting. You gave them space.

Except the bruises kept coming, each one a little harder to miss than the last. The faint cut above his brow, the stiffness in his shoulders when you hugged him, the way he’d flinch—just barely—when your fingers brushed against his ribs. And you noticed. Of course, you did. How could you not?

There was the other stuff, too. The sudden shift in his wardrobe. Gone were the trainers and bomber jackets, replaced with sharp suits and polished shoes. He’d started wearing glasses—ridiculous little round things that didn’t even have a prescription—and he carried himself differently now. Straighter. More serious. It wasn’t that you didn’t like the change. You did. Eggsy looked good in a suit, and you’d told him as much. But it was the why that lingered in the back of your mind.

Everything about him was changing, and yet you were still supposed to believe he was fine.

You weren’t stupid.

And so tonight, when you’d felt him slip out of bed yet again, something inside you had snapped. Enough was enough.

You stayed awake, feigning sleep as you listened to him shuffle around the room. You heard the soft clink of his belt buckle, the muted sound of a zipper, and then the quiet groan he let out as he bent to tie his shoes. He was trying to be quiet, but you could feel his movements, his tension, the exhaustion radiating off of him like smoke.

The front door closed behind him.

For a moment, you thought about following him. Your mind painted a dozen possibilities—none of them good—and the urge to know was almost overwhelming. But something held you back. Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was the sick feeling that if you saw what Eggsy was hiding, you wouldn’t be able to unsee it.

So, instead, you stayed. You waited.

And you waited.

Hours slipped by, the quiet hum of the room punctuated only by the ticking of the clock and the occasional thump of your restless heartbeat. You sat in the darkness, curled up on the couch with nothing but your thoughts to keep you company.

It was almost dawn when you heard it—the sound of keys fumbling at the door.

Your breath caught as the door swung open, and there he was. Eggsy. Exhausted, disheveled, and dragging himself inside like he’d just run a marathon. He tripped over the shoes you’d left by the door, letting out a hushed curse as he stumbled and caught himself on the wall. "For fuck’s sake…"

You watched him for a long moment, your heart twisting. His shoulders were slumped, his face pale under the bruises, and there was an air of defeat clinging to him that you’d never seen before.

Your hand hovered over the lamp beside you.

Click.

Light flooded the room.

Eggsy froze. His wide, tired eyes met yours, and for a second, neither of you said anything.

"…Where were you?"

Your voice came out steady—colder than you intended—but you didn’t care. You needed answers.

Eggsy straightened up, wincing slightly as he did, and ran a hand through his messy hair. "What’re you doin’ awake?"

"Where were you, Eggsy?" you repeated, softer this time.

He opened his mouth to answer, but you saw the hesitation in his eyes. That flicker of guilt, of indecision. And it hurt.

You watched him—really watched him—take in the situation, his gaze darting from you to the lamp and back again. He looked so tired, the dark circles under his eyes stark against the pale exhaustion in his face. His bottom lip pulled tight between his teeth, and for a fleeting moment, you thought he might lie to you.

He always did that when he was nervous, chewing his lip like he was trying to hold the words inside.

And then he sighed.

"Look, luv—"

"No." You cut him off, surprising even yourself with the sharpness in your voice. Your heart was pounding now, a steady thud in your chest, and you swallowed the knot rising in your throat. "Don’t 'look, love' me, Eggsy. I’ve given you space. I’ve ignored the bruises. I’ve let you—whatever this is—carry on without question. But not anymore."

Eggsy’s mouth closed. He shifted on his feet, his wince almost imperceptible, but you caught it. You always caught it.

"Are you hurt?" you asked, voice trembling slightly despite the resolve you tried to hold. Your eyes dropped to the faint, bloodied scrape on his knuckles and the stiff way he held his side. "Jesus, Eggsy…"

"I’m fine." The words came out fast—too fast—and though they were meant to be firm, they only sounded hollow.

You flinched like the word was a slap. "You’re not fine."

He sighed again, this time deeper, and rubbed a hand over his face. "It’s complicated."

"Complicated?" you echoed, your voice pitching with disbelief. "Complicated is when you forget an anniversary or don’t know how to split rent. This isn’t complicated, Eggsy—this is you sneaking out in the middle of the night and coming home bruised and battered, and I’m scared."

There it was. The confession you’d been holding back. The thing that had been gnawing at you for weeks, clawing at your chest every time he slipped away. Your voice broke slightly, the words tumbling out like a dam had burst, and Eggsy’s face softened in a way that almost broke you.

You could see the guilt then, raw and unguarded, etched into the lines of his expression. He took a cautious step forward, but you held up a hand, needing the space to breathe.

