#i noticed this when listening to soap the other day and LOST IT

[soapcan18]

OH MY GOSH GUYS I’M GOING CRAZY THERE’S A PERFECT SONG CONNECTION IN SOAP

So you know this lyric at the end of Notos?

“Da da da da you gotta let go”

IN SOAP THEY SAY:

“But your sums and your pieces

Are enough to make you whole

You gotta let go”

ITS A DIRECT LYRICAL REFERENCE TO NOTOS AHHH

I love this so much because Notos is the narrator realizing their mistakes and taking that first step towards change!

And in Soap, the narrator is trying to help their partner embrace change, so they’re teaching them the same lesson they learned wayyy at the beginning of their journey!

Not to mention Notos is the start of the Anemoi EPs and Zephyrus is the end, adding even further onto the cycle motif repeated throughout all four albums :)

[gatitties]

War & crack II

—Task Force 141 x young!reader

—Summary: more headcanons with your team as you being chaotic

—Warnings: none

Part One / Halloween special

yeah, I didn't finish my brainstorm and I bring more things from this sudden idea 🫣

─ Listen, you have a lot of problems.

─ And we are not talking about your jokes about death biting your ass anymore.

─ Price's going to go bald before he retires, how the hell are you still alive today? It is a mystery to them.

─ Everyone noticed during a mission where they had to stay in a safe house for a few weeks that you had the same concentration as a fly, empty thoughts behind your eyes lost in a distant point of reality.

─ You looked like another person when you were a simple civilian, Gaz had to pull you so you wouldn't get run over a couple of times for not looking at the traffic lights.

─ Price needs to put on videos of crunchy slime or Subway Surfers so you could hear what he was saying, (Soap won't admit that it also helps him focus).

─ They discovered that you can sleep in any position, seriously, whether it's standing up, in the bathtub, your body bent in an unusual way, now they understand why you complain so much about back pain.

─ Everyone looks in silence when they give you little impulses to do stupid things, like, last time you were walking to see the area and you found a woman walking her dog, you asked her if you could pet it and when she said yes you pet the woman instead of the dog, Ghost dragged you away murmuring an apology.

─ The following days they decided that you would stay at home, they simply fed your stupidity, every time they arrived you received them with the phrase 'where have you been, loca?' while playing a wolf howl in the background.

─ Luckily it was time to return to the base, during the trip you were listening to music, despite having your headphones you had the volume so high that everyone could hear it, Soap stuck to you because he liked what you were listening, the others decided to drown out the noise with some light talk.

─ Once you returned to the base you relaxed, returning to your working state, you focused again, which relieved all.

─ One day they decided that you needed a nickname since everyone had it except you, so they began to investigate your record as a cadet and even your years in the military school.

─ You kicked and fought because you were something else a while ago, but it was inevitable to find an old report where it said that you were violent with some classmates.

─ And in your anger for probably some nonsense, you ended up biting the ankles of a guy, or a group of guys, or even one of your lieutenants...

─ Soap and Gaz cried with laughter because there was a video of what was evidenced and you looked like a rabid chihuahua attacking its worst enemy.

─ Nibbles, at least it was temporary because you didn't entirely agree with the nickname.

— Since you were now known like that, you went from friendly punches to friendly bites.

─ Once you got kidnapped and you returned to the base the next day because your captors couldn't stand having you sing old Justin Bieber songs or listening to you talk about all your obsessions, they tried to cover your mouth but you just kept making too much noise, the information was not worth it.

─ You arrived in the middle of the meeting they had to prepare the rescue, having the courage to enter the room asking who they were trying to rescuing.

─ Price casually replied that they were looking for you until he did a double take, realizing you were there.

─ You were buried in a mass of muscles after the realization.

─ When you're depressed at random times (because you don't understand how your brain works and you feel bad out of nowhere), everyone will quickly notice, like even though you're not the most talkative person all the time, you usually drop some stupid comment, but on your bad days you are simply a piece of flesh and bones that walks without knowing where it's going.

─ The first time they saw you like this they tried to do something to cheer you up, Price gave you a few days off hoping your mood wasn't due to work overload, he even wrote some of your reports.

─ Soap bought stickers and decorations to your liking to decorate your prosthesis, he also told you that he could draw you a design to have your personalized arm.

─ Gaz tried to talk to you but you just didn't want to open your mouth, he chose to just keep you silent company, maybe you hug him, you need a little physical support.

─ Ghost will leave objects scattered around knowing that you would find them, knowing that they were things that you liked or had been looking for (because the poor guy always has to pick up what you forget around the common room).

— Nothing seemed to work until a stray kitten snuck in and lit up your face, so the easy answer was any baby animal would brighten your day, it was free therapy.

— You once dyed the boys' clothes pink by accident, but at least you told them that now they could go see Barbie with you.

— You promised you'd take them to see Oppenheimer, and that's why they agreed.

— You created a group chat just to send shitpost and teach them the meme path.

— Price just leaves it on seen, Ghost has the group muted, Gaz answers from time to time and Soap is the most active, he learns fast about today's shitpost.

— You really resist the urge to trim Price's beard to make it heart-shaped.

— You use the radio to sing parts of songs when you take too long to jump into action, Price scolds you for it.

— You complain that he seems constantly in a bad mood and you open a profile for him on every dating app you know, even on Grindr.

— You found Ghost's profile browsing Tinder and Soap's profile on Grindr... you decided to use it as a weapon in case you needed any favors.

— Gaz caught you red-handed, but you made a deal and he wouldn't say anything if he can profit from the manipulation.

— You hide it like you're hiding war crimes.

— Why does Price have so many likes from single moms?

[teddiesworldd]

could you do a pt2 of the zombie outbreak with ghost, maybe the zombie outbreak ends and they get used to being a normal couple? idk

after the world ends (p2)

this is part two of my ghost apocalypse au, you can read part one here!

a/n: thank you so much for all the love on part 1 and for this request which inspired part 2! i hope it's what you imagined <3 (1k words)

pairing: simon ghost riley x reader

tags/warnings: apocalypse au, fluffy, some descriptions similar to ptsd, starting a family, the ending they deserved ;')

day 154 of the apocalypse, 5 months after the first outbreak, 2 months after the second.

time creeped on slowly as the days melted into weeks, and then months. you’d become quite accustomed to life behind the fence, picking up various skills to make yourself useful in camp. the others had taught you everything you needed to know. you could now fish, hunt, cook - survival was something that came so naturally now, it was like your life before never happened. like it had always been this way. on your trips out of camp with soap, you had noticed shoots of grass and leaves sprouted up through the concrete over time and covered your city in an overwhelming green haze. 

other than the odd trip outside the safety of the fence, your days were calm and laid back. you often spent them laying out by the river with simon, watching the water flow past in the warm spring air. more recently though, you’d looked after the german shepherd you had found with soap in the city, which you had lovingly named riley after your love. there was always plenty to do - things needed fixing up, whether that be the equipment or each other. 

in the evenings, you no longer watched soap and ghost talking from your tent - you sat alongside them at the campfire, simon’s large hand holding yours. you shared stories of your lives before the outbreak, dreaming of what you’d do when the world turned the right way around again - if that would ever happen. and when your conversations died down, simon led you to his bed and you spent the night with your head on his chest, listening to his faint heartbeat to drown out the sounds of the infected who got too close to the fence.

it wasn’t all smooth sailing; some of the others in camp had fallen sick and the nearest pharmacy was completely stripped by other groups, leaving nothing to treat your own wounded campmates. illness spread like wildfire here and all you could do was nurse their wounds and cook hot meals to lift their spirits and provide warmth. a few lost their lives to disease or to the zombies, but most fought on, struggling through the days.

you’ll never forget the moment when you heard about the cure. 

head resting on simon’s shoulder, swaying gently to the faint crackle of the radio. his hands gently gripping to your waist, holding you close like he never wanted to let you go. it was a routine that you both had for a few weeks now, after your first night together in the tent. rocking gently to the music as the sun glowed shades of pink and orange in the late evening. "my girl, i'll marry you when this is over." he'd tell you every time you held each other like this. simon had never felt so enamoured with someone in his whole life. he couldn't wait for the day you shared his last name. it was what kept him going through all this - the thought of living a normal life with you on the other side. soap sat nearby, cleaning up whatever he’d found during the day, cheesing over the action figures he found in the house he raided, watching as you and simon fell utterly in love with each other.

the music cut off and the announcer said that a cure had been developed to treat the infected. and suddenly you remembered everything that you had left behind 5 months ago.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

four years later, you sat out on the porch of your home with a cold drink, watching simon play with your daughter in the backyard. he proposed to you as soon as you heard the radio broadcast and you married shortly after normality returned, falling pregnant and buying a house together. it never really got any easier - cuts turned into scars and memories of your days in camp turned sour, plaguing your dreams. often you’d wake up in a cold sweat, fear running through you like you were still there. but simon never failed to bring you back to earth again, stroking your hair and shushing you to sleep again. soap visited often, riley always jumping up at him madly as he stumbled through the front door. your daughter had grown accustomed to calling him “uncle johnny”, which he loved and it made him well up the first time he heard her say it.

nothing would really be the same again - you had lost most of your friends and family, and the world never quite got back to the way it was before.

but in a way, that was okay. because so much good came from it. 

“mommy, look!” you daughter giggled madly from the bottom of the garden. you snapped out of your thoughts, eyes landing on your 4-year-old daughter who was halfway up the tree at the bottom of the lawn.

“i- i did try to tell ‘er not to,” simon sighed, walking up to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “but you know what she’s like... little adventurer.”

you couldn’t help but laugh. it definitely wasn’t the first time she’d gone up there - she climbed up it like she’d done it a thousand times before.

“reminds me of someone i know.” simon said, looking down at you in your chair, nothing but love in his eyes. he kissed you sweetly, reminding you of the first time your lips touched that night in your tent. 

“i’ll start making dinner, yeah?” he finished, hand gently squeezing your arm before heading into the kitchen. you really did get so lucky the day you crossed paths in the woodland.

“can someone help me down?!” your daughter shouted, riley barking up at her playfully as she clinged tightly to the branches.

“yeah, honey, i’m coming” you replied, placing down your drink and heading down the garden.

˚✧. thank you for reading!

˚✧.please reblog to support me <3

˚✧. dividers by @ saradika-graphics and @ si-eunnis

✎ masterlist

💌 send a request

[lazybutsmexy]

Are you looking for a wife?

Alejandro Vargas x fem!reader

Warnings: pure fluff, mention of injuries, probably very wrong medical information, prescribed drug use, some cursing.

Summary: whenever you get ketamine as pain relief, you lose all thought-to-speech filter.

On AO3

A/N: I just watched an episode of one of those shows about air ambulances from the UK where they gave a guy ketamine, and he was high as a kite and kept telling the doctor (who was like 20 years older) "you're my kind of bird 🥺♥️". You really can get inspiration from anywhere, huh.

•~•~•~•~•

It had been one of those missions that went to shit really quick but somehow the Ghost team got the upper hand in the end. The intel was found, the hostage was rescued, and most of the team got away with minimal injuries.

Unfortunately for you, you were the exception to the last one.

The bullet and the stab wound you had received left you at a risk of bleeding out. One of the Vaqueros - Fernando, you learned - had enough medical training to treat you on site, but you really needed the MedEvac stat. The stim shot you had given yourself during the heat of the battle had long since worn off, and you were administered a strong dose of ketamine to keep your blood pressure from spiking any further and help with the pain once you all made it to the safe house.

However, one funny secondary effect you always got when you were given that drug, was that you lost all filters with your musings. They were never inappropriate per se, just plain weird. In a few words, you were high off your tits.

"...Mars is the only planet in the universe to be entirely inhabited by robots…" you mumbled to no one in particular as you stared straight at the roof over your head, past the top of Fernando's head who was still stitching a scratch on your forehead - only God knows how you got that one. Fernando just blinked at you and shook his head, focusing on his task, while Soap, who wasn't that far from you, was having a really hard time trying not to laugh at your stoner talk.

The utter (non?)sense that came out of your mouth was indeed amusing to whoever was listening closely, mostly Soap and Ghost, who, like the rest of 141, were already used to your reaction to ketamine from previous experiences, and would sometimes even prompt more unhinged thoughts from you. Price tried not to pay too much attention to whatever you said - he knew that as long as you were somewhat coherent and cohesive with your words, they could rule out any brain damage. Whenever Gaz heard your comments, it actually made him think about what you said, always coming to the conclusion that you were actually onto something.

Fernando finally finished with your care and left to check some of the others, while you kept staring at the ceiling of the safehouse, completely lost in your thoughts again. Your eyelids felt heavy, but you weren't sure if it was because of the drug or the blood loss. You were trying really hard to stay awake, but now that your body wasn't burning with pain and the adrenaline had worn off, all the exhaustion from the previous days caught up with you.

You looked over at Ghost, who was now speaking to Alejandro, and couldn't help but sigh dreamily at the leader of the Vaqueros - your inhibitions had really flown out of the window when the ketamine hit. They both glanced at you and you blinked twice, each time your eyelids got heavier.

"LT, 'm sleepy," you groaned, not noticing that you were pouting at both your Lieutenant and the Colonel like a grumpy toddler that needed a nap.

Alejandro somehow maintained a passive stare at you - inwardly though, he was already cradling you in his arms and cooing sweet nothings at you until you fell asleep.

Ghost simply stared at your lying form, and walked closer to you, crouching down to take a better look at your bandages.

"...Well, since you aren't actively bleeding out, I suppose you can take a nap," Ghost huffed but quickly held a finger to your face before you could take him up on it, "but someone will wake you up every 30 minutes just to make sure you still live, copy?"

"Copy, LT, loud and cle-" you interrupted yourself and just stared straight at his skull mask. Ghost frowned, wondering if he should feel concerned.

"...Are you-"

"A cheeseburger," you interrupted him, your eyes wide like sauce plates, "is a dead cow covered with its lactation." As soon as you finished your sentence, your head lolled to the side and you were knocked out cold, a soft snore leaving your barely open lips.

"Bloody fucking hell, kid," Ghost sighed, shaking his head in defeat as Soap wheezed not far away from you.

Alejandro could only stare at you, his hand clutched to his chest. "...Ay, ternura…"

•~•~•~•~•

Thirty minutes had passed when Alejandro decided to check on you. Activity had lulled to a stop and most of the people were catching on some sleep, except for those keeping guard.

He could've gotten some shut-eye too, but he was the kind of leader who wouldn't completely rest until it was totally safe to do so for the whole team.

As he approached you, he noticed you were already awake and staring at the ceiling. He smiled softly, wondering if you were getting lost in your silly little thoughts again, and sat down next to you, watching your eyes focus on him this time.

"What's in your head, preciosa?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper so as to not wake the others.

"...Are you looking for a wife?" You whispered back at him after a few moments.

He blinked twice before leaning a little closer, wondering if he had heard you right, and if you could hear the way his heart rate picked up. "... Perdón?"

"Are you looking for a wife, Alejandro?" You repeated, dead serious.