"Do you…" Your voice faltered. You didn’t want to say it—didn’t want to voice the fear that had whispered in your mind during the loneliest hours of those nights. “Do you not trust me, Eggsy? Is there something you can’t tell me?”

Eggsy’s head snapped up at that, his brow knitting as if you’d insulted him. "What? No. No, it’s not like that."

"Then what is it?" Your voice cracked, and for the first time since this all started, you felt your eyes sting with tears. "Because I’m running out of scenarios, Eggsy. I thought maybe… maybe it was someone else, maybe you’d stopped loving me. But then I’d see the bruises, and I’d hear you groaning in your sleep, and…" You trailed off, pressing a hand to your forehead. "I can’t keep pretending everything’s fine when you’re falling apart right in front of me."

The room was silent save for your quiet, unsteady breaths. For a moment, you thought Eggsy wouldn’t answer, that he’d slip into that shell of his again and leave you stranded in this mess of unanswered questions.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he crossed the room in two quick strides, cupped your face in his hands, and kissed you.

It wasn’t a soft kiss—not like the ones he’d give you after long days or lazy mornings. It was desperate and grounding, like he needed to make sure you were real and that you still loved him despite everything. You froze for half a second, caught off guard by the sudden warmth of his lips on yours before you melted into it. Your hands gripped his wrists, holding onto him like an anchor as your heart hammered against your ribcage.

When he finally pulled away, you stared at him, breathless and reeling.

"Eggsy—"

"I’m sorry," he muttered, his forehead resting gently against yours. "I didn’t… I didn’t mean to make you think that. Any of that." His voice was low and earnest, the accent softening as the words spilled out. "You’re the only good thing in my life, alright? The only thing that keeps me goin’. It ain’t you—it’s me. I’m just… I’m tryin’ to keep you safe."

"Safe?" Your brows furrowed as you leaned back to look at him. "Safe from what, Eggsy?"

He hesitated. You could see the war playing out in his eyes—the push and pull of wanting to tell you the truth but still trying to protect you from it. He was holding something back; you knew that much. Something big.

Finally, he exhaled slowly. "It’s work. The bruises, the nights—I can’t tell you everything, but you gotta trust me when I say I’m doin’ it for you. For us."

"Eggsy…"

His thumb brushed along your cheek, and you realized then that you were crying—just a little.

"You’re right," he admitted softly, the words heavy with guilt. "I shoulda told you somethin’. Not everythin’, but… somethin’. I just didn’t want you to worry, love. Didn’t want you to see this part o’ me." He smiled faintly, the corners of his lips tilting upward. "You deserve better than this mess."

You stared at him, the boy who had somehow become a man without you noticing. His rough edges were still there—still scrappy, still stubborn—but there was something more now, too. He carried weight on his shoulders, weight he hadn’t let you see until tonight.

"I don’t care about the mess," you whispered, your hands sliding down to hold his. "I care about you. And if you’re hurting, I want to know. I want to help."

Eggsy blinked at you like he wasn’t sure he deserved to hear that. Then he pulled you into his arms, wrapping you up tightly as if trying to shield you from the rest of the world.

"You’re mental, you know that?" he mumbled into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. "Too good for me, you are."

Eggsy was warm against you, his arms solid and grounding, but you couldn’t let yourself melt into it—not entirely. Not when you could still feel the lingering tremor in his body, the careful way he was holding you like he was afraid of falling apart completely if he let go.

So you didn’t let it slide. Not this time.

You pulled back slightly, enough to look at him, your hands sliding to rest against his chest. He avoided your eyes for a beat too long, gaze flicking toward the floor as if the answers to all of your questions were scattered across the floorboards.

"Eggsy," you said softly, forcing him to look at you. "You’re doing it again."

His brows furrowed slightly. "Doin’ what?"

"Avoiding." You swallowed hard, your voice gentle but firm. "You keep saying you’re trying to protect me, but from what? From you? From whatever it is you’ve gotten yourself into? I can’t keep pretending I’m okay with half-truths and cryptic excuses."

He didn’t answer. His jaw clenched, his lips pressing into a tight line as the silence stretched between you like a taut wire. You watched him, the Eggsy you knew—the one who laughed too loudly, who lit up rooms with his smile—hidden behind this new, heavier version of himself. A man weighed down by secrets you weren’t allowed to touch.

You felt your throat tighten. "If you’re in trouble, I need to know."

"I’m not—"

"Gary." You said his name softly, but with enough weight that he stopped, his shoulders sagging just a little under your gaze. You could see the walls going back up, the way his expression started to close off again, and your heart ached. This wasn’t about control. It wasn’t about digging into things he didn’t want to share. This was about him—the man you loved. The man standing in front of you with bruises and exhaustion, painting him in shades of worry and pain you didn’t recognize.

"I love you," you whispered, the words breaking through the quiet. His head snapped up, his eyes finally locking onto yours. "I love you, Eggsy. But this—" you gestured gently between the two of you "—this isn’t fair. You don’t get to shoulder all of this alone. Not when I’m right here."

You could see the cracks in his resolve then, the guilt splintering through his expression like fractures in glass. Eggsy exhaled, a heavy breath that deflated his entire posture, and he reached up to cup your cheek again, his thumb brushing faintly at the tears still lingering there.

"It ain’t trouble," he muttered after a long pause, his voice low and rough like gravel. "Not like you’re thinkin’. I ain’t into anythin’ shady, I swear."

"Then what is it?" you asked softly. "Please, Eggsy. I’m not leaving. I’m not running. I just need to know what’s doing this to you."

He hesitated again, clearly grappling with something you couldn’t see. For the briefest moment, you thought he might tell you—might rip off the Band-Aid and let you into whatever world he’d been keeping you out of. But then, as if on instinct, he sighed and shook his head, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before resting his own against it again.

"You don’t wanna know, luv," he murmured, voice so soft it nearly disappeared into the space between you. "I promise you don’t."

You stared at him, your heart twisting painfully. You could feel it now—the invisible door he was trying to close, to lock between you—and the worst part was, you knew he thought he was doing the right thing. He thought he was protecting you.

But all you felt was the sting of being shut out.

"This isn’t fair," you said again, your voice trembling slightly. "You don’t get to decide what I can and can’t handle, Eggsy."

His lips parted slightly, and for once, he didn’t have a rebuttal. He just looked at you—really looked at you—as if weighing the woman in front of him against whatever dark reality he’d been hiding.

"I can handle it," you pressed, your voice steady this time. "Whatever it is, I can handle it. I can handle you."

Eggsy pulled back slightly, his hands slipping to your shoulders. There was a flicker of conflict in his eyes, and for the first time that night, you saw a hint of vulnerability beneath the surface. "It ain’t about you not bein’ strong enough," he said finally, his words slow and deliberate. "It’s about me not wantin’ you to see the worst parts of what I do."

"What you do?" you repeated carefully, and you saw him flinch—just barely—like he’d said too much.

"Eggsy, I don’t…"

He let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his messy hair. "Jesus Christ, I’m shite at this."

Your eyes searched his. Part of you wanted to press further—to keep pushing until the dam broke—but the other part could see his exhaustion, the way he was leaning slightly against the counter like his legs were struggling to hold him up. He looked so tired. So defeated. And you hated it.

You let out a soft sigh, taking his hand and lacing your fingers through his.

He stiffened.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. There was a question lingering between you, the same one you knew he was struggling to answer.

Tell her.

Don't.

It felt like an eternity had passed when you finally said his name, squeezing his hand gently.

His gaze lifted to yours.

And you let it go.

You didn't push. You didn't demand. You didn't ask. Because this wasn't a fight, you were going to win.

He wasn't ready.

So, instead, you just said, "Promise me something."

"Yeah?"

You hesitated, the words feeling heavier on your tongue than they had any right to be. You swallowed the lump rising in your throat and whispered, "Promise me you’ll come home."

Eggsy stilled.

It wasn't much of a request—more of a desperate hope that this wasn't all leading to some unavoidable ending you weren't ready for. It was an offer of surrender. A silent, exhausted plea to put the pieces back together, to stitch up the cracks before they could break.

He studied you, his tired eyes roaming over the lines of your face as if he could read the question lingering there.

And then he pulled you into his arms, a hand cradling the back of your head. You felt the warmth of his embrace, the weight of his body against yours, and your arms wrapped around him as tightly as you could. For a second, you weren’t sure if he would answer. If he even could.

And then, in the softest voice you'd ever heard, he whispered, "Always."

"For you, always."

[mushroom-words]

Pest Control || Poly!WolfStar

Fandom: Harry Potter (Marauders)

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader x Sirius Black

Words: 1085

Notes: So I’m not too sure how I feel about this. It’s my first time actually writing this pairing, and I really wanna explore it more, but it’s been difficult for me to come up with any ideas. I just kind of wrote whatever came to me as I went. And I know the formatting is off, I’ll fix it when I get on my computer.

Warnings: Dom/Sub elements. Pet names. Nothing explicit or adult.

Summary: Giving Sirius a flea bath is always interesting.

“SIRIUS, FOR THE love of Merlin—”

An aggravated sigh pushed past your lips as you kicked the door shut with your foot. You reached behind you to twist the lock into place, never taking your narrowed eyes from the large black dog raising his hackles at you. Pathetic grumbles flew towards you as he stood his ground.