He cleared his throat to get rid of the knot that formed there, before grinning at you. "...why? Are you offering?"

"... Yes," you nodded, offering him a little grin of your own, "where should I turn my résumé?"

He chuckled softly and reached down, fixing a stray lock from your forehead and tucked it behind your ear, "ask me again when you're sober and I might tell you, tesoro."

"Oh, the ketamine wore off," you sighed, slightly leaning into his fingers, "the pain woke me up, my whole body burns, actually."

His grin dropped and he frowned at you in concern, you looked awfully calm to be in that much pain. "...Want me to ask Fernando to give you some more?"

You shook your head, offering him a smile, but this time he noticed the sweat on your forehead and the frown in your brow as you tried not to move too much, "nah, I want to be sober to hear your answer. So? How do I apply?"

This time Alejandro could barely check the volume of his chuckle as he leaned even closer to you, his knuckles brushing your cheek, "If you're available, the position is all yours, preciosa."

This time you offered him a toothy smile, a flush staining your cheeks and all signs of pain gone from your features, "I make a mean huevo ranchero, you won't regret it."

"You could make me only tostadas for the rest of your life and I'd still look forward to them," he cooed, before signaling Fernando over to you, "now, let's get you comfortable for the trip, si?"

Just as he spoke, the rumble of the heli echoed in the distance, and little by little the teams woke up from their slumber. You got another shot of ketamine and were prepared for the journey, and it wasn't long until you started sharing your wisdom again with whoever could hear, much to Alejandro's delight, Soap's amusement, and Ghost's chagrin.

"If you think about it, the Miss Universe pageant should be called Miss Planet Earth, because no aliens participate in it… that we know of…"

A/N2: *quietly tags @ragingbookdragon here* 🤫♥️

[hunterbunter3000]

Thinking about a fake dating scenario like say Sweets family is always bothering her about not dating anyone and she lies and says “actually I am seeing someone!” But then they ask to meet the person so now she has to find someone ti be her fake date. I would imagine the boys would be fighting each other for a chance to do that.

I know this is super random haha I’m just talking to talk at this point.

YES! AND RANDOM IS GOOD 👏👏 talk the talk and walk the walk babes! Any ideas you have SPEAK ON IT!!! 💓

But omg you're right, they would

Sweetheart walked in the living room, where the team was sitting on the couch drinking beers. She was talking on the phone as she walked past them to the kitchen, not even noticing the boys.

And she's talking to her mom about her love life. Saying "Yes ma! I will bring him this time!" And "You can tell Danni to shut the hell up cause he is real". And then she says love you and hangs up the phone.

Sweetheart, looking at everybody:

The boys looking at her:

Sweetheart: Okay who wants to be my boyfriend for the day

then they all say M E

And all hell breaks loose 💀💀

Soap: What tae FUCK do y'mean 'mE', Ghost?

Ghost: the fuck do YOU mean 'mEaH', Mactavish?

Soap: I SAID ME

Ghost: nah see-- you did it again. 'MeAh'. It's two letters.

Soap: AH WULL PUMPIN' BREAK YE YAH BRITISH CRUMPET

Sweetheart: uhm, guys?

Gaz: Bitch don't even try

Horangi: And why should I listen to you?

Gaz: You get a nose bleed everytime Sweets hugs you.

Horangi: WHAT?? HOW DO-- HOW CAN YOU EVEN SEE THAT I WEAR A MASK

Gaz: it drips under it, bruv. And I don't think her parents want to witness an extremely touched starved man get an aneurysm everytime their daughter touches him.

Sweetheart: GOOD LORD GAZ--

Horangi: OH YOU THINK YOU'RE SO MUCH BETTER? YOU CRY EVERYTIME SWEETHEART TELLS YOU A GOOD JOB

Gaz: YO I DO NOT-

Ghost: He cries when Capitan says it too.

Horangi: THAT TOO

Gaz: GHOST STAY THE FUCK OUT OF THIS

Price: You cry when I tell you good job?

Sweetheart, kinda touched but concerned: And you cry when I say it too?

Gaz: UHM- SIR I-- WELL SWEETS YOU-- FUCK

Krueger: Ignoring the emotionally unstable man--

Gaz: HEY

Krueger: You should take me, Kleine Göttin.

König: Don't, Sweets. You'll never return if you do

Krueger: König what the fuck

Krueger: You can't even talk your way into getting gas at a gas station, you think her parents want to see you freeze like a tortoise having sex when they talk to you?

König: AT LEAST I DONT SNIFF ANY SEATS SWEETHEART WAS IN

Krueger: THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS

König: IT HAS E V E R Y T H I N G TO DO WITH THIS

Sweetheart: Krueger-- YOU DO WHAT

Ghost: He also sniffs your hair

Sweetheart: You do that too, Ghost

Ghost, stares at Krueger: Not while you're sleeping.

Sweetheart: KRUEGER????

Krueger: GHOST SHUT THE FUCK U P

Alejandro: Please don't take Krueger, mama. He would end up in prison

Krueger: (angry German words)

Alejandro: You can take me! They'll love my charm.

Price: What, so you can flirt your way out of personal questions they'll most definitely ask you?

Ghost: Especially with that five-palm forehead you got

Alejandro: CÁLLATE LA BOCA DECORACIÓN DE HALLOWEEN

Rudy: Price, you have no say in this matter. You can practically be her father's golfing buddy.

Sweetheart: uhm, my dad doesn't golf--

Price: I'm 37 you fucking Muppet

Sweetheart: nevermind.

Rudy, surprised: Really?? Damn I didn't know that! You just looked like one of Super Mario's long lost cousins to me because of the janitor mustache you have on your old body

Price: Mother fucker--

Ghost: I don't think you would do well either when you look like a human gopher

Rudy: GHOST WHERE DO YOU KEEP COMING FROM

Alex: ROACH OW STOP HITTING MY FACE

Roach on Alex's shoulders:😠 pap-pap-pap-pap-pap-pap (like a fucking cat)

Sweetheart, rubbing her temples: Oh my fucking GOD- I'LL JUST CHOOSE MYSELF THIS IS TAKING TOO LONG AND GAZ LOOKS LIKE HES ABOUT TO CRY

Gaz, tearing up: I AM NOT

Soap: Me!

Horangi: It's me!

Graves, picking his nails:

Graves: It's probably not me.

Keegan: Uh... If it's no trouble, you can take me. I have to give your brother his game boy back anyway

Everyone looking at Keegan:

Soap: w u t

She takes Keegan.

(He honestly had a good time! Yes, he did start a fire with her siblings accidentally but other than that her parents loved him. Sweetheart sent pictures to everyone and omg they were so SALTY SAD AND JEALOUS. Ghost kinda smiled at a picture with Sweetheart and Keegan together, Keegan's face without the mask and grease paint wearing a nervous but kind smile. He looks happy. The others don't but they'll get over it someday💀💀)

[batterygarden]

even more bf Denji hcs

Part 3; F!reader, suggestive moment MDNI, college age, very miscellaneous

m.list , part 1, part 2

One time you were complaining about your lower back aching all day and Denji was sick of it. “I could just crack your back right now and ya wouldn’t have to be hurting.” “Denji you’re not a chiropractor, it’s fine.” “A what? Here, just turn around.” You hesitantly faced the other way and Denji swiftly karate chopped your spine so hard it knocked the wind out of you. Then somehow your back did feel kinda better.

Animals absolutely love this man. Kids too. It kinda hurts your feelings that they seem to forget you’re there the second Denji walks in a room, but there’s just something about his energy that has them gravitating. Even your own kin!! Your own little cousins and family members. Like you’ll show up to a dinner without him and when they see you’re alone it’s all frowns and “Where’s Denji? Why didn’t he come?” 

Sometimes Denji’s openness with strangers leads to the wrong idea, and, occasionally, Denji will get hit on despite having a girlfriend. If no one else is there to notice, he honestly just gives a polite yet firm “I have a girlfriend.” in response. But on one occasion it happened while you were standing next to him, and, not wanting you to feel jealous, Denji crossed his arms and scowled. “Can’t ya see my lover standing right here?? Get lost, champ! I’d never be interested in you or anyone but her! >:-(“ 

The person promptly apologized and left. “Denji.. I’m glad you’re loyal but you didn’t have to do all that.” 

Denji has to mumble sorry in between kisses when he accidentally bites you. “No it’s okay, I like a little biting!” “Oh yeah?” He smirks then deliberately chomps hard on your lower lip. ”Ow! Not like that.” “sorry.” 

He is a talented sleeper! Before he met you, you could have named any location and Denji would have claimed to be able to nap there. Now that you’re in the picture though, Denji’s gotten a little more high maintenance. He still thinks he could fall asleep anywhere—but now it’s only if you’re there too. Denji feels your absence, he can’t relax the same way he used to be able to without you. So he has to be really tired and in a comfy bed to fall asleep somewhere you’re not. 

Speaking of sleep, napping together is one of Denji’s love languages. You have to be cuddling though, or at the very least holding hands, or else it isn’t the same. Denji’s favorite napping position is one where his head’s on your chest, listening to your heartbeat. He’s always happy spooning too. 

“Y’smell kinda nice.” Oh yeah? Only kinda? “No no very nice. Like, you smell like uhh.. that freezuh stuff you use.” My freesia perfume?? Thanks.

He’s a sassy texter for certain :(

You text him you won’t be home for another 30 minutes and he thumbs down the message and sends back “ugh! 😒” 

“If there was a zombie apocalypse I’d so die cause of you.” “Huh!” “I just know we’d be fucking scavenging in some old supermarket and I’d be getting us food and weapons and you’d be riskin’ it all to try and stock up on your see-rah vay face wash or somethin’” “You mean my Cera Ve cleanser??” 

He’d rent one of those electric scooters to ride around town and then immediately crash it. You have to make him wear a helmet next time. 

He narrates random things he’s doing. He did it all the time growing up with Pochita, and old habits die hard. You find it endearing! Sometimes it’s just mumbling “okay now I’m gonna get dish soap and put some on the plate… and now we gotta scrub it clean..” 

He’s careful as hell when trying out new kinks with you. He doesn’t want to hurt you and he cares so much that you’re comfortable!! Like if you’re asking for some bdsm he’s down to try! He is kinky too! But like… constant check-ins at first. And a safe word for sure. 

He will EAT UP some deez nuts jokes 😞. The day you were craving a Wendy’s frosty around him was the day you lost peace.

A mall trip with Denji… oh my god he’d have a ball. Getting Cinnabon and trying on a million pairs of shoes—there’s so much to do! Then you start tugging his hand towards the Victoria’s Secret and his cheeks almost burn off. He pretends like he’s been in there before and it’s no big deal but his brain is on red alert Where am I supposed to look??? 

Like he’s touched underwear before! While doing laundry and while looking for things in your dresser and most importantly while you were wearing it, but he can’t help but feel like a perv doing it in public. So when you ask him to “feel how soft this bra is,” he has to triple check no one is paying attention to him first.

This man is a board game CHEATER. And he’s never ever as sneaky about it as he thinks he is. He’ll ask you to leave the room to get something for him at the most convenient times and you’ll come back to missing chess pieces or your hand of cards laying in a different position. If Power is there she’s an automatic co-conspirator; you may as well give up and admit defeat the easy way. 

He’s convinced you have magic kisses—and maybe it’s a placebo situation but your lips do seem to carry healing properties for him. His headaches will go away. His sinuses will clear. He’ll get a boost of energy. You can always motivate him with them. If he was stuck in the desert for thirty days he’d take a kiss from you before taking water. 

kinda short but im thinkin im going to try and post csm stuff at least every csm tuesday! also sorry i've been slow on requests--I appreciate them and am working on them just slow bc im busy! I updated info ab those in masterlist <3

[444rockstargf]

"i get high on hydroponic weed." | clyde

brooklyn baby - lana del rey

summary: after a long and rough day, you and clyde decide to spend some special time together

female!reader x clyde

contents: drinking, use of marijuana, angst (just a tiny bit), thigh riding, creampie

buckle up, yall. this is a long one.

you heaved a heavy sigh as you walked in through the door. you walked right past clyde, who was taking a hit from his bong while watching something on tv, and headed straight into the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

you sunk down to the ground as tears started streaming down your face. you turn on the faucet to drown out the sound of your quiet sobs. the pressure of your job was getting to you. things were just completely falling apart and you didnt know what to do.

you walked over to the mirror, taking a long glance at your reflection. your mascara was ruined. you got lost in your daze, so you didnt hear clyde knocking on the bathroom door.

"you ok in there?" he asked from the other side of the door. when you didnt respond, he decided to just let himself in, swinging the door open. you jumped a little, startled at this. you tried to wipe away some of the black tears on your face, but it was too late.

clyde noticed right away and he rushed up to you, holding your head in his hands. you could tell that he was getting worried. "o-oh my god... baby, what happened? are you sick? what happened today? is it your... woman thing..? you need me to get you anything? i can get you some-" you interrupted him by placing a finger on his lips.

you sniffled and wiped away some of your tears before speaking. "just... just a rough day. thats all." you gave him a weak little smile, but he still felt terrible seeing you like this.

"w-well, uh, why don't you tell me about it..?" his voice was a little shaky. you laughed softly at how he was stammering. "i think you're a bit too stoned to listen to me ramble."

clyde wasnt used to seeing you like this. you'd always been so strong and well put together. but seeing you in this vulnerable state only made his love for you grow stronger. after a moment, a dumb little grin spread across his face.

"yeah, i think you're right. but, i know what'll make you feel better." he said, gently stroking your cheek. "oh yeah? what would that be?" you asked, curious at what he had in mind. he always had outlandish ideas.

he walked toward the bathtub and turned on the water, pouring in some scented soap as the tub filled. "trust me. get into the bathtub, and i'll be right back." he rushed out of the bathroom before you could say anything.

you hesitated, but you undressed yourself and got into the warm, soapy water. you sighed softly as you felt your nerves unclenching. you had to admit, you were starting to feel better already.

you closed your eyes as you waited for clyde to return. he came back into the bathroom, a bottle of red wine in one hand and a tin of edible gummies in the other.

"great, you're already in." he said. he sat down criss-crossed beside the tub, placing the bottle and the tin on the edge of it. "i know you've had a rough day, so i thought you might have wanted to... relax with me a little." he put on of his hands into the water, splashing it a little.

you smiled as you looked at him. "yeah, that sounds great. i'd love to." you reached out to him, putting a hand in his hair as you gave him a soft kiss. as you pulled away, his eyes started wandering down your exposed body,

he started to feel a little tense at the realization that you were completely naked in front of him. and it didnt help that he was as high at a kite, either. his mind started to wander to many lustful thoughts of you.

he shook himself out of his trance, clearing his throat. "u-uh... i got your favourite wine for you." he hands you the bottle, his hand a little shaky as his eyes travel down your wet collarbone.

you accepted the bottle with a smile, popping off the cap and throwing your head back as you took a long swig. some of the wine missed your mouth and poured down your body. clyde's breath hitched as he looked at the trail of wine that ran down your neck and fell into the valley between your tits.

you pulled the bottle away from you lips, the wine staining your lips a little. clyde wanted to take you right at this moment so badly, but he knew he had to hold himself back. he handed you the tin of edibles before standing up. "well, have fun. i'll be going now." he couldn't hide his feelings for much longer, so he knew he had to get away from you.

you pouted. "you're not gonna join me..?" you asked sadly. clyde turned around, eyes wide. he didnt expect that. "h-huh...?" he couldnt tell if you were serious or not.