You huffed and pushed your hair from your face. “Must we go through this every bloody time?” you complained, popping your hands onto your hips as you leveled him with a stern gaze, all traces of amusement wiped from your expression. “Maybe if you stopped tracking in fleas, we wouldn’t have to do this, would we?”

Sirius gave you a reproachful look as he grunted unhappily.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to discover a flea or two in your home. Between Sirius running around in his Animagus form and Remus shifting every full moon, you expected there to be a couple of the pests every now and then. You proactively treated the entire house once a month just to keep an infestation at bay. Remus was mindful to clean himself thoroughly whenever one was found just in case it had come from him. Sirius would much rather suffer with the incessant biting and itching in silence before submitting to a bath.

You never understood why he hated the flea baths so much or why he wouldn’t just take the appropriate measures to avoid needing one in the first place.

“You wanna wait for Rem to come home and take care of you himself?” You raised a brow, challenging the Animagus.

He whined, lowering himself onto his haunches.

“That’s what I thought. Now please get in the sodding bath, you mutt.”

Sirius grumbled at you but reluctantly jumped into the warm water. You rolled your eyes and kneeled beside the tub, deftly wetting his fur and lathering him in the flea shampoo. He continued to huff and whine even as you made sure to rub him down with a gentle massage, working the shampoo into his fur and picking out the parasites that emerged.

“I don’t know why you always have to make this so bloody difficult,” you muttered.

He whimpered at your words and turned to drag his wet tongue across your face. You jerked away from the touch with a breathless chuckle, shaking your head fondly at the apology in the movement.

“Okay, okay. Just stay still and let me finish, yeah?”

Sirius sat obediently as you rinsed off the shampoo, chuffing when you finally turned off the faucet and announced you were done. You reached over for the towel to help him get dry when he jumped to his feet and shook himself off. Water sprayed everywhere.

“Sirius!” You shielded your face from the droplets, not able to help your small giggle when he barked happily, his tail wagging. “Okay, fine. Dry yourself off then. Come out when you’re done,” you said.

Leaving the towel for him to use, you left the bathroom, knowing he would walk out on two legs in just a couple of moments. You picked at your wet clothes a bit unhappily but couldn’t find it in you to be too annoyed now that it was finally done.

The front door clicked open and shut from down the hall. A relieved sigh pushed past your lips as you moved to the foyer to greet your other boyfriend.

Remus smiled when he saw you and pulled you in for a sweet kiss that had you melting into him. He raised a brow as he looked over your wet clothes and mussed hair. “What’ve you been up to, dovey?”

“Siri had fleas.”

“Again?”

You hummed, closing your eyes to savor the feeling of his arms coming around you. His hand flattened against your spine to hold you to him, thumb caressing your skin over the back of your shirt.

Always one to know when to make an entrance, your boyfriend sauntered down the hall with the towel hanging around his hips. His hair was damp as it slung around his face. He smirked.

“Telling on me already, sweetheart?” he teased, pausing briefly to give Remus a chaste kiss above your head.

Remus hummed softly. “Did you give our sweet girl a hard time, Pads?”

“No more than usual,” he grinned, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You rolled your eyes at him but let him tug you closer to him. “Drew quite the attitude from her though.”

“Is that so?” Remus lifted a brow as he looked at you.

Heat immediately rushed to your face. “That doesn’t count!” you whined. “You were being mean!”

“Called me a mutt and everything,” Sirius continued, squeezing your side lightly.

“Wha— c’mon, that’s not fair! You were being ridiculous!” You turned your gaze to Remus, pleading with him silently.

His warm gaze studied you for a second, taking in your flushed expression and rounded eyes. He then flicked his eyes back up to Sirius. The two of them seemed to communicate with only their eyes. You shifted on your feet, fighting the urge to bring your thumbnail to your mouth.

Finally Remus smiled. “We’ll discuss it later,” he decided. “Let’s have some dinner first, yeah?”

“But—”

Your protest was cut off when Sirius grabbed your cheeks, fingers gently squeezing them together to pucker your lips. “Ah ah. You heard him, bunny,” he teased. “After dinner.”

A strangled whine crept up your throat. “Not fair,” you huffed, words slurred due to your cheeks still being pinched together. “Didn’t even do anything… Mean.”

Remus leveled you with a look that had your heart fluttering inside your chest. “Stop whining, dove. We’ll talk about it after we eat, okay?”

You deflated, body sagging against Sirius, whose chest vibrated lowly with his soft chuckle. “‘Kay,” you agreed quietly, knowing arguing right now wouldn’t turn out in your favor.

“Good. I love you.” He kissed your forehead tenderly.

“Love you.” He brushed past you after exchanging the same sentiment with your other boyfriend and wandered further into the hall, more than likely headed to dress into more comfortable clothes.