"get in here, clyde. its not as fun without you." you winked, making clyde's mind run wild. but he nodded as he started to remove his shirt, revealing his slightly muscular build. he took off his belt and threw it to the side. he swiftly unbuttoned his pants and slipped them off, leaving him in his boxers.

you felt yourself getting a little shy as you watched him undress, so you turned away a little. clyde took off his boxers before sinking into the bathtub right in front of you. you looked at him, a smile a your face. you passed to wine to him.

he took the bottle from you before taking a drink from the bottle. he took the tin of gummies and opened it, taking a gummy out and offering it to you. "these ones are real strong. one or two and you'll be floating on air." he said as you took it from him, putting it into your mouth.

he took one himself and ate it, despite already smoking weed earlier. as clyde always said, there was no such thing as being "too high". you started playing with some bubbles, cupping them into your hands and popping them one by one.

you crawled over to clyde, sitting on his lap before taking a handful of bubbles and slicking them through his long hair. he chuckled softly before pulling you into a gentle kiss. you wrapped your arms around his neck as his hands travelled up and down your bare body.

this was enough to get clyde's body tingling all over. he was exra sensitive from all the substances he had taken today, so this was just the thing to top it all off.

you started moving your hips against him a little, just trying to get a reaction out of him. and you got exactly what you wanted. he let out a slurred groan as his cock started to harden from all of the buzzing going through his body right then.

you placed a hand on his chest, running it down his body until you got to the area right above his dick. clyde was started to get frustrated at all your teasing, so he finally spoke up.

"alright, enough with the teasing. are we gonna fuck or not?" he asked, his voice having hints of desperation in it. you smiled before whispering. "i dont know, you tell me."

that was all clyde needed to understand that you wanted it just as badly as he did. he decided to just go for it. he cupped your tits in his hands, immediately moving his lips against one of them, biting your nipple gently.

a few moans escaped your lips, your desire growing by the second. you moved your hand to his rock hard cock, moving your thumb around his tip. his dick was extra sensitive at the moment, so he could already feel himself tightening up as he let out a soft groan.

you moved upward on his thigh a little, so that your pussy was at the perfect angle on it. you started to rock your hips against his thigh, moaning softly at the friction. clyde looked at you lovingly, like you were his own personal goddess.

he ran a hand through his hair before moving his fingers to your aching clit, putting some pressure on it as you rode his thigh. you moans became slurred words as you felt you orgasm quickly rushing through you, but you didnt want tonight to be all about you.

you came up from his thigh, grabbing his cock and putting it at your entrance. you looked him in his red eyes. "is this ok?" you said, hoping that he would be alright with it. he nodded eagerly, just as you knew he would.

you took a deep breath before lowering yourself onto his cock, drawing out long moans from him and yourself. his hands found your hips as he started slowly thrusting into you.

"a-ah... c-clyde.. oh god..." you moaned as his cock filled you up to the brim. you began to bounce up and down on him, desperate for some more movement between the two of you.

"oh yeah... just like that, baby.." he whispered, grinning as you started to pick up the pace. he watched your tits as they bounced right in front of his face, making his face turn a little red.

you bit your lip as he cock started hitting a bundle of nerves deep inside you, making you twitch a little every time it hit that spot again. clyde quickly became louder as his sensitive cock was inside of your warm pussy.

you both would continue to speed up, his hips bucking into you as your moans got louder with each thrust. clyde's mouth gaped open as his breathing got heavier by the second.

it didnt take long for you to cum on his dick, your tight walls squeezing the life out of him, but he kept on going. he kept on mercilessly thrusting into you, only wanting to make you feel as good as possible.

his eyes began to cross a little as he felt a twitching sensation running through his torso. he got more vocal as precum started to drip out of him. he continued to speed up his thrusts, making you scream out his name repeatedly like a broken record.

"a-ah, fuck... g-getting real close, baby..." he had done a great job at holding in his orgasm for all this time. he'd felt like cumming ever since you first sat on his lap, so the tension was growing rapidly inside of him.

"oh s-shit... i-im cumming, baby..!" would be his last words as his thrusts grew faster and sloppier, his hands squeezing your ass as tears started flowing down your cheeks at the overstimulation.

a low groan escaped the depths of his core as he spilled all his cum into you, making you feel more full than ever. you couldve sworn that his eyes rolled to the back of his head if your own werent welled with tears.

his thrusts reached lightning speed as he rode out his high, splashing soapy water around both of you. as he finally stopped the abuse on your sore little pussy, he turned you around, watching as cum dripped out of your tight little hole.

he smiled as you sat down on the opposite end of the tub. he reached out to you and pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead. "hope that made your day a little better." he said with a smile as he pulled you into a warm hug.

author's note: this took me a lot longer than it was supposed. clyde is my babygirl, so this one is kinda long. but i hope you all liked this one :)) not proofread yet.

[mirrorpriest]

Creator Reader dropped into Mondstadt

[the description of mondstadt’s wilderness doesn’t fit what’s in game but shhh i’m working from imagination here, POV also gets a little fucky in here bc i started with key scenes i wanted to hit in the story and then started writing for reader immersion]

The waterfall does little to wash away the buildup of oil and grime in your hair, hardly budging the dirt caked to your skin. It’s so different from the warm showers and fragrant soaps you are used to. The cool of the water at least feels good in your mouth, washing down the berries you had been desperately scavenging for the last few days. They were sweet and sour at first, a refreshing treat when you could find them, but the more you ate the more upset your stomach became. You can hardly bear the thought of another handful, but you haven’t seen another person in so long. Only the occasional white bird or wild boar kept you company. You are left to wonder how far from civilization you are. Will anyone find you before you waste away?

Perhaps it’s fortunate, then, that you will die in such a beautiful place. You had never taken the chance to appreciate nature so thoroughly, but the weather in this strange land is cool and temperate, the breeze always carrying the scent of something fresh and light you can’t quite place your finger on. Your head is clear, for once, of any trivial worries like catching the train or when your next shift will be; how much money you’ll be able to make or who at the drug store finds you unattractive. But that’s only because now you are worried about what you’ll catch from drinking the pond water, when you’ll be able to find your next meal, if you’ll ever see your loved ones again. What you wouldn’t give to be able to listen to your mother retell the same stories from her youth you’ve heard a million times. One day, you had simply woken up here. And, perhaps one day, sooner than you would hope, you will fall asleep here for the last time.

So lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice the creatures watching you from the trees until their bodies break through the brush, dark and furry against the green, green foliage. They emerge as one, ambling forward with graceless movements. Your eyes, once upturned to the rushing water, cautiously watch them approach. They stand on two legs, but look nothing like any person you’ve ever seen. Like any beast you’ve ever seen. Your arms fold into your chest, body shrinking at their attention. If not for the matching masks upon their faces, they would be staring unabashedly.

But they are the first sentient beings with the ability to help that you have seen in days, the first thing to find you amidst the thick of the forest, and you smell the burn of a campfire on their fur and tattered clothes as they draw closer. They don’t shy away as you move through the water, waiting at the water’s edge to meet you. The closest one, indistinguishable from the others, steps closer on clawed feet that distort under the clear water. The closer you move, the more monstrous their features seem. Fur covering their bodies, clawed fingers, pointed ears that fold back as you approach, but they make no move to attack. Heads folded down solemnly.

You reach out a cautious hand, finger outstretched to trace the paint across this strange creature’s mask. It stays eerily still, leaning forward for your touch, when the silence is broken by a loud, guttural cry. The furry creatures spring into action, scrambling to turn towards the distant cry, when a large sword comes from the brush and knocks them all back into the water. You startle into the pond, stumbling backwards into the waist-deep water.

There is the swing of metal and the strange cries of the masked creatures, a man in black knocking them all back with little effort. This man speaks in a language you don’t recognize, but you can tell his tone is stern and unyielding. It’s so sudden in the calm of the forest, the first voice you’ve heard in so long, that it rings in your ears. The creatures hardly have the chance to fight back, some raising flimsy, hand-crafted weapons, before their bodies are scattered along the ground. The loud clomping of a heavy creature comes up behind the man, you turn away from the carnage then. The sound of a heavy body taking blows and disgruntled screaming follows, it forces your hands up to cover your ears. Suddenly you long for the worry of finding berries and cleaning away dirt over the worry of who will be merciful towards you in the end. You can’t tell which creature you were close to touching, now among the indistinguishable bodies that litter the bank of the pond. The area falls silent once again. The strange man, who felled the beasts you hadn’t even the chance to meet, stands among the falling clouds of dirt, his brow pinched and mouth open around his heaving breath. His eyes watch you like a hawk, searching your face for… Something. You feel yourself, once again, shrink away at his gaze. His chest is broad, rising and falling in great puffs, and his large hands still clasp the claymore in their grip.

He speaks words you don’t understand, his great weapon vanishing in a shudder of light, as he takes a tentative step closer to you. He’s remarkably pale, made even moreso against the dark clothing he wears. But you know you have no choice but to meet this man halfway, reaching out a hand to be pulled from the water.

To see the water cascading down your skin, glimmering like the brightest gem. Shining and unblemished, the sun reflecting all around you in a way he hadn’t ever allowed himself to imagine. It would be blasphemy to imagine your skin so bare. Flesh like smooth, tumbled stone. This red-haired stranger coaxes for you, a hand reaching towards you, upturned. Contrary to the brutish way he dealt with those strange creatures, he gently wades into the water to take your hand, swinging his long coat around your shoulders. Up close you can see the flush across his cheeks that rivals the red of his hair. You allow this man to lead you from the water up onto the bank so you can retrieve your sullied clothes. You try to ask him where you are, but, again, his brow pinches: this time in confusion. He mutters something low to himself, instead offering his elbow to you. At least this gesture you understand.

You don’t know how long he leads you, keeping his pace measured to your own, before the tree line breaks and you come upon what looks like a farm. The dense forest gives way to grapevines stretching as far as you can see, all carefully line up like dominos, bursting with bright red fruits that make your stomach curl uncomfortably. You’re so desperately hungry for something other than fruit, but above that you are so desperately hungry. You realize what a privilege it is to be picky about what you have to put in your mouth.

The red-haired stranger allows you time to marvel over the rows of grapes, gently coaxing you towards the large manor in the whole big center of it all. It’s only when you’ve moved closer to the large estate that you realize there are other people here, they mill around comfortably and content to live a slow life of vineyard labor. Completely unaware and unknowing to a stranger almost starving to death in the forest they reside.

There are many young women rushing around when the man leads you up the manor steps, but they all stop to dutifully bow their heads at him. They speak the same strange language, quickly snapping to attention when their eyes fall on you. Suddenly you realize how utterly drowned and dirty you look among these perfectly prim maids with their pressed white aprons. You bashfully lower your gaze to avoid their eyes, missing the recognition and, ultimately, the reverence there. The man speaks in a stern voice, almost startling you with how firm his voice suddenly is, gesturing towards a maid who stands above the rest. She is lovely and pleasant, curled brown hair and a practiced smile on her lips. She nods at his words, motioning to take your arm from around his. You sheepishly allow her to lead you into the large manor, fingers folded around the clean black sleeve of her uniform like a child.

She carefully and slowly leads you through the manor and up the steps, unaware of the overstimulated rush to your brain as you try to grasp all that you are seeing and smelling and hearing. Your attention tries to focus entirely on the satisfying click of her polished heels, your aching feet climbing step by step with her’s to a certain door among all the others. Behind it is a lavish bedroom, a bed so tempting you almost move to collapse on it. She cooes soothingly to you, words you don’t recognize but can distinguish as motherly reassurance. You decide to trust her, if only because her brown eyes are warm and clear.

This maid leads you to the bath of the lavish room, instantly removing her arm from your grasp to bustle about. You don’t recognize any of the concoctions or bottles she grasps, focus wandering to your own disheveled appearance in the mirror, until she turns the tap of the large bathtub and there’s a rush of water that quickly steams the glass. It makes your heart leap happily against your ribs, even if you are still quite embarrassed, to think you will finally be getting a warm wash after so long. So ashamed of your own dirty appearance you can’t bring yourself to mind as she helps you remove your soiled clothing, your own skin cleaner than the outfit you wear.

Her hand is steady as she helps you into the bath, lowering you into the steaming water that quickly reddens your skin. But your muscles ache for relief, your sense of self aches for cleanliness. You expect her to leave, but the diligent maid sets to work immediately as you relax. She kneels upon the fluffy cushion beside the bathtub to pour a creamy, fragrant mixture into her palm, thoroughly warming it with her hands before smoothing it along your scalp. She carefully works the mixture and her fingertips through your hairline, massaging the muscles at the base of your head and working up. She presses with measured strength, nails wearing away the build up of skin and sebum from your follicles. You allow your head to loll back into her reliable hands, comforted into complacency.

Adelinde washes at your scalp with a firm touch, the suds dribbling down your strands to fall into the bath water. Her attention is drawn by the slight hairs trailing from the base of your hairline and disappearing down the nape of your unblemished neck, soft and intimate. Her fingers move diligently in a practiced and familiar way, as a carpenter would refine his millionth wooden chair, clearing away all the oil and dirt that had gotten trapped along your scalp and behind your ears. The weight of trying to survive for days in the woods comes crashing down, worked away by this caring maid and her sure hands. Her touch is lighter than ever with you, careful to not tug or nails to scrape along your skin. You are, after all, especially precious company. She brings a pitcher of clear water up to rinse away the soap, her other hand gently tipping back your forehead to avoid your eyes. When she’s satisfied you’re clean, Adelinde works a thicker mixture into your hair, trailing her hands down to the ends where she wicks them of excess water. The conditioner smooths down all the roughness of the accumulated days, soothing your stressed strands back into their natural position.

You don’t notice the other two maids that have arrived until Adelinde helps you out of the tub, standing at the ready for orders to tend to you. One of them has long dark locks held appropriately back by her uniform headpiece. The other is distinguishable by the gemstone on her collar, it shines unnaturally bright. So obvious among the standard outfit of all the maids you’ve seen. Adelinde turns her head just the slightest away from you to address one of the young ladies, who immediately springs away to somewhere past the bathroom door. The other moves around you as Adelinde leads you to sit on the stool before the bathroom mirror, this young lady twitching hesitantly and unsure under the careful watch of the head maid. This new maid seems unsure whether she’s allowed to touch you, hands folded carefully upon her apron. If only you had the means to reassure her.

The maid with the gemstone collar weaves her fingers through your hair, a powerful breeze moved by her fingers and caressing each strand. She moves delicately, careful not to tug too harshly on your scalp. The smell of fresh dandelions and open fields moved by her very will. You want to startle away, look for whatever blowdryer you’re sure she has to be using, but your body still aches and hunger claws away your stomach and reason. You tilt your head back into her touch, the fidgeting of her nervous fingers soothed at your pleased hum.

It's an hour, maybe two, before your hair is dry. The minutes weave together as you blink back sleep, eyelids heavy under the gentle, warm breeze that blows across the skin of your scalp and neck. When you glance in the mirror to look back at the young maid, she catches your eye and gives you a bashful smile, power from her fingers petering out until the breeze has left nothing but a tingle across your nerves. Only when Adelinde orders the maid away and moves to take your hand do you remember she's there.

She leads you, careful and sure, back into the bedroom where you assume you'll finally get some rest, but instead you find clothes laid across the bed. The idea of getting dressed and doing anything else already makes your aching muscles feel weary, but you don't bother to protest lest their hospitality withers away. Not that she would be able to understand you, anyway. You should feel bashful as she dresses you, would if the situation were different, but this maid's touch feels sterile. Like she's dressing a marble statue instead of your body. All your humanity swept away with the dirty water. There's a gentleness to her touch, barely grazing her knuckles across your skin as she buttons the pressed shirt, that borders on cautious. The careful way these maids, even the strange man, have handled you almost puts you on edge. You've never been cared for so tenderly even by those that love you. Surely... Surely, this isn't just because you're a guest. You wish you had the means to ask why they are acting so attentively.

When you step out into the hall together a heavenly scent floods your nose, an impatient rumble coming from your stomach. You can't hurry down the stairs fast enough, trying to restrain yourself to the polite pace Adelinde takes. You're led into a lavish dining room, perfectly fit and furnished for the stately manor, where the red-haired man waits. He's standing, at attention the moment he sees you enter, waiting politely for you to take your seat. As if you were a most important guest. You shuffle on your feet, in borrowed clothes and covered in borrowed scents bestowed by his borrowed maids, hastily sitting when the waiting butler pulls out your seat.

Now... Well, now you wish you hadn't sat down. You are served by the polite and practiced staff, while the red-haired man watches you with what you feel to be an undeserved respect. Plates are set before the both of you, filled to the brim with the most beautiful food you've ever seen. A generosity of choices, from buttered vegetables to succulent meats. You've never seen food so worthy of being called art. Though you two can't converse, he seems content to simply watch you. It makes you slow your eating despite the painful twist of hunger in your stomach, sitting up straighter to appear more worthy of such effort. This man has been so strange since he first laid eyes on you.

You hope he's just altruistically generous when it comes to people in crisis, but you can't help feeling there's something you're missing.

[multifandombitxh]

Bed Time Stories

Pairing: Ghost x Fem!Reader (Ghost's POV, no use of y/n)

Genre: Angst, fluff, enemies to lovers kinda

Warnings: Adult language, a really bad romance novel excerpt that I made up on the spot

A/N: I'm back for like five minutes don't get used to it 🤙 PS would love to write something for a male reader if that's something anyone wants, just sayin'

Ghost had no idea how long this had been going on without his knowledge. In a way, he was a little upset that no one told him about this, especially when Soap knows how he feels about the new recruit. He was completely drawn to her from day one, the moment she stepped foot on base looking like pure sunshine in dirty combat boots. He didn't even know her name before he knew he wanted her- her mind, her heart, her soul... Her body as well, but that was a different issue.

Ghost kept his sweet distance. He knew that the moment he let himself revel in her kindness, it would only make things worse. It was beyond frustrating; he hadn't felt like this toward anyone in- well, ever. He was used to finding people attractive every now and then, sure, but this? This was a whole new ball game for him- and he doesn't even know how to play the game.

He wanted to bring her flowers, watch sunsets with her, ask for her favorite color, her favorite food, favorite movies and books, to know everything she found beautiful or worthwhile in this world. His thoughts were worse at night when he was trying to sleep. What did she look like in the mornings? Does she drink coffee, or tea? How lovely would it be to wake every day with her head on his chest?

He wanted to hold her god damn hand for Christ's sake. What was she turning him into?

Regardless of his softness toward her, Ghost did everything in his power to stay the fuck away. He was mean to her. He was snippy when he didn't have to be, putting her in her place when he felt it necessary. The others would hound him about it; "Go easy on her, Lieutenant." "Why would you say that?" "Maybe you should ease up a bit." But no. Not a snowball's chance in hell would he "ease up" or "lay off".

If he did, he'd melt just at the sight of her smile.

As if he wasn't already doing just that.

Soap noticed it first, the way his Lieutenant's gaze softened as soon as it fell on her, how his shoulders relaxed and his fists unclenched. She was walking stress relief, her smile so perfect and crooked and full. Her warm, inviting eyes shimmered and lit up any time she looked Ghost's way. God forbid he make eye contact with her, it made him weak in the knees. As soon as Soap caught onto this, he tortured Ghost with it day in and day out.

Now, as he stands in the hallway outside of the barracks, his arms crossed and his jaw tight, he listens as she speaks in soft, pronounced sentences, reading from a sappy, cheesy romance novel. Soap was the first to ask her about it- of course he was, he's always looking for ammo to tease the rest of the team with- but she wasn't even slightly embarrassed to tell him she loved romantic literature. Soap asked her to read a few pages to him, thinking it would be hilarious, and so she obliged. Now, a week and some change later, Soap and Gaz sat around with her late into the evening, listening to her read the latest chapter in her silly little book to pass the time.

Ghost's heart ached in his chest as he listened to her, smiling as she occasionally stumbled over her words, lost her place, or changed her tone of voice when speaking for different characters. The sound of her soft laughter nearly brought him to tears when she got to the juicer parts of the story, describing the intimate lives of these fictional people in great detail. Soap and Gaz would laugh along with her, but never once teased her or made fun of her for enjoying herself. It made Ghost feel warm. It made him feel full in his chest.

Soon, he began to focus a little more on the actual story rather than how beautiful the words sounded coming from her lips.

"Meredith watched as the love of her life crossed the small yard, plucking dandelions from the tall grasses and placing them in his woven wicker basket. Her heart was about to burst straight out of her chest and onto the cold, wooden floor, watching him so delicately picking the flowers and setting them aside. His amber hair almost glowed under the golden afternoon sun- he looked angelic in this light. She sighed through her freckled nose, knowing she had found the truest, purest form of love, and never wanted to let it slip from her grasp."

Ghost listened intently as you read that paragraph, snorting to himself. Looks like he and Meredith had something in common.

"How many chapters was that?" Soap asks as she closes the book, placing a bookmark between the pages.

"Only four left," She says with a smile, "Almost to the end."

Ghost feels rotten on the inside as she says that, knowing he'd missed so much of this special little gathering made him feel deep regret for pushing her away. As if driven by this deep sense of remorse, he steps out from the hall, moving into the open doorway and leaning against the frame, his arms remaining crossed. He tries to look angry, intimidating- his usual. Soap and Gaz look up at him, a bit surprised to see him.

"Lt, how long you been there?" Soap asks, standing from his seat and dusting himself off.

"Not long," Ghost lies, shrugging slightly. He looks between Soap and Gaz, not daring to look her way just yet. "You two mind giving us a moment?"

Soap smirks and nods, exchanging knowing looks with Gaz. The two of them thank her for another evening of book club, their soft and sweet voices making Ghost roll his eyes and nearly gag. He watches as they leave, taking their sweet time and discussing the latest chapters. Ghost finally turns to her, doing his damnedest to keep his gaze hard. She can't know, she can't.

"Did you need something, sir?" She asks, her voice much more meek than when she spoke with the others. He takes note of this, wondering to himself if he's made her uncomfortable. She stands from the bunk she was lounging on, placing the book on top of the covers as she straightens out. Ghost forces himself to keep his eyes trained on her face, lest they wander.

"I do, actually," He replies, taking a step toward her. It doesn't take much- his stride is quite large considering his size- for him to stand before her, nearly towering over her like a skyscraper. She looks up at him expectantly, her hands behind her back as she maintains a neutral expression. He misses her smile already.

"You-" He starts, shifting his weight as he tries to find his words. "I think- listen. This... You can't... Do this. Anymore. Whatever it is, it stops here."

Her face drops from neutral to hurt, her brows drawing together as her eyes fill with confusion. "What?" She asks, shaking her head. "I... Can't read? Are you serious?"

Dammit. He did it again. Without even meaning to, he put another invisible wedge between them, when all he really wanted to do was pull her closer. His chest begins to ache, anxiety setting in as he realizes what he's done. But he can't seem to stop himself.

"You can read, Sergeant, just... Not to the others. They have duties," Ghost explains, sounding unsure of himself. She seems to catch on, because soon her face changes from hurt to anger. "I can't have you distracting my men like this."

"You're joking," She scoffs, shaking her head and folding her own arms over her chest. Ghost physically fights the urge to look down. "You can't be serious, Ghost."

"That's Lieutenant to you," He all but snaps, taking another intimidating step forward. Why was he doing this? Why was he like this? His mind races as he tries to stop himself, to put an end to this charade and tell her the truth, to show her even an ounce of kindness. Why was that so hard for him? "Mind yourself if you want to keep your place on this team."

A few seconds pass as there's a pause in the discussion, and she lowers her gaze, nodding a few times. "It won't happen again, Lieutenant," She manages, keeping her eyes to the floor. The tone of her voice sounds like she was just slapped in the face.

Fuck. He's really done it now.

How can he fix this?

"Good," Ghost says quickly, giving her a single nod before he turns his back to her and begins walking away. Every fiber of his being is fighting himself, his heart begging him to turn around and apologize, take her in his arms and make her feel the love he feels for her. Before he reaches the threshold of the doorway, he hears her small voice again, her words striking his heart like a frozen spear.

"What did I do to make you hate me so much..?"

He can't do this. Not anymore.

Not to her.

"Dammit..." Ghost whispers, closing his eyes as he stops in his tracks. He turns on his heel, his heart hammering in his chest so hard it hurts. "I don't... Hate you, Sergeant."

He watches her for a moment, noticing her defeated stance and the way she refuses to look his way, not that he blames her. It kills him inside to know that he caused this- that she's hurting because of his actions. All because he's afraid of letting her in. At this rate, he'll have to physically build a brick wall to keep himself away from her. He was done for.

"I don't understand," She whispers. Her voice wavers, sounding as though she's holding back tears. That nearly rips his heart out of his chest. "I have tried so hard to do my best and do what's right for the team. Everyone seems to have faith in me, except for you. I don't understand what I did wrong, Lieutenant, I don't-"

Without a second thought, he crosses the room to her, taking swift strides as he comes to stand in front of her again. Before she can even blink he holds her face in both of his hands, his palms covering her cheeks and his fingers resting on her jaw. Her eyes go wide, and he's pretty sure he hears her breath catch in her throat.

"I... Am so stupidly in love with you," He confesses in a voice barely above a whisper, the feeling of her soft skin against his calloused hands sending a shiver up his spine. He locks eyes with her, making sure to silently convey with them that he's telling the truth. "I want you... In every sense of the phrase. I want you in the worst way, and I can't... I can't have you."

As she stares up at him with a puzzled expression, his heart rate increases ten fold, the closeness of their bodies suddenly overwhelming his senses. He can smell her, her lovely scent on her clothes and skin. It's intoxicating. He wishes he could bottle it and keep it for himself on lonely nights.

"Ghost-"

"You are the embodiment of everything good in this world, and I... I- I would dirty you if I put my hands on you," He carries on, his thumb stroking her cheekbone so delicately it's almost ghosting over the flesh. His voice breaks as he speaks, as if he's about to lose his composure any moment. "I am trying to keep myself away from you, don't you understand? Everything about you is like a drug I'm hopelessly addicted to and haven't even tried. And I'll never be sorry enough for hurting you, but I'd be hurting you more if I let myself feel this way about you."

As he lays it all out for her, pouring his heart out in phrases that even he didn't think he could formulate, her eyes soften and begin to fill with tears. They glisten beautifully under the dim lights, glossy and lovely and inviting. His breathing becomes uneven at the sight of her, feeling himself fall harder and harder the longer he looks into them. When she leans into his touch and closes her eyes, he almost gasps, completely taken aback by the gesture.

"Maybe I'm not as clean as you think I am," She whispers, each word hitting him hard in the gut. As he tries to process what she means, her hands slip beneath the bottom of his balaclava, slowly but surely sliding it up until his mouth comes into view.

He doesn't even think about trying to stop her when she leans in and presses her perfect lips to his.

The kiss lasts for what feels like milliseconds, leaving him wanting more. So much more. As soon as her lips depart from his, he's wrapping his arms tightly around her waist and pulling her back in, his mouth crashing down on hers once again. The softest sighs escapes into the kiss, though neither of them are sure who started it. Heat builds almost immediately and suddenly Ghost has her in his arms, lifting her into the air with his hands on the backs of her thighs. He pushes her hard against the closest wall, drawing a shocked breath out of her.

Ghost's mind is gone, lost somewhere deep in the corners of his skull while his heart takes control, relishing in the soft sensation of her mouth against his. All bets are off now, and he doesn't care anymore. He wants her. He needs her. Like air, like water, like shelter. She is keeping him alive.

But she's killing him at the same time.

When they finally pull apart from one another, they breathe hard, the air between them hot and heavy. One of her hands holds up his balaclava while the other wraps around his broad shoulders, using them for some leverage as he holds her in the air against the cold wall.

"I'm sorry," She mumbles against his lips, closing her eyes. "I probably shouldn't have done that."

"Probably not," Ghost agrees with a grin, biting down on his lower lip briefly as he takes in the sight of her like this. Breathless, vulnerable. Beautiful. "But I'd expect nothing less from someone who reads those stupid novels."

[mockerycrow]

I SEE YOU EVERYWHERE (Soap x GN!Reader)

soap masterlist

a/n: i wrote this after listening to this song. not proofread LOL enjoy. 984 words! also i’m sorry about how i’m basically non existent. i’m trying, y’all </3

[WARNINGS: MWIII spoilers, major character death, grief, mentions of catholicism. pure angst, hurt/little comfort.]

Sixty-seven days ago. Two months it’s been, approximately nine whole weeks. Estimating around ninety-five thousand minutes and over five million seconds. 

It’s been sixty-seven days since.. You know. You always wake up feeling like it happened sixty-seven seconds ago instead. Your eyes flutter open and you take a breath, inhaling a certain kind of heavy and thick into your lungs. Your chest expands uncomfortably in the morning, your ribs squeezing your lungs a bit tighter than before. Accompanied with the tightness of your chest is this tingling feeling, so slight it’s almost like background noise, just like how the past few weeks have felt. They’ve flown by in a flash, but at the same time, are oh so slow. 