Sirius finally released you, turning you to face him. His thumb immediately found your bottom lip. “Poor bunny,” he mocked playfully.

You huffed at him. “Mean,” you repeated, lip pushing against his thumb in a pout.

He slanted his mouth over yours for a soft kiss. “Keep it up, sweetheart,” he said, eyes glimmering in entertainment, “and we’ll show you mean.”

[that-one-fangirl69]

if you ever see me reblog your fic twice, no you didnt. ignore the first one. i was just saving it for later. either as a lil snack or i wasnt ready for a full meal at the time

[viceroywrites]

meeting ms. fischer (drabble)

[gary/21 x gn!reader]

[very loosely tied to my gary fic but can be read separately]

[you & gary started dating during blue morpho arc & went to hs together at one point]

[i gave gary's mom a random name since she isn't named in show]

i've been sitting on this drabble for the last three months and decided to post it cause why not. enjoy!

-

“If she makes you uncomfortable at all, you say the word and we’re out of there!” Gary says firmly, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as you both pull into a residential area, having left the bustling city to a smaller suburban neighborhood.

“Gary, I’m sure it’ll be fine, it’s meeting your mom for heaven’s sake, not a Guild interrogation.” You chuckle, reaching over to place a soothing hand on Gary’s thigh and squeezing gently.

“I’ll take scaphism over this, any day.” Gary groans as he pulls into the driveway, glancing over at you, “You sure you want to do this? Because once you’re in there, my mom will talk your ear off, keep you prisoner.”

“Positive. Now let’s go.” You say with a grin and Gary sighs, unbuckling his seatbelt as he begrudgingly gets out of the car and unlocks the front door to his childhood home.

Being caught up in all the Blue Morpho drama when you first started dating, you and Gary both realized over dinner one night that he hadn’t let his mom know that he was dating let alone now had a significant other.

Needless to say, the moment he called her to let her know, she demanded that she needed to meet you as soon as possible.

An tan, energetic dog comes dashing towards the doorway the second Gary opens the door, immediately jumping on you with its tail wagging happily.

“Oh my god, Lady, no! Mooom, call the dog!” Gary yells out, gently tugging on the dog’s collar to get her off you.

“Gary, it’s fine!” You laugh as Lady happily licks at your hands as you try to pet the squirmy dog, “I didn’t even know you had a dog! How could you not tell me?”

“Technically, my mom got Lady after I moved out to become a henchman so she’s not really mine. She’s super friendly thankfully.” Gary sighed before wincing as he heard his mom’s voice calling from the kitchen.

“Gary, I told you to call me before you got here! I’m still making lunch for the two of you!” 

“Mom, I said not to make anything! We had a late breakfast!” Gary groans, taking your hand and leading you to the kitchen.

As you walk into the kitchen, you see an older woman with the same shade of brown as Gary’s hair with slivers of gray showing through, hunched over the stove. She finally turns around, wiping her hands on a nearby kitchen towel as she sees you for the first time.

“Mom, this is my partner, [Your Name].” Gary introduces the two of you, squeezing your hand tightly.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Ms. Fischer.” You say politely, extending your hand but blink as instead you’re wrapped in a warm embrace instead. 

“Oh my god, no need to be so formal! Call me Irene!” Ms. Fischer teases before pulling away to look at you full on, her eyes assessing you up and down before they widen, “Wait a second, I remember you!”

Gary and you glance at each other confused before saying in unison, “You do?”

“Weren’t you two in the same little comic book club, Gary? Remember you had that meeting here when the school kicked you out for trespassing, thinking you were an adult. I told you they were cute, didn't I?”

“You remember that far back? That was before I even turned 15!”

“I’m not that old, Gary!”

-

After Gary begrudgingly agreed to split the lunch his mom had prepared for the both of you, the three of you were squeezed together on the couch with Ms. Fischer sitting in the middle, a worn-out photo album in her lap, showing you page after page of baby photos of the henchman.

“Mom, don’t show her that one!” Gary protests, his cheeks red as he attempts to snatch the photo of him as a toddler wearing just a diaper with a plastic sword and a paper crown on his head.

Irene’s reflexes are too quick for him, dodging his large hand as she places the photo into your hands. “I swear, I could never get him to take off that darn crown once we went to Medieval Times.”

You reach across her lap to give Gary’s hand a firm squeeze, grinning at the cute photo, “It’s okay, Gare. You were such an adorable kid,” Your hand reached up to squeeze his cheek playfully, “And you got even more adorable as you got older.”

Gary smiles warmly, pressing a soft kiss on the inside of your wrist. Irene looks between the two of you with a look of admiration before clearing her throat, “Gary, those comics that you got shipped to our house are piling up in your room! Can you please go grab them?”