Sometimes, you wake up expecting to see him standing over your sleeping form to wake you up after staying up a tad bit too late because he insisted you do so. So he wasn’t lonely because ‘The LT denied me’, in his words. Sometimes, your eyes are sick and twisted towards you. Your eyes are faster than your brain and you see him. You see his shadow so thick you’re convinced until you reach upwards, your fingers pushing through the dark smoke that enters your lungs after you’ve blinked. 

You’re sure the others have noticed the toll it’s taken, despite your efforts to hide. You know they’re hurting in their ways, too. Being in a tightly packed task force like this, you’re bound to know each other's tells. Part of you wonders who is hurting the most. Is it Gaz? The man who’s been the most logical out of all five four of you. Is it Ghost? The enigma of your group? He’s always been quiet, hard to read. Harder since.. Everything. Maybe it’s Price. He’s the one who actually saw, really. The one who watched him…

…

You feel something in your throat bubble, so you push the thought away. 

Then you come back to it. Maybe it’s you who’s hurting most, being his lover. The person he insisted that was his other half he had been looking for. Maybe that’s you being hopeful and cheesy; maybe it’s you being selfish. You aren’t sure. Honestly, you aren’t sure what you should be feeling, nor are you sure how your teammates should be reacting. There’s five stages of grief and everyone’s path looks different. 

Denial – you aren’t sure who you think denial is at first. Symptoms are fear, avoidance. What happened, you can’t avoid it. Not really when he was so integral to the team. Is. He never stopped being. After a few days of people watching, you’ve decided it’s you. You wanted to put it onto someone else at first, maybe Gaz—perhaps Ghost. They’re still.. Living. Going through the motions, at least. But you had to look at yourself late at night, around two forty-five am to ask, “are they the one’s waking up thinking he’s standing over them?”

No. They are not. It’s you. Of course it’s you.

Next—anger. You debated this one, of course it was tied between Ghost and Price but after Shepherd died, of course the Captain took that title with no question. There is a major difference between peaking into the gym, watching Ghost gasp for air after a night full of boxing and then hearing through Laswell the General has been killed. Major difference, indeed. It’s not often your Captain loses his cool and when he does, it’s for good reason. He deserved it, you only wish Price was more cruel.

Bargaining? It’s a no brainer, you decided as soon as you thought of it. Gaz. None of the men cry much, but it wasn’t a surprise when you found Gaz sitting on the steps outside of the temporary base, smoking a cigarette with misty eyes paired with a lost look. A look where he wasn’t completely there; lost somewhere, maybe in thought, maybe back in that moment. In the moment where he had to ignore his mutilated body to focus on the bomb. On the fact that Makarov was getting away. He lit a second cigarette.

Maybe it doesn’t quite fit him, but Ghost was the last one to decide for. Depression is what you ended up assigning him. There’s not many words for how you could describe him. Ghost’s been flighty, quiet yet hostile. He never means to snap at any of you of course, you all know it. You can tell from the heavy, long look he gives you after snarling at you like a cornered dog. He’s just sad and scared, something you can understand on a deeper level. With him, it feels like beckoning a wolf with bits of meat—a wolf who isn’t afraid to bare his teeth. You’re willing to get bit.

Then… what’s left?

Oh, yeah. 

Acceptance. Left for the one who is forever missing.

In a way, it feels wrong. You know he’ll never be able to move on like the rest of the world can. It feels even worse when you realize only a select amount of people will know about his death—the world won’t know who he is. Work in the dark to serve the light, hm? What a fucked world. After spreading his ashes across the hills, it feels like he’s become one with the Earth. Maybe that’s his form of acceptance; going back to what housed him. The green roots and blue skies. The rain that pours down over the ruined cities you’re crawling through, the beautiful stars and planets above you during a late night in God knows where. You see him everywhere.

You hope God is taking care of him, as you rub your fingers over his cross necklace. The last thing you have left of him; his dog tags sitting in a memorial on base. You may or may not believe, but Johnny sure did. And you know, somewhere deep down, he’s alright.

🏷️; @kivino @soapybutt17 @microwavedcheetos @frazie99 @narcolepticduck @ch3rrykoolaid @kimdiedlater @glossysoap @thisuserloveshalloween @indefenseofkara @mushr00mf00d @lieutenantlashfaz @fiveshotsofjager @queen-leviathan @specter319 @theunplannedvariable @spacelia @1117sblog @snoowply @dumb-fawkin-bitch @abigatorchomp

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[barleyo]

Shower Head.

Recom! Miles Quaritch X Fem! Reader (smut)

A/N: Sorry if this seems a little rushed! I hope you all enjoy it. By the way, I’m slowly figuring out how to set up a proper tag list, as I’ve noticed a few people have been asking to be put on one, so don’t be afraid to comment or message me, and I’ll be sure to add you in for my future works!

Worcount: 1.6K

Tags: Shower sex, inappropriate use of a shower head, water pressure play, humiliation, human reader, interspecies sex, human x Recom Na’vi, p in v, slight nipple play

Tagged Users: @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

(Y/N) rarely used the RDA Base’s gym, as it was occupied by the recombinant soldiers and the colonel during the day, and she would have hated to bother them. She would usually steer clear from it, until she decided to start going at night. Nobody was ever there, and it was convenient for her to head to the small gym after her day in the lab and after eating her dinner. It was also especially nice that the gym had its own single shower that she could use and have all to herself in the later hours of the night.

After one of her late-night sessions, (Y/N) made her way into the bathroom in the back of the gym, connected to it by a door. It was small, only having enough room for a shower and dresser to place her shoes, clothes, bag, and towel on. Digging through her bag, she grabbed a bar of soap and a white washcloth, and softly closed the door, forgetting to twist the lock.

She hummed as the hot water hit her skin. Her entire body was aching and sweaty; the water felt like heaven. She ran her hands over her body, feeling her wet skin. Taking her soap and washcloth, she lathered herself in soap, forming little bubbles all over her body. (Y/N) massaged her soapy, strained limbs, still tense from her exercise. 

She rinsed herself and went to turn the water off until she eyed the shower head. She thought about doing it since her first trip to the gym, the second she noticed that it was detachable. 

“Hm, just this once,” she said to herself. It had been a while since she had been able to touch herself, so she thought it would be alright. What better time than now? She had privacy in the shower at least, unlike in her shared dorm.

Pulling the nozzle down, she fidgeted with the settings. She found a strong, almost pulsating option. She steadied herself against the wall, lifting one of her legs to rest it on a shelf. Her hand was shaky as she aimed the water to hit her clit. She didn’t know if the pressure was too powerful, or if she was too needy from her recent lack of pleasure, but at that moment, it did not matter to her. All that mattered was the sharp coil that was tightening in her stomach.

“Hello?” Loud banging on the door sounded in the room, the voice sounding muffled. “God damn it, hurry up in there.”

(Y/N) dropped the shower head out of shock, clenching her thighs together when the friction of the water against her clit was lost. She cursed under her breath. “Yeah, one second,” she hollered over the sound of the water.

She quickly aimed the water back to her cunt, feeling how close she was. She sighed as the water hit past her lips, landing directly onto her swollen bud. 

While (Y/N) continued, Miles grew impatient while standing outside of the door, only wearing a towel around his waist. He beat the door again, not hearing a response from the other side. It was late, and all he wanted was to shower and head to his own bed.

Usually, he would have just used the communal showers, but the gym was much closer to his room, and he was too exhausted to go any further than he needed to go. 

“What a fucking asshole,” Quaritch said to himself, still banging on the door. “Hurry up.”

He tried to twist at the doorknob, and to his surprise, it was unlocked. His eyes widened and he slipped into the room. He opened his mouth to tell (Y/N) off until he heard something from behind the curtain. His ears went back as he listened closely. A small whine came from the girl, ragged and breathless. 

Smirking to himself, he crept his hand to the curtain and suddenly pulled it to the side. 

“What the fuck?!” (Y/N) exclaimed, throwing the shower head at Miles. “Colonel Quaritch, what the fuck are you doing? Get out!”

His eyes scanned over her body, paying special attention to her soaked thighs. “So, this is what you were doing?” He caught the nozzle and aimed it at the floor of the shower.

“What? What are you talking about?” She grabbed the curtain and covered her body with it, poking her head out to talk to him, face warm and looking thoroughly embarrassed.

“While I’m out there freezin’ my ass off, you’re in here getting your rocks off with a shower head? Really?” He asked, teasingly, enjoying as her face reddened at his words. “That desperate?”

“I am not desperate,” she said with a shaky breath. 

“Yeah, well, that ain’t what it sounded like.” He grabbed her towel and handed it to her. “Now, if you’d get out, I’d appreciate taking a shower of my own. That is, if there’s any hot water left after what you been up to.”

Shrinking away from his gaze, she took the towel and wrapped it around herself, got out and walked over to the door. She held the doorknob and quickly turned around to offer an apology. Her eyes caught a look at his large body. Miles spared no time dropping his towel. Getting in nearly the second (Y/N) got out, he was reaching to close the curtain when he saw her eyes on him.

She stared at him for a few seconds, unsure on what to do as her eyes naturally fell to his length. She brought her eyes back up to be met with Quaritch’s eyes on her as well. 

“You havin’ fun over there? Maybe you should take a picture, it’ll last you a lifetime.” 

She opened her mouth but had nothing to say to him in response. 

“Hm? What, you embarrassed that I caught you lookin’? That’s alright, you can look. Or maybe you wanna come over here and touch instead?”

(Y/N) crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling more exposed than when she was actually naked. “No, it’s just–”

“Just that you’re still worked up? C’mere.” Quaritch reached his arm out to her in the small room and grabbed her hand and pulled her into the shower with him. Pulling her towel off, he threw it on the floor. 

She let him trap her in his arms, feeling her back flush against his chest. 

“Mean of me to interrupt you earlier, huh?” He took the nozzle and slowly inched it over to her cunt, barely hitting the outside of it with the stream. “Can I make it up to you?”

“Mhm, yes,” she said, leaning her head back into his chest, inadvertently swaying her hips and catching his dick with her ass. 

“Hold still,” Miles said, gripping (Y/N)’s thigh with his big hand, keeping her in place while he brought the surge of water in between her legs. He felt her leg tense under his hand and removed it, instead bringing his hand up to her chest. He took a nipple and rolled it between his thumb and index finger.

When he drew circles over her clit with the water, (Y/N)’s hips were quick to follow, chasing the feeling she had been itching for. 

“Can you–?” 

“Hm?”

“Inside? Can I take you inside of me?”

He chuckled and pushed her body forward a bit, just enough to be able to angle himself into her walls. She winced at the stretch, although the pressure from the shower head had made her wet, his cock still made for a tight fit in her. 

Quaritch attached the head to its proper spot and turned his focus on using the pads of his fingers on her clit. He ran his fingers jaggedly over the nub, roughly dragging over it while lurching deeper into her. His thrusts were shallow and teasing, barely letting her sink to the halfway mark of his length before pulling out.

(Y/N) yelped as his thrusts became rougher and more indulgent. Drops of water and slick dripped down her thighs and pooled to the floor every time he pulled out, slowly leaking out of her like a faucet. 

“I can feel how you’re tensing up on my cock,” Quaritch groaned. “Gonna cum soon, I know you are. You needy lil’ thing.”

“Yes, need you so bad,” she sobbed, eyes watering from her approaching climax.

His circles on her clit became messier, and his pace was rushed. The sound of his skin slapping against hers mingled with the high, breathy moans and nonsense sentences that came from (Y/N). 

“Fuck, hold still.” He pulled out and fisted his cock, pumping it quickly. Miles hissed and bit his lip, his sharp teeth drawing blood. Finally, thick spurts of cum painted the back of (Y/N)’s thighs. “Christ…”

Her hands traveled down to her own heat. “Colonel, I’m close–” she whined and felt her legs tense up when she came. Her eyebrows knitted together as she bit back a moan, instead focusing on trying to hold herself up while her cunt still fluttered and clamped around nothing. “Mmph..”

A still panting Miles wiped his cum off of her and grabbed her towel, wrapping it over her shoulders. 

“Go a-ahead and get outta here, girl,” his chest heaved as he spoke, “I actually have to shower now.”

“You know, I could possibly stay with you and help you get cleaned up,” she said, half-asking.

He shook his head and smiled, placed a hand on her shoulder, turned her around and pushed her out of the shower. Miles swatted her ass lightly to send her off.

“Cleaned up? Any shower with you would just make me feel dirtier. Maybe next time. See you later, hun.”

[johnnycagestrophy]

CAN YOU DO SOAP X GHOST PLS PLS PLS PLS PLS PLS PLS PLS PLS PLS PLS PLS PLS PLS PLS PLS PLS PLS :333333

BRO IS EAGER!! of course I can! I also love them dearly. MW3 isn't real in this household. I'm going to use their call signs so its easier to understand! - When they first got together physical touch was mostly something Ghost wouldn't really partake in anything except hand holding and a awkward side hug. But, when Soap warmed him up to the idea of doing more things like that (cuddling, and leaning against each other more), he grew fond of it and began to look forward to when they could cuddle more in private areas. - I feel like Soap has a issue with fidgeting to much during really serious meetings so Ghost gets some fidget toys that are quiet so no one else gets distracted by them. Soap's favorite one's are the fidget spinners and foam foods. - They help each other patch up their smaller wounds. It's a quiet bonding activity so they can wind down from missions. It also helps them with knowing the other one isn't lost or dead. - When they move in together Soap would leave little sticky notes around for Ghost and they would all be little affirmations and words of encouragement. (ex; 'you got this L.T! :)') Ghost would softly huff and stick them in his pocket with a small smile. - They train together! They also listen to the same music when they do. This would also be another bonding activity! Punching or just working out they do it together. Even if one of them have to leave a little earlier then expected. Training and working out together are their ways to have secret dates that no one would suspect. (Price and Gaz would know.) - Soap and Ghost help each other if either of them are having a bad mental health day. They would help each other drink water or at least eat something small. If they're both having a bad day they help each other through it. - When they do laundry at their shared place they mix up their clothes sometimes, but its really rare. Ghost is usually the first person to notice because of the weird designs that don't look like his original shirt. Soap just laughs and swaps the shirt back with him or any other piece of clothing. (He probably takes Ghost's sweatshirts and acts like he's 'borrowing' them.) - Sometimes when they stay up late at night, they slow dance in the kitchen. It doesn't matter if music is playing or not. Soap always manages to get Ghost to slow dance with him for a few minutes. - They cook and share food together! They make random comfort dishes together for each other. They also drink together when they don't have to go back to work for a while. Soap is the one that gets really drunk while Ghost knows his limits.

[shotmrmiller]

Just, ah.. Just gonna.. *slips little brainrot worm into a DVD player* There. Please enjoy what has been on my mind for literal days now. SelfAware!Gaz and a SelfAware!Reader, by the way.

You'd noticed that Gaz hadn't been himself lately, always veering off from the groups in favor of being alone. "Just somethin' on my mind, love. Nothing to worry your head about." Really.. He should know by now that you can sniff out bullshit from a mile away.

He was always his cheerful, sarcastic self as you all talked and interacted before the game was switched on to play online matches. You often sat there with a smile as he joked with Price or goofed off with Soap after getting Ghost nice and miffed about being annoyed. However, when the game was turned on, that's when his mood switched. Almost like a switch, his smile morphed into something tight, something forced and faked to appear his usual. Then it just disappeared altogether as matches were played, lost or won.

You were never a popular choice as an Operator, had come to accept that, and just enjoyed the time spent deep in the hidden rooms of the lobby with the other unchosen, often forgotten individuals. But you could see that the attention that Ghost or König got, constantly a top choice within lobbies, had a negative effect on Gaz's mood. You watched as his face fell further the more that he was left behind, often forgotten about. It hurt every part of yourself to see him this sullen..

One day, you decided that enough was enough, that you needed to expose the root of his upset and let him rant. Sitting beside him as a long match started, away from all the rest of the chattering and mingling, you spoke with a soft, gentle lilt. "Kyle, you've been getting distant. You don't have to talk about it, not right away.. But please know that I'm here for you. Whatever is on your mind, I'll always listen."

The silence that followed your words wasn't tense, not completely. There was a hesitation flitting the atmosphere around the both of you, but there was no real tension. It took minutes, five tops, before the man even spoke. "I... I feel like.. I'm never good enough. Not like Ghost, not like König.. They're remembered. Ghost and König even got new skins and more in the making... And here I am, barely remembered.."

The words stung, worse than any wound you could have ever sustained in a match. Hearing what he thought of himself, how the real people made him feel... It truly hurt. "It makes me think of why I even serve a purpose in the storyline.. And I might be a selfish git for this, but.. But, Christ, I'm the main character.. Is it so wrong for me to want just.. just a little more love?"

The way his face twisted into a poorly hidden grimace of sadness, the telltale shimmering of unshed diamond tears before he tucked close to himself, arms wrapped around his legs pulled tight to his body. All of it. It fucking hurt.

Taking a deep breath, gathering your thoughts and your feelings, collecting them all in a cohesive stack, you then let the breath out before your words. "Oftentimes.. those who should be remembered are forgotten, lost amongst stories and collections of the actions around them rather than of them. I'm becoming poetic, sure, but it's true. People are easily distracted by things or other people that are outside of their perceived normal. They're like cavemen, really. 'Ooh, ooh! Big man, scary mask! Big man, big man!'"

You smiled when you managed a soft chuckle from him, watching as he wiped his face against his knees. Likely swiping away stray tears. "Diamonds in the rough effect, I think. They pay too much attention to a jewel not meant to be polished but pay so little attention to the emerald sat centerpiece amongst them. But the few who give their attention to the emerald, they tend to cherish it so much more. They protect it, care for it, make sure that it's never forgotten about."

Reaching over, you gently took his hand in your own, gaining more of his attention as he finally turned his head to look at you and saw your glimmering grin. "Gazzybear, you're not forgotten about. You matter to all the right people. You're beloved by those who truly care, who speak up and make sure you're never forgotten. You don't need a million men to make an army, and you certainly don't need a million men to show you that you're loved and cherished. Your following might be smaller than the rest, but I assure you that they are mighty."

You both sat there as he stayed silent, taking in your words and your meanings, soaking them all in as he processed it all. It didn't take long until you saw that gorgeous, gleaming smile of his once again. The sun originated from that smile, was created from it, yet the sun could never be as warm as that smile. "Thank you. You're real fuckin' great with words. I needed that."

You huffed a laugh, the corners of your eyes creasing as your own smile broadened along your lips. "No thanks needed or required, Kye. It's always good to be reminded by the facts. And you're too good of a man to ever forget about the love and support you have. After all, I'm your number one fan and cheerleader."

NO ONE LOOK AT MEEEEEE

ID PICK GAZ EVERYTIME!!!!

in MW1, he had to be bought through the operator bundle, which is fucking BANANASSSS.

someone needs to give me some answers.

beautiful, wonderful, im gonna go cry about this now ty

smother him with love and kisses and ride hi—

ahem.

i love this. truly. im grateful for you sharing this in my inbox.

[spiderfunkz]

✧.* hold me close

— summary : when lost in darkness, peter looks for his light.

— pairings : tasm!peter parker x gn!reader

— word count : 0,9k

— warnings : angst, hurt to comfort, mutual pining kinda, eventual friends to lovers, kissing mwa mwa, peter & reader are roomates and share an apartment, mentions of self doubt and wounds, sad peter :(

a/n : based off of 1999 by beabadoobee but i skipped a lyric whoops. also sorry this is so messy lolz 🐟🐟 this is blurb is kinda similar to this but with moreeeee angst. not proofread btw

🎵 hold me close,

being spiderman was never easy. it came with all different responsibilities that peter parker had to face, and most of the time it was too much for him.

you knew peter's secret identity. well by accident, one day just finding him at 2 am, opening the fridge in his red and blue suit with his mask in his mouth.

since then you made a promise with him, to look out for each other. to have his back, even when it's hard for him to have yours.

🎵 and say you care,

it was a usual night, you had just finished your presentation and essays for the week so you decide to watch a tv show while waiting for peter to finish his patrol.

an episode went by, and another, and another.

that's when your hear the knock on your window and peter's silhouette peaking. he has his mask off and you can see the tiredness on his face.

🎵 because i'm in love with your brown hair,

you open the window and catch him as he nearly falls on the floor. "hey i got you." you guide him to a chair and sit him down before rushing to the bathroom and getting the first-aid kit.

you clean the dirt from his face, and fix his messy hair from the rough wind outside. you two sat in comfortable silence as you clean him. you hide the worry in your face, not wanting to pressure him with questions.

but peter notices you, your body language. how your hand shakes when you grab the hand towel, how your eyes seemed concerned, almost scared.

🎵 the way you touch me is a curse,

peter presses his forehead against yours, keeping you close to him.

you finish up with his wounds and push the first-aid kit aside.

you look at him, he observes you. he wishes he can just hug you and never let go. he wishes he wasn't spiderman. he wishes you to be happy and not worry every time he goes on a patrol. he wishes you feel the same for him so he could just kiss the pain away.

you wish happiness for peter. you wish for him to be safe every time he goes on a patrol. you wish you could be there whenever he needs it. you wish he'd feel the same for you. you wish to hold his hand and kiss his pain away.

🎵 and i'm not willing to let it all hurt,

"do you wanna talk about your patrol?" you ask softly, face saddening.

his heart aches hearing your voice, how it sounds like its gonna break any second now.

he shakes his head.

"okay, i'm just letting you know i'm here okay? if you wanna talk about it i'm always here to listen." you state.

he wishes he could tell you all the things that has been happening lately, how he wishes he could be the happier version of himself, the version who's always in the mood to ramble about the missions he's had, the version that can always find light in darkness.

now he's just lost in the darkness, and you're the light.

🎵 watch your mouth and wash with soap,

"i'm sorry." he says, eyes teary.

"don't apologize, you have nothing to apologize for peter." you reassure him, hand cupping his cheeks.

"i'm sorry that i always come home like this, i'm sorry that you have to stay up for me, i'm sorry that i always miss our movie nights, i'm so sorry-" — "peter don't you dare apologize. you protect this city and i am so proud of you, i don't mind patching you up pete, i will always be here for you okay? i care for you." you cut him off, your tone stern.

🎵 cause i just hate the way you spoke,

"you got that?" he nods.

there was another moment of silence. a moment where peter realizes that you care for him so much more that he can imagine. a moment where you just want to hold him close and reassure him.

"you care for me?" he asks, he needs to be so sure. "yes peter. trust me if i can take away all the pain your feeling i would. and i won't care how that makes me feel as long as your happy."

🎵 and i'm not willing to give it all up,

peter pauses.

he knew you cared for him like no other, but he never processed how much you cared for him.

he hesitates but the tension grew almost suffocating him.

he thought about confessing everything to you. how you make him feel like flowers are blooming in him, how he melts into the slightest touch from you, how he thinks you have the most kissable face ever.

🎵 and i'm not wasting time again,

peter kisses you.

you could feel all the emotions in him wash away, how he melts under your touch.

"i love you y/n. and i'm sorry that i never showed you enough of that. i wish to be with you every time i couldn't. i wish i could spend more time you. i wish i could just hold you close every time i see you worry for me." he rambles, smiling, hands cupping your cheeks.

"i love you too peter." you chuckle, "but don't ever apologize again okay." you kiss his hand.

[mariaofdoranelle]

Look at Us Now - ch. 14

Fic masterlist

Am I posting this at 4 a.m. because I left my fic half-ready and wasted hours commenting “chop chop movie boy” on TikTok? Yes, yes I am. Tomorrow (today?) is a holiday in my state so I’m fine loll

Hope you like this!

Warnings: language, postpartum depression, panic attack

Words: 6,2k

Throughout her entire pregnancy, Aelin promised herself she’d never be the type of new mom who doesn’t shower every day.

How wrong she was.

They had an appointment at the doctor in an hour and Maisie was currently on the other side of the shower’s glass door, screaming bloody murder from her baby swing as Aelin rinsed off her body as fast as she could, feeling her breasts leak because of the crying baby while her ribcage got tighter each second.

She wrapped the towel around her body while kneeling to grab her crying baby. Except that Maisie didn’t stop crying.

“Are you hungry, Mais?” Aelin felt silly sometimes when talking to her newborn, but most days her six-weeks-old baby was the only person willing to listen to her.

She didn’t bother taking her towel off before sitting to nurse her loud baby. She could barely think when Maisie was screeching like she had adult-sized lungs, let alone pick an outfit.

When the baby latched and the room got silent, Aelin felt like she could finally breathe. “You like that, huh?” She watched Maisie’s wide green eyes on her, an overwhelming feeling of emptiness taking over her. “I think your dad forgot to prep my lunch this morning, but that’s alright, because there was frozen pizza in the freezer.” Aelin gasped in the end, always keeping her tone dramatic to grab Maisie’s attention. “You can’t eat pizza yet, Mais, but you’ll love it. I hope your milk comes in pizza flavor after my lunch. You won’t know what hit you.”

After nursing and burping the baby, Aelin was well aware she had less than thirty minutes to get to the doctor. Which was why she cursed under her breath while noticing the soap around her calves she forgot to rinse off.

Aelin straightened her shoulders. No biggie. It was just some soap.

She left Maisie on her bassinet and ran to the bathroom. Wincing, she held her ankle and placed it on the sink. Not the safest option, but definitely the fastest. She opened the faucet, spreading the running water on her leg, when Maisie’s tiny wail—for now—remembered her there was no such thing as ‘just a minute’ when you’re a newborn’s mom. She leaned away just a bit, her feet still on the sink while the other supported her body, neck stretching so she could take a peek through the open door—

Aelin lost her balance, falling on her ass in the middle of her suite’s bathroom.

She winced on the floor, her hip aching from the tumble. She flexed her hands, reddened from breaking the fall, and got up. Her walk was stiff, but still enough for her to hobble towards her crying baby.

“Hey, Mais,” Aelin soothed while getting the bags they needed for their trip to the doctor—how long did they have? She opened the bedroom door—

The smell of something burnt hit her senses.

No, no, no.

She dropped their bags on the floor and ran to the kitchen, turning off the oven before she could reach a cloth to open it.

Her flat rock still resembled a pizza, but it was far from edible.

The smell must’ve gotten worse after she emptied the oven, because one moment Aelin was staring slack-jawed at her burnt lunch, and the next her baby was retching over her shoulder, smearing Aelin’s back and hair with vomit.

Her breath caught as she processed what just happened, the back of her eyes prickling while she felt a heaviness—

It was okay. She slowly sank down to the floor, never letting her baby go. Her heart was beating out of her chest, and she didn’t know if the soothing sounds she was making were for Maisie or for herself.

She barely had time to shower twice a week, let alone twice a day.

Tears streamed down Aelin’s face, but she swallowed down the sob that was begging to break free. Instead, she clutched Maisie to her chest and breathed in.

It wasn’t the first time she got covered in baby vomit, nor would it be the last.

Breathe out.

She could do this.

Breathe in.

With shaky hands, she took her dirty shirt off.

Breathe out.

Aelin’s stomach churned, and she felt like she might throw up herself. But the kitchen cloth was still near her, so she swallowed her feelings down and used it to wipe the vomit off her hair.

Breathe in.

From the kitchen floor, it felt like the cabinet and counter were closing in on her.

Breathe out.

She would not have a meltdown in front of her baby.

Aelin took her phone, fingers trembling as she dialed the only number she could think of.

“Aelin! I wasn’t expecting to hear from you now. Is everything alright, dear?”

“Philippa.” Aelin’s voice was wobbly, but the older woman’s warm tone was enough to make a small part of her body loosen up. “Do you have any leftovers I can eat now?”

“There’s lasagna in the fridge, and…” A pause. “Honey, it’s mid-afternoon. When was the last time you ate?”

“Lasagna sounds perfect.” Aelin’s voice cracked in the end. “When can I pick it up?”

“Um.” The background noise was pretty indistinct, with the exception of a door closing. “Why don’t I hand it to you instead? I could also see what I can do with that empty fridge of yours.”

“Thanks,” Aelin said before ending the call. Still seated on the floor, she leaned against the cabinet, her head drooping against it.

Aelin didn’t remember a lot about her parents, but she remembered how they always looked like this strong, unbreakable unit, ready to catch her fall. She could deal with the exhaustion and constantly feeling like she’s on the verge of breaking down. The thing that was hard to grasp was how powerless she felt. Worthless.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” Aelin’s chin quivered while she stroked Maisie’s cheek with her thumb. “You deserve so much better than this.”

Me was the word Aelin couldn’t say, but never left her mind. Maisie deserved so much better than a mom who never got things right and was sad all the time.

She was feeling so much and at the same time nothing at all, as if she was a hollowed out tree about to break down. Too much to carry, not enough strength. Aelin clutched her daughter against her chest and let that sob break free, its force enough to shake her from the inside out, from her straining heart to her quaking shoulders.

Taking a moment to breathe, Aelin was finally calming herself down. She could weep and feel the pain, but she would not collapse. Not with Maisie. Aelin was doing this for her, with her.

And that’s how Philippa found her, perched on the floor and holding her baby like she was her lifeline.

“Come on, honey, get up,” the soft, familiar voice came from near her, its source kneeling beside her and gently reaching for her shoulder.

“Shh.” Philippa kissed the crown of Aelin’s head, then winced at the smell of vomit. “We need lasagna, a new shirt, baby wipes for the hair. What else?”

“I have a hair tie in my bag, I think that’s all.” Aelin slowly got up, her hip still sore from when she fell in the bathroom. “I have an appointment at four, Rowan will be here any time now.”

”Honey, it’s ten past four.”

“No, it’s not.”

Aelin froze. Her heart had barely rested, it was already going a mile a minute again. She ran past Philippa, put on the first shirt and shoes she saw—Rowan’s White Hawks jersey and those damned Crocs—and grabbed her car keys. Knowing how the Air Force hospital worked, if she missed this appointment, her next one would be only when Maisie was eighteen.