“Now mom? I can do that later…” His voice trailed off when his mother gave him a stern look. “Alright, fine! I’m going!” Gary groans, getting up from the couch, heading to his old room in the basement of the Fischer home, leaving you alone with Mrs. Fischer.

“I swear, I don’t know where he gets his stubbornness from.” Irene sighs before placing the photo album on the coffee table and turning to face you. “I just wanted to get you alone for just a second to say thank you for looking after my Gare Bear. He’s such a sweetheart and I worry about him doing all that dangerous stuff.”

“Of course, there’s so much to love about him and I’ve always got his back.” You say which Irene beams at, bringing you into an embrace and squeezing you tightly before pulling away, grabbing you by the shoulders.

“And if he ever does something stupid, you call me and I’ll whip him into shape!” She says pointedly to which you hear a groan echoing from your boyfriend as he ascends up the stairs, a box full of comics in his arms. 

“I heard that, mom!”

-

On the drive back to your shared apartment, Gary makes you pinky promise not to tell the Monarchs about his mom’s nickname for him.

“Of course… Gare Bear.”

“[Your Name]!”

[feralgoblinqueen]

At the rehearsal dinner, the night before your wedding, your bridesmaids have prepared a presentation for you. They laugh conspiratorially before pulling the slide show up on the projector. The title is: Y/N Being Feral for Her Future Husband. Each slide has a photo and beneath is the unhinged text you sent with it. All the photos are sneaky pics you took while working with them.

Slide one: A slightly blurry image of him sitting on a bench at the gym.

The caption: “Sitting on his lap would probably fix me.”

Slide two: Picture is of him sipping his morning coffee or tea, disheveled.

The caption: “I’m jealous of a mug.”

Slide three: It looks like a selfie at first but you’re in the bottom corner and he’s in the background in full tactical gear.

The caption: “Love a man that uses protection.”

Slide four: Another blurry image obviously taken on a drunken night out with the rest of the team. There’s a tipped over shot glass and he’s licking the liquor off the bar. He’s got a big, goofy grin, being egged on by those around him.

The caption: “How many shots do you think it would take for him to want to lick me like that?”

Slide five: It’s a picture of his bicep flexed and the corded muscle on display, a slight sheen of sweat glistening in the light.

The caption: “I want to gnaw on him like a chew toy.”

Slide six: This is, much to your relief, the last picture. It’s of him sitting across from you at a dining table, dressed in nicer civilian clothes. Your first official date.

The caption: “Please, whatever deity is out there, don’t let me fuck this up.”

__________

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for ages. I don’t even know if anyone else will find it as funny as I do.

[lxvvie]

Simps 'R Us, Between the Sheets edition: Your faves and the wholesome and funny things you two get up to in bed, part I.

Capt. John Price - When he's half asleep and about to snore loud enough to wake the dead (Price vehemently denies this), you like to have random conversations with him because you know questions you ask will do one of two things: elicit a nonsensical answer from the Cap'n or... wake him up from his sleep altogether.

Gaz - Is curling up into himself because you're the big spoon, you're running your hands over his body because he's highkey lowkey ticklish, and your face is buried in his neck because... he's highkey lowkey ticklish. "Darling, please—" Gaz manages to gasp out between... wait, are you giggling, Garrick?

Soap - Your darling golden retriever chaotic good boyfriend loves... to sleep naked. You're not complaining, though, especially because he loves it when you lay on him. You've made a home for yourself between his thighs; his stomach is your pillow, and he usually has a hand rubbing your head. Helps him to relax, y'know, bonnie? And whenever you don't lay on him, it's an affront to Johnny's... everything. His heart is broken. His soul is crushed. You're too far away from him (even though you're still right under him). How could you do this to him? He can't live like this. No other stud muffin can offer you what he can, beautiful. But no really, bonnie, he needs you on top of him like... yesterday.

Ghost - You really like his body. Like... really like his body. You blow raspberries on his stomach, you smack his ass, you talk about his eyelashes—scratch that, you love his body. To you, every scar tells a story, and you've asked him plenty of times to talk about them. And then you did the unthinkable that had Simon wanting to disappear into the fucking blankets—"Si-bear, I didn't know you had a mole on your inner thigh!" Bloody fucking hell, he'll never hear the end of this. And then you kissed it and Ghost's face had never felt so bloody hot before. Christ, you'll be the death of him, sweetheart.

Roach - Nothing but the most sickeningly saccharine stuff to ever stuff happens with Roach. A poke-fest, a kiss-fest, a tickle-fest, you name it, it happens. Roach loves to sleep with his face buried in your chest and arms wound tight around you. Always. You rubbing his head soothes him to sleep as well.