“Wait!” Philippa shouted, running her way. “I’ll drive.”

Aelin’s shoulders dropped when she saw the baby wipes and lunchbox on the woman’s hand and realized her intentions. “You’re an angel.”

Before fastening Maisie to her car seat, Aelin looked straight into the little girl’s eye and said, “Don’t poop.”

She rushed to the passenger seat and was cleaning her hair as much as she could with the baby wipes before Philippa could even get out of the garage.

”Where’s Rowan?” the older woman asked.

“He was supposed to go to the appointment with me, I think he got stuck at work.”

It was unusual of him to miss something like this. Aelin didn’t know what to think, and she didn’t have much space in her mind for that right now.

With a tight jaw, Philippa hummed, and her tone revealed everything she was thinking. Aelin couldn’t blame the woman, but she didn’t agree either. This was just one mistake, Rowan was incredible with Maisie. And about him with Aelin… she wasn’t sure where she fit into his life, and sometimes she didn’t want to know.

They hadn’t been the same, and that was predictable. There was no reason to be sad. Rowan was all loving and attentive towards her because his baby was inside her. Now that she wasn’t carrying Maisie anymore, they were the platonic co-parents they agreed to be. Aelin’s throat was as thick as her chest was heavy every time she thought about this. She couldn’t blame him. If roles were reversed, she wouldn’t get anywhere near herself either.

Satisfied with her work on her hair, she tied it into a bun and opened the lunchbox. Aelin swallowed down all the lasagna she could before Philippa parked at the hospital, which was five minutes away from her home.

“I’ll go back to your place and see what I can do in that kitchen, okay? Call me if you need me to pick you up.”

She wrapped her arms around Philippa, hugging her with all the strength she could muster right now. “Thank you.”

On her way to the office, she managed to avoid co-workers seeing her in that disheveled state and texted Rowan.

Aelin: hey

Aelin: i’m at the hospital already

Aelin: what happened?

No response.

”Dr. Galathynius!” The sergeant responsible for Sorscha’s schedule sighed in relief. “I was about to send another patient in.”

She hurried inside the office, only relaxing when her doctor started the examination. Aelin still wasn’t used to seeing her co-workers checking her vagina and everything postpartum-related, but the Air Force’s healthcare was good enough to make her put up with it.

Her pelvic floor seemed okay, though. So did her posture—something Aelin took particular pride in, being an orthopedist. Her abdominal muscles weren’t as good, but that was easy to deal with.

“You lost more weight than I expected.” Sorscha frowned. “How’s your appetite since giving birth?”

“I don’t have much of an appetite anymore, but I still feel hungry when I should.”

The doctor’s attention was fully on Aelin now. “And how have you been feeling emotionally?”

“Good. Just a little tired,” she lied. Medical confidentiality vow or not, Aelin knew how stigma worked. She knew better than to tell a coworker that one of the hospital’s top surgeons was mentally ill.

Besides, Aelin was a doctor herself, she knew how this went. Major Depressive Disorder. In remission and off antidepressants for two years. Relapsed with postpartum depression after childbirth. The words were buzzing around her head like an annoying fly, but they wouldn’t leave, no matter how much she swatted them away.

Maybe it was time to un-ghost her psychiatrist.

~~

When she left the office, Aelin had her purse and a giant diaper bag under her arms, plus Maisie strapped to a baby sling on her chest, but she still walked past a dejected-looking Rowan on her way out. He got up in a heartbeat and hurried to match her steps.

“I’m sorry.”

He held out a hand, but she didn’t give him the diaper bag.

“I know you are,” Aelin said in a carefully neutral tone.

“Can you at least give me the bags?”

She ignored Rowan’s request and stormed off in front of him.

His car was right by the exit, and as stubborn as she was, Aelin wasn’t going to disturb Philippa further and ask the woman to pick her up as she suggested.

Aelin wasn’t in the right mind to decide if her reaction was proportional or not to what Rowan did, but given the emotional distress she was already in, it probably wasn’t.

Rowan’s thoughts on how rational Aelin was being was the least of her concerns today.

“One of the majors called me for a last-minute meeting. I tried to be quick.”

But I couldn’t leave because they outrank me were the words he didn’t say.

“I can still be mad about it, your fault or not.”

“I’m so—“

“Stop it, Rowan.”

He darted a glance at her, and something about her face made him stay silent for the rest of the drive.

At home, Rowan dropped her bags by the door—she had calmed down enough to let him carry them this time—and her shoulders relaxed considerably when sat on the couch and took Maisie off the sling.

“Oh, that doesn’t smell good.” Aelin cooed, smiling at the baby and tickling her little belly.

“I’ve got her.” Rowan held Maisie up with a small smile, not even sparing Aelin a glance. “You can take a shower in the meantime.”

She grimaced, her face hotter by the second. Way to go, Aelin. Was she still smelling like vomit?

“Not like that!” He blurted. “I know you’re struggling to take showers—“

“Good to know it’s that obvious,” Aelin scoffed, getting up from the couch.

”I’m sorry—“

“I know you are, stop telling me that!” Her voice came out higher than intended while she left for the kitchen.

Rowan finally got home and was assured that Aelin managed to not kill his baby. It’s not like he needed her for the rest of the day.

The kitchen was a lot cleaner than before, and there was a note attached to the fridge.

I made you chicken, chickpea salad and chocolate cake, but I’d suggest you to save it for tomorrow’s lunch. Make sure your baby daddy doesn’t forget to make dinner as well.

Love,

Philippa.

P.S: Please call me if you need anything. Your uncle’s gay ass can take of himself.

Aelin leaned against the counter, her body filling with warmth. God, she loved Philippa. And as much as she appreciated the woman’s kindness, her job was to help Orlon and Darrow at home, not Aelin.

Still, it was really nice to have some time to breathe during the day, not only in the few hours when Rowan got back from work.

“What’s that?” He stopped in front of the fridge, frowning as he read Philippa’s note. “I didn’t forget to make your lunch.”

Rowan scratched his jaw and opened the fridge. Aelin drew out a long, tired breath. She wouldn’t even bother enlightening him, he’d soon realize what happened and—

”Aelin, I’m so sorry.”

She rested her head in both hands and dragged them through her hair. There wasn’t a bone in her body that didn’t feel heavy, and her eyelids were the heaviest sometimes. She was so fucking tired.

Aelin crossed her arms. “You fucked up. I fucked up twice as much today. Can you please stop apologizing?”

He took her fingers with the tips of his, fiddling with them. “I was taking care of some things for Maisie so you could sleep more and forgot to make food.”

Aelin nodded, something inside her loosening an inch. When he put it that way, it didn’t sound half as bad.

“Well…” Aelin trailed, knowing she needed to thread carefully with this. “since we’re both so tired, maybe we could get an extra set of hands.”

“Like a nanny?”

She shrugged. “Could be, yes.”

Rowan frowned, crossing his arms. “I don’t know how I feel about this.”

“I can pay for it by myself,” Aelin explained in a calm, firm tone. “I just need to see if you’re okay with it.”

“Aelin, I—“ His mouth opened and closed. “I’m not. It’s a stranger. Do we know anything about them? Do we know how they’d handle Maisie?”

Her eyebrows went up. “You wanna know what happens every second of Maisie’s life?”

“No, but how am I supposed to trust her with someone else before she can tell me if something bad happened?”

“Rowan, I’m going back to work!” Aelin yelled, then stopped when she registered his shellshocked face, in need to rephrase it. “My maternity leave is only so long. We’ll need to trust people sooner or later. And I’ll still be with Maisie the whole day for now. It’s just additional help.”

“Okay, this sounds better.” Rowan looked down, his lips and brows drawn together. Then he shook his head and said, “I still don’t get what’s going on. Every day I come home and you tell me everything went fine, but today we need a sitter all of a sudden.”

“I’m alone in this house with a newborn baby, that’s what’s going on!” Aelin yelled, her chest tighter each word. “You wouldn’t know that because I’m your extra pair of hands when you’re with her, but what about me?”

“You want to trade places? I’d do it id I could.” Rowan let out a scornful laugh, his expression sour with that tight jaw. “You think I wouldn’t love to be paid to take care of Maisie every day? You think I’d rather bark orders at the new recruits instead of staying in with you two? You’re living the dream, Aelin, and you have no idea how lucky you are.”

Very lucky indeed.

She took a step back, feeling dizzy all of a sudden as his words sank in. Caring for a baby is hard, Aelin always knew that. She wasn’t really sure about getting extra help, hence why she started a conversation instead of voicing a demand, but did he mean that? Was she ungrateful for asking for help?

“I didn’t mean to snap at you.” He rubbed his hand against his face. “I’m sorry.”

She closed her eyes, her hands balled into fists. “For the last time, Rowan, stop saying that.”

“But I’m—“

“No, you’re right.” Aelin gave him a taut, sardonic smile. “I’m living the dream.”

˜˜

On her first day at the Whitethorn’s beach house, Aelin woke up with a brutal kick from her sweet baby. The little girl was taking way more space on the bed than she should, leaving Rowan’s hulky figure squeezed in the corner, and Aelin wondered how could Maisie toss and turn so much and sleep like the dead at the same time.

Aelin sat on the bed and opened the bedside table’s drawer, taking out the pill organizer she left there the night before. Of all the ways she came up with to take her morning meds unnoticed, none of them involved sharing a bedroom.

Peeking back at the bed, Maisie and Rowan were still sound asleep, and Aelin wouldn’t dare waking up the family’s monarch and her tired Groom of the Stool. She turned back and twisted off her bottle’s cap—

“What’s that?”

Aelin jerked and clutched her water bottle to her chest on reflex, highly aware of her wild heartbeat. Rowan’s husky morning voice would normally make her melt, but these two words held a cold grip around her core, making her breath and body freeze.

From the other end of the bed, Rowan’s half-lidded eyes never left her pill organizer. “What’s that?”

“Headache,” she blurted, then cleared her throat. “they’re headache tablets.”

“Oh. Go on.” Rowan blinked, not fully awake yet, and relaxed back on the bed. “You better be feeling good if you want to keep up with the little terrors.”

Aelin plastered a smile, her chest heavy with the lie, and quickly took her antidepressant.

She’d tell him. But not after being “caught” or with Maisie asleep between them.

Rowan got up, accidentally waking up Maisie, who was clutching him like a koala.

“No,” the little girl protested, draping an arm across her dad’s torso as an attempt to keep him in bed.

“Come on, Mais.” He kissed his daughter’s forehead and gently disentangled her from him. “Time to wake up. Enjoy the day.”

Maisie frowned. “What about my time in bed?”

Aelin laid back in back and spooned the little girl. “Honey, you just spent hours in bed.”

“Yeah, but I don’t remember that!”

Rowan chuckled and relented, laying again so they could all share one big family cuddle, but not without saying, “We’ll have to go downstairs to eat at some point.”

Maisie shushed her dad. “Our bellies will know when it’s time.”

˜˜

When Rowan’s mom proposed a relaxing trip, what Aelin pictured was very close to the real thing. They decided to stay in today because the beach would be too crowded, but she was currently lying on a pool chair, getting a tan next to Sellene while nibbling some grilled snacks and watching the kids play. Perfect vacation activity. However, she was unsure of how relaxing Rowan was finding this.

The thing is, Rowan only had two modes as a dad: granting Maisie’s every wish, or completely inflexible, safety-freak dadzilla.

He rightfully insisted that Maisie’s swimwear should be only on bright, neon colors so they wouldn’t lose sight of her in the pool. However, Aelin could barely see the cute one piece she picked for their daughter under the rash guard, arm floaties and life jacket Rowan made her wear.

Aelin shouldn’t find his heightened concern endearing, but it was kinda cute to see Maisie under so many layers. It was like Aelin birthed a Michelin Man.

For now, she was letting him be. God, Doranelle was so hot today it made her shiver. Even Rowan was visibly struggling with it, with his tanned collarbones and pecs glistening with sweat.

He was holding his phone on the edge of the pool—not reading or scrolling, because he was watching the kids play, scanning their every move like a hawk. With the sun hitting him sideways, partially illuminating his face and the ridges of his abs, he looked like a piece of art. She licked her lips. Hot dilf trying to keep untamable kids alive, the museum label would say. But Aelin’s vision of him was so breakable she was afraid this scorching weather would melt it. Or maybe she was the one melting.

”You’re such a great friend.”

Aelin startled, her breath catching, but she quickly recomposed herself and gave Sellene a close-lipped smile. For a moment, she forgot the woman was getting a tan in the pool chair next to hers.

“Thanks, Sel. You too.”

Her eyes quickly found Rowan’s abs again—

Sellene cleared her throat.

Aelin squinted at her friend. “You’re being weird today.”

Rowan’s cousin snorted. “The usual girl code says you can’t try anything with your friend’s family member.” Sellene waved her hand at Rowan’s general direction. “But you clearly have the hots for my cousin, so I’m letting you off the hook.”

Aelin threw her head back and cackled. “Thank you, Sellene, for making such sacrifices. But I don’t need the reminder of how attracted to your cousin I am.” She put her sunglasses on. “I don’t know what gave me away. Was it when he knocked me up?”

“I was actually talking about your gross ogling, but your baby is good evidence too.”

Aelin gaped, and it took her a good few seconds to regain her jaw movements. “It wasn’t that obvious.”

Rowan’s cousin chuckled and went to the other side of the pool area, where he was with the kids. Aelin followed suit.

“I’m done tanning, let me stay with them.” Sellene placed both hands on her hips. “It’s time for these kids to have some fun.”

Rowan frowned. “I’m fun.”

“You’re watching them like they’re prisoners.”

”Pools are dangerous. Keeping everything under control is more effective if I stay outside and don’t engage.”

Aelin snorted. That sounded a lot like what happens in a prison yard.

“Let’s play Marco Polo!” Sellene shouted, dragging the last word while cannonballing into the pool.

“Seriously?” Rowan yelled when his cousin emerged. “Is that how you’re keeping an eye on them? With your eyes closed?”

“Daddy, you’re boring!”

Aelin squeezed Rowan’s shoulder. “I can watch them with Sel.”

“No!” Sellene blurted, then held a finger up and turned around. “ENDA!” She called her cousin, who was sitting near the grill with his husband, Ellys and Rowan’s parents. “Get your… butt over here.”

The younger married couple moved closer to the pool and agreed to keep an eye at the kids, and the other ones said they’d sit closer when the snacks were fully grilled.

“The little terrors are outnumbered.” Sellene gave her cousin a pointed look. “Happy now?”

He squinted his eyes at her. “Call me if you need anything.”

Before he could rethink his decision, Aelin took him by the arm. But before they could get to where she wanted, she grabbed his shirt from a chair’s backrest and silently extended her arm.

“What?”

Aelin wiggled the shirt his way. “Pool time’s over. You can get dressed now.”

If Rowan had any thoughts about her demanding he puts a shirt on while not wearing one, just her swimsuit, he didn’t say. He snorted and shook his head, but complied.