Alex - You're also the big spoon here, too. You're busy talking about conspiracy theories you believe the government is/was involved in and Alex is entertaining you ("That so, Boss?"). In actuality, his eyes are comically wide because the truth is oftentimes stranger than fiction and you may or may not be walking a little heavy there, Boss.

Alejandro - Is the big spoon to your little spoon in bed no matter what you're doing. Loves to intertwine your legs together, too. Alejo murmurs how much he loves you in your ear and kisses the top of your head before telling you good night.

Rudy - Sometimes when he's asleep, you'll whisper "Rodolfo" in his ear which causes Rudy to shoot up, eyes comically wide because the only time someone calls him by his full government name is when he gets into shit but it wasn't him this time, it was that idiot Alvarez— "Didn't get to tell you good night and I love you, Rudy, so... good night and I love you, Rudy." Oh. Oh. Ha. Real funny.

Farah - A cuddle bunny through and through. She loves laying up under you, her head resting on your shoulder or under your chin, or her face in the crook of your neck. She wants to hear you as you sleep. She wants to feel the gentle rise and fall of your chest or the resonances as you speak. Farah simply can't get enough of you.

Keegan - It's really you teasing him because Keegan isn't one to really get flustered or deviate from his infamously neutral expression. Much. Until you came along. You two are relaxing in bed and you're the one randomly calling out, "Hey, Kee-Kee," to which Keegan makes the most surprised and disgusted face in response and you're wheezing.

[kortac-sweetheart]

cuddle hcs w/ my fave cod men (୨୧ᵕ̤ᴗᵕ̤)

(also ranked from best to “worst” cuddler)

best cuddler around:

ok now hear me out, i think nikto and velikan would be tied for best cuddler.

they don’t move at all, whatever position you want to cuddle in will be the way they stay all night. (unless you want to change cuddle positions, then they might grumble the tiniest bit before moving.

their bodies are also very warm and sturdy, perfect to be held and perfect to hold you as well.

nikto’s favorite cuddle position is when you’re facing each other, your head resting on his bicep and chest to chest, legs intertwined. they like holding you close, like a teddy bear, it makes them feel grounded; assured that you’re real and you’re there with them.

he’s so warm that you could forgo a blanket entirely, warmed only by his body heat but nikto won’t allow it. constantly pulling the covers up to your chin, fussing quietly over you. just let them take care of you, ok?

velikan’s favorite cuddle position is whatever your favorite is. although he’s slightly partial to you laying entirely on top of him like he’s the bed. don’t worry, he can handle it. in fact, it’s like a weighted blanket, it grounds his mind and his body and it lets him relax, knowing you’re so close to him, basically face to face.

he’s also built like a heater too, so it’s like lying on a warm electric bed or something, except it’s holding you tightly too. he’s also another one that makes sure you’re under the blankets, your chest may be warm but your back is getting cold, honey.

(if it wasn’t a huge hassle he’d let you spin around on top of him like a rotisserie chicken to make sure all of you is warmed up, but alas.)

second best cuddler is… roach!

his new call sign should be cuddlebug instead of roach with how much you two cuddle. he’s down to cuddle, wherever, whenever. he’s perfectly warm and soft to hold, like your personal teddy bear, and you’re his.

loves any positions that’s face to face, laying down is fine and you sitting in his lap or his in yours is great too. he just wants to be able to see your cute face grow sleepier and sleepier until eventually you two fall asleep in each others arms.

cuddles are always filled with little giggles, small and lighthearted jokes between you two, gentle nose boops and squeezing each other in tight hugs. they’re tooth achingly sweet and you’re always told to “get a room!” if anyone catches you two cuddling on base.

next best cuddler is keegan!

another one that’s always down to cuddle but in a more, casual, manner than roach. will see you standing or sitting somewhere and he’ll rock up behind you to gently pull you into his chest and arms. he’s very observant and in tune with you (thanks to his sniping skills) so he knows when you’re feeling down, don’t even try to hide it, sugar.

so he doesn’t hesitate to pull you into his arms, gently swaying with you if you’re standing, and squeezing you if you’re laying. he doesn’t say much, just allows the both of you to relax in each other’s company in silence. (he doesn’t move at all either, sniper skills coming in clutch again.)

that’s why his favorite position is being the big spoon. it’s simple, it’s easy and it lets him hold you tightly, what’s not to love? his body and yours fits together like two puzzle pieces, meant to be together, like this.

ghost is almost tied with keegan, but keegan is slightly better

simon is like keegan in which he’s very observant and in tune with you but it’s harder for him to jump over the hurdle of intimacy. he wants to comfort and hold you, but he gets inside of his head sometimes, and it physically locks up his body.

most days he triumphs over the hurdle, and other days he falls flat on his face over it. but those days he’s able to hold you are some of the best, he pulls you close into his chest, rubbing a large palm up and down your back. he knows you like the low gravelly tone of his voice and the way his chest rumbles and so he yaps, just for you, about anything and everything (except for work).