In an area close enough to the pool, on the side of the house, there was a small garden with patio furniture and a pool table. However, Rowan lied on a white hammock that was tied in the pergola, under its climbing vines.

Aelin held a bit of the hammock and bumped him with her knee once he got settled. Rowan’s eyes widened, but he quickly concealed his surprised and moved sideways so she could join him.

She spooned him on the hammock, her every inch glued to his. “Hi.”

He brushed a wild strand of hair off her face and whispered, “Hi.”

Aelin tightened her grip on him and hid her face on his shoulder and collarbone, closing her eyes. Taking in the sound of the wind against the vines, especially how it soothed her heated skin. She loved how Rowan smelled like his pine soap and Maisie’s sunscreen and something intrinsically his, and how engulfed by it she felt now, tangled in his arms. Listening to his heartbeat, Aelin could only hope she had even a small influence on the pace of its beat.

She opened her eyes again with Rowan’s caresses on her hair. His eyes were soft, glowing, and he was wearing a small, silly smile that got less rare each day, but never enough to make her stop savoring it.

“I like your nose,” Aelin muttered while bumping it with her index finger.

“Thanks.” Rowan crossed his eyes, as if that would help him look at it. “It breathes alright.”

“What kind of response is that?” Aelin chuckled, because of course the only way Rowan would think about his nose was for its practical function.

“Sorry,” he shook his head, as if chastising himself for something. “You look cute with burnt cheeks.”

Aelin laughed, hiding her face on the curve of his shoulder. “I wasn’t fishing for a compliment, I was joking about your reply.”

“Oh, okay.” The tension on his body loosened. “I still stand by what I said.” A pause. “There’s this drawing on my wall where Maisie put you with two giant, bright red dots as the cheeks.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I didn’t think you could actually look like that back then.”

Aelin gaped, feeling her face grow hot and likely worsening her situation. “Rude!”

“Not at all.” Rowan’s fond grin lit up his face. “You look lovely with a first-degree burn.” A pause charged enough to make him frown. “When was the last time you reapplied your sunscreen?”

Busted. She bit her bottom lip and gave him a coy look, making Rowan’s expression become fondly exasperated.

“I’ll be right back.”

Rowan was back in a matter of seconds, lying by her side with a tube of sunscreen on his hand.

“In my defense, I did apply it. At some point. I just forgot to do it again.”

He shook his head, but that poorly hidden close-lipped smile betrayed his display of disapproval. When Rowan lifted his hand, she grasped his wrist to look at the bottle of sunscreen he was holding.

Which was for kids, but not the super expensive one Aelin bought because of her dermatologist’s recommendation.

“Rowan…” she cautioned. He knew damn well what she was thinking.

He had the gall to duck his head. “Maisie didn’t like the sunscreen’s smell, so I got this one that smells like grapes.”

“You’re spoiling her rotten,” Aelin said in a playful tone.

Rowan grimaced. “I’m painfully aware of that.”

She relaxed back in the hammock, put a small amount of sunscreen on her finger and smelled it with her eyes closed. While she was feeling the synthetic aroma of grapes, Rowan swiftly grabbed her finger and smeared that drop of sunscreen on her nose.

Aelin squealed, surprise by the gentle attack, but closed her eyes and let him spread that amount. Rowan applied sunscreen on her face, his touch feather-light against her forehead, nose, cheeks. She just hoped he didn’t notice how her breath hitched when his thumb reached her chin—especially the patch of skin under her parted lips.

With her eyes closed, Aelin smiled. “This smells great. I kinda get the appeal now.”

Rowan hummed and leaned closer, his nose brushing against her cheek as he breathed her in. “Agreed.”

That motion alone sent Aelin’s nerves into a frenzy, making everywhere he touched tingle and sending that feeling down her spine. Her fingers were shaky, aching to meet him, so they found his upper arm like a magnet.

The second she touched him, Rowan tilted his head and kissed her jaw. All her thoughts vanished, and now Aelin knew nothing more than his weight against her pounding heartbeat, and her hand sliding to his neck.

Rowan trailed a couple of kisses down her apple cheeks, every movement a calculated conversation, each seeing how far they can go. Aelin’s blood was boiling under her skin, her stomach a fluttering mess with anticipation. It only got worse when he kissed the corner of her lips and froze over her.

Do it, her impatient fingertips informed the roots of his hair.

He tilted his face, his breath mingling with hers as he slowly lowered his lips to hers—

“UNCLE RO! AUNTIE—“

Aelin jerked upright, making both of them tumble over the hammock.

Aidan, Enda’s son, squinted his eyes at Aelin and Rowan, fallen on the grass. “You okay?”

Rowan frowned back at the boy. “Why are you here?”

“I don’t know, Grandpa told me to get you two.” The boy mentioned for them to follow him. “Come on.”

Aelin got up, her heartbeat still going a mile a minute with that scare, shook some grass off her leg and held Rowan’s wrist. As they walked back to the pool area, he slipped his hand so it could hold hers, intertwining their fingers.

They hurried their footsteps when Maisie was on their sight, the little girl being watched by lots of adults with pine-green eyes and silver hair.

”What’s going on?” Rowan asked as soon as he was within earshot.

Maisie had an angry pout on. “I asked Grandpa why his black shirt says pink, and now everyone’s being weird.”

Seriously? They got interrupted because of that? Aelin turned to Rowan, but he was frozen in place, blinking at Maisie. Probably as shocked and outraged as she was. So she explained, “It’s a band t-shirt, Mais. It’s not about the color, Pink Floyd is a group formed by those guys here…” she pointed at Owen’s shirt and—

Holy rutting Mala. A sudden cold rushed through Aelin’s body, her mouth falling open.

“Maisie,” Aelin’s hands gripped her daughter’s shoulders, maintaining firm eye contact. “honey, did you just read your grandpa’s shirt?”

“Not like that!” The little girl crossed her arms and explained in a matter-of-fact tone, “I thought Grandpa’s shirt was funny, so I put the letters together to know what it means.”

”Oh! Okay, then.” A warm, weepy laugh left Aelin’s mouth as she squeezed her daughter into a hug and smacked a kiss on her little cheek. “Well, I love it when you do that.”

Aelin’s mind couldn’t help but go back to that fateful day when Maisie’s teacher called them on a meeting to tell them Maisie couldn’t learn how to read because her parents fought too much. Well, a huge fuck you to that… teacher who was just doing her job. Aelin made a mental note to tell that progress to her therapist and focused back on Maisie, the smartest little girl on the planet.

She was so proud of her daughter she could cry, and Rowan looked like he felt the same, watching them with sparkly eyes and a small smile.

By the looks of it, they were doing a good job.

˜˜˜

“Come on!” Aelin shouted, slamming her cards against the table when she lost once again.

Ellys smirked at the deck he had just began to shuffle. “I expected better from you, Aelin.”

She squinted her eyes at the old man. He was just a quieter version of Sellene, because their unfunny remarks were just the same. Tired of having her ego being so blatantly bruised, she got up from that humiliation.

“Being a sore loser, huh,” Sellene said in a teasing tone.

Aelin raised her eyebrows and teased, “I have a daughter to look after.”

The snarky joke made her friend gape. “Rude!”

She squeezed Sellene’s shoulder and left. Truth was, Maisie was very safe and happy being watched by her grandparents, especially if she considered how far away they lived from each other. The person she was looking for now was Rowan.

Rowan, who she almost kissed earlier today. Aelin felt a rush through her body just to think of what almost happened, and that thrill only intensified when she considered what still could happen. Tonight, if she played her cards right.

“Mommy, where are you going so fast?”

Aelin stopped dead on her tracks. On her way to the second floor, she hadn’t even noticed Maisie, Bree and Rory in the living room.

Her mouth opened and closed before she regained her jaw movements, “I was looking for you, Mais!” Aelin walked their way and played with Maisie’s pigtails. “I thought you were with your dad,” she lied.

Maisie somberly shook her head. “Daddy’s sick.”

“He had a headache and went upstairs,” Rory said around a smile. Aelin nodded and took a step back, but the older woman added, “You don’t need to worry about Maisie, I’d watch her the whole week if you two would ever let me.”

Whenever Aelin thought she was used to Rory’s lack of subtlety, the woman struck again, making her cheeks heat one more.

Aelin plastered a polite thanks-for-offering-to-watch-the-kid-while-we-fuck-I’m-kinda-hoping-that-will-actually-happen smile. “That won’t be necessary, Rory. Thanks.”

She ascended the stairs one by one since Rowan’s mom could still see her, and only hurried her footsteps on their room’s hallway. When she opened the door, Rowan was sat on the end of the bed.

He blinked, raising his eyebrows as if he needed them that high to keep his eyes opened. Then he got up to greet her, but swayed on his way up.

“Whoa.” Aelin ran his way and made him sit back down. “What’s going on?”

Rowan rubbed his face, his posture slumped. “I have weirdness and a headache.”

Aelin tilted her head, thankful med school taught her how to translate incomprehensible things patients said. He looked groggy, and was probably dizzy, from the way he got up a minute ago. She’d fish for more information, but that was a good starting point.

”Okay,” she trailed, “did you take anything for the headache?”

“I took your migraine pill, but it didn’t do anything.”

Aelin froze, a sinking feeling in her stomach as her limbs went numb.

”You took my what?” Her voice was shaky, the last word high-pitched.

“Here.” Rowan opened the bedside table’s drawer and took her pill case while fighting his heavy eyelids. “Some of them were in a compartment with the sun drawing, but I took one from under the moon drawing because it’s evening.”

Aelin took the case from his hands, and it was really easy to spot the missing pill there.

“Did I take the wrong one?”

“Yes, but you‘ll be fine.” Aelin adjusted the pillows and mentioned for him to lie down. ”You just need to sleep it off now, okay? Don’t fight it.”

Rowan’s eyes closed when she combed his hair with her fingers, but he forced them open again. “I don’t get it.”

Aelin stroked the side of his face with her thumb, watching him fight his synthetic exhaustion with immeasurable tightness in her chest and throat.

“Rowan, you took my sleeping pill.”

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[fran-in-the-deep]

Can you do my hair?

Hange x gn!Reader

~1k words | One-Shot

“Can you do my hair? Pleeease.”

Hange plopped their head onto your lap, having sprawled out on the couch beside you, looking up at you with the most adorable pleading look. You had been so focused on your book that you hadn’t noticed them leaving their desk. Now putting aside the book and instinctively moving to brush the mess of their hair from their face, you couldn’t help but notice how damp it was.

“Did you bathe?”

“Yup.”

A proud smile lit up Hanges expression even more. They went ahead to hand you a brush that you took without thinking, brain still in buffer mode. You had been there all evening. When did they pull this off without you noticing? On the other hand, it had been a long day, you were tired and your perception was dulled.

“But - why?”

You didn’t mean to be impolite or ask such stupid questions. Luckily Hange knew you well enough as not to assume any ill will, but still. This was so far off-skript that you weren’t sure about how to continue.

Hange tapped their chin with their finger as they always did when thinking really hard, small frown on their face. To be fair, it hadn’t been a good question.

Everyone knew that Hange had a hard time taking care of themselves, always too deep into their research and too practical in the -why clean up when I instantly get dirty again during the experiments?- way. Of course there was some truth to it, yet especially before larger meetings with the other section commanders and Erwin, as it was scheduled for tomorrow, Levi had taken it upon himself to use his near superhuman strength to force the scientist into taking a bath. He’d asked you to keep an eye on Hange for tonight so they wouldn’t run off again.

Usual procedure, as you were planning to spend the time at Hanges quarters anyway and had been part of Levi’s unofficial helper squad for a long time by now. Yet this was a first.

Their features softened again, quickly turning into another smile as they had seemingly found the answer.

“I just thought I’d try something new.”

Hange reached for your hand in their hair, taking it in theirs. You took a moment to marvel at how soft their hands could be after a bath, not better than usual, just different, before finally snapping back to reality, smile tugging at your lips.

“Alright. You should sit up for that though.”

Hanges head nearly hit yours when they quickly sat up, reluctantly letting go of your hand.

“I promise I tried my best, but there was some stuff I couldn’t get out. But I believe in you.”

Hange sounded guilty and the brush got stuck on your first attempt. It didn’t help that Hange naturally had thick hair and that even at a little more than shoulder length made it a lot to deal with. But you were here for all of it. Setting aside the brush, you carefully untangled whatever had gotten in your way. Turns out it was a damn pencil. Sharpened beyond oblivion so there was hardly any actual pencil left, but a pencil none the less.

“Was that the one you’ve looking for yesterday?”

You handed it to Hange over their shoulder who took it from you, letting out an incomprehensible yet joyous Oh sound.

“So that’s where I put it! I was worried that I’d lost it.”

“I don’t think it will be very useful after being drenched.”

“Well, there are several different techniques…”

During Hanges explanation about how they would be able to make good use of what was left of the poor pencil, you unearthed three tangled hair bands from their now moving head. You could just ask them to hold still, but you didn’t want to interrupt them and that little challenge was kinda fun. Even if it was over shortly after as you could finally start brushing their hair. Now, without obstacles, it went smooth. You could get used to that, really. It was relaxing, just listening to them talk while being so close. Whatever soap they had used, it smelled good.

Something very small dropped from the strands you had just brushed through, hitting the floor with a barely audible clack and bounced a little before coming to a rest. Hange stopped talking, you put the brush down to lean over to muster what had just fallen out of their hair.

Hair bands and the pencil at least made sense to have ended up there, but a small rock? And such an ordinary one at that? The both of you stared at the small rock, then looking at each other, before breaking into laughter. You leaned against their back in search of support, feeling their whole body shaking with laughter. How absolutely stupid and absurd and fun.

“I promise I have no idea where that’s from.”

Hange had regained the ability to talk first, now leaning against the back of the couch while you were still catching your breath.

The door sprung open, revealing an exasperated Levi leaning in the door frame, letting out a deep sigh before regaining his composure.

“Don’t even think about escaping through the windows, four-eyes. I have Moblit stationed out there.”

Only then he properly accessed the situation, spotting the two of you on the couch, Hange with their already washed and brushed hair falling to their shoulders.

“What the hell did you do?”

“Nothing.”

Hange threw up their hands in defence, shielding you from Levis intense gaze.

“I just wanted to try something new and had a little help. But you have to admit, I look pretty good now.”

Levis expression didn’t change, he just reached for the door, wordlessly shutting it. His work had already been done after all. You heard his steps as he made his way down the hallway before fading out. Then you finally turned to Hange.

“I think you look pretty good.”

Your compliment was met by them enveloping you into a hug, making you nearly fall off the couch together.

“For you always.”

----------------------------

A/N: I hope I kept it fluffy and wholesome. I'm aware that taking care of oneself can be really hard for neurodivergent people (I fall under that umbrella and feel the struggle) and it shouldn't come off as "only being loveable when clean and showered", because that's a bad take, so I hope I got that across. Maybe I'm overthinking this. I just liked putting the little twist on the whole "Levi has to force Hange to bathe". Anyways, I hope you had fun reading!