but other days, he’s unable to comfort you unless you come to him first or johnny gives him a shove towards you (quite literally actually), and he’s suddenly able to move again. quickly wrapping his arms around you, squeezing tightly as if you’d slip away, ephemeral.

as stated before, his fave position is you tucked closely to his chest, his arms wrapped around you, and legs intertwined too for good measure.

and right behind simon is johnny!

it’s not like he’s a bad cuddler necessarily it’s just that he moves a lot. (and he gets a little handsy with you too) if he’s not tired out already then you will be switching cuddling positions every 15 minutes, i’m sorry it’s just how it is with him. (his favorite position is holding you entirely on one arm while he walks around doing things lol)

he’s itching to move even just a little bit and so he’s always rolling over (with you in his arms too mind you). that’s why it’s best to cuddle him right after he comes back from deployment. he’s too tired to move at all, so he just lays there on the bed, basically boneless and you can cuddle up to him all you want without him moving.

if he falls asleep in post-deployment cuddles then you’re not moving until he wakes up again, that’s also just how it is with him. you’re gonna be trapped in his solid arms for a good few hours, and this time he’ll grumble when you try and move. hope you went to the bathroom before this because sorry bonnie, you’re not going anywhere.

krueger is tied with johnny tbh

he’s a man of two extremes when it comes to cuddling, either he’s unable to stop moving around or he’s cuddling you like a python. and you never know what mode he’s in that day until you’re in bed and cuddling with him.

on days he can’t stop moving, muscles restless, he’s dragging you around with him wherever he goes. it’s a common sight to see you perched on an arm or his back as he goes about his business. (no one ever dares mention it to him either, they’d like their sternum intact thank you very much)

he likes the feeling of your weight on him, a constant reminder that you’re safe, with him, and not to mention you’re so nice to hold. so soft and warm, perfect to hug..

and that’s when he shifts into python mode. running (yes running) back to your or his room, whichever is closer, and delicately laying you down on the bed. he then wraps himself around you, arms AND legs holding you against him, and no you can’t move. at all.

he will complain if you move around, just tell him that you need to get comfy and he’ll loosen just the tiniest bit, allowing you to turn around and face him instead before his limbs clamp down on you again.

he’s surprisingly… cold to the touch, and it always gives you a little shock to touch his skin (much to his amusement), it only makes him hold you closer. you’re his personal heater now, so quit moving schatzi and let him warm up (for a few hours.)

konig and oni are tied for… mediocre cuddlers..

they’re both very stiff cuddlers, it’s like cuddling a wooden plank.

konig is very, very not used to cuddling anybody. this is extremely unknown territory for him and so he just. doesn’t know what to do with his limbs. you practically have to maneuver his arms and legs to wrap around you, yourself. only then when you’ve settled into his arms it’s when he then relaxes. eases his arms around you, but he doesn’t hold you tightly, more akin to cupping a delicate flower in his hands, afraid to accidentally hurt you. if you want him to hold you tighter you’re gonna have to speak up or move him yourself.

that’s why konig likes being the little spoon better. he doesn’t have to be stiff in holding you, and it makes him feel good to be “small” sometimes. to be pampered and cared for, it’s something entirely unknown but it makes him happy, safe in your arms.

oni is also like konig in which he has never ever cuddled or been cuddled in his entire life. he hasn’t done anything romantic in his life actually, so this is all very new to him. the first few times you try and cuddle with him he’s really stiff. unsure where to put his arms and he’s just super tense underneath you. it’s better if you curl up into his side like a cat and wait for him to move to hold you.

he gets the hang of it quickly, liking it more than he thought he would. it’s nice, not to think about anything but you in his arms. focusing on the way your dreamy face twitches in sleep, your steady breaths, your consistent heartbeats, and it lulls him to sleep too.

he likes it, you curl up into him first and he follows suit, sleeping and cuddling face to face.

horangi… horangi is the worst cuddler, sorry

horangi cannot stay still to save his life. his muscles and mind are always itching to do something, anything.

you manage to get him on the bed and he’s already moving to do something, asking you if you needed anything while he’s up. if you really want to cuddle this man you can’t let up you’re gonna have to throw him on the bed and lay your entire body weight on him to make him stay, and even then that’s a struggle.

it’s better to come to a compromise between the two of you instead. he physically cannot lay down to cuddle but you want to be held and so he (just like johnny) holds you in one arm while he does things around base/home. holding you above his hip in one arm like a baby (you’re his baby) while he’s walking around. or hell, he doesn’t mind giving you a piggyback ride either, you get to hold him and he gets to do things, win-win!