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wispscribbles · 6 months

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Mw3 spoilers (just a long personal ramble)

Hiii. So

As soon as the pre-release came out on, I hunted down spoilers, because I know myself and knew that if someone died and I got that information out of the blue, I wouldn’t take it well. Jokes on me, because I still haven’t been taking it well lol

I won’t talk about how Soap’s death was handled or the quality of the game. Plenty of smarter people are doing so.

I try not to talk a lot about myself and irl stuff on here, but will just say: I am very unwell, mentally. (Cue silence because that’s not surprising at all) Something I am very aware that I do, is that I latch onto fiction with my whole being, usually one specific character. For some reason, I always latch onto the character that ends up dead, usually in a way that make them only exist to further the motivations of other characters. It sucks.

So my hope for Soap has never been great, but for some reason I was still so shocked?? I don’t know, I tricked myself into thinking this time was different. Such an iconic character with so much good setup for great character development. I knew someone would die, but ow. To me, he was the element that made 141 seem more like family than coworkers. Soap’s interactions with the rest just livened up the games so much and made them all shine. Especially Ghost. Their dynamic, man.

Soap was the character that intrigued me enough to jump into the cod rabbit hole. It feels very hollow without him.

I keep telling myself that it’s silly to be so hurt over something fictional, and that I can just treat it as a mcd fanfic and move on, but nope. Brain’s stuck in the bad stuff. It’s a bad habit of mine to let something like this affect me so much, but well. Logic vs feeling and all that.

I really did find so much comfort in Soap this last year, that I severely needed. It feels a little like losing someone I know, someone who helped me through a rough time. I related to something in him and felt inspired. I only started writing after getting into ghostsoap, I started working out and I got back into art after a very long burnout. It may be fiction, but the impact is not.

So that was pretty much the worst case scenario of what mw3 could be to me. I always knew the risk, but, once again, ow. But there also seems to be plenty of good stuff in the game that I enjoy. I’m happy with the Ghost and Soap dialogue, the whole team working together and seeing Laswell and Farah and Alex and Nik. I hope I can be inspired by some of the new content once I’m calmer.

And I was worried they would ignore Ghost and Soap’s relationship after their development in mw2, but they genuinely seem to have gotten real close. It’s nice. I thought the shipping might scare the game devs into never having them appear in a scene together again, so that’s a plus.

Bottom line to all this is: I probably need a little break to get my head sorted. The grief is surprisingly real, it’s triggered some old stuff for me (haven’t been sleeping or eating, been stuck in some old thoughts). I’ll need to calm down and become a bit more normal about this again. Part of the grief isn’t so much about Soap himself, but also just the safe space that this account has been. The very nature of how the fandom is going to interact with Soap and Ghostsoap is going to change now, and man… I liked how it was, y’know? Could’ve used a little longer in that bubble. There’s going to be plenty of new fics and art, lovely stuff as always, but many of them will be tinged with grief, and I’m not in a place where that won’t break me a little.

I will hopefully come back to posting and making stuff once my brain settles down. I have so many drafts for fics and ideas that I hope I can return to. I’ve gotten so used to drawing these lads that I doubt I can stop tbh

The version of Soap that we love is already evolved from the games due to all the time and care the community has put into the character. The games may have killed him, but luckily, he’s fictional. We can do what we want, same as before.

I’m not even saying that I wish they hadn’t killed him. The games are crafting a story that fits their audience. It makes sense.

But I will choose to live in one of the many universes we’ve created for Soap, where he is alive and cared for, with a found family and a spooky lieutenant with a soft spot for him. Good for him.

Hope you’re all taking care of yourselves. RIP canon Soap (again). Thanks to Neil for a wonderful portrayal. And no matter where we go from here, thanks for a wonderful year of creating with you lovely folks. Seriously, some of the kindest people I’ve met in fandom. <3

Lastly: fuck you Kevin O’Reilly, but more importantly, sincerely thank you. (CallMeKevin video about mw2 got me into this mess. Otherwise I was keeping cod at an arm’s length, but he’s my fav youtuber, so I watched it. And here we are!)

#if u don’t wanna read: I’ll be taking a small break for mental health reasons but expect to be back and creating for this fandom again <3 #mw3 #mw3 spoilers #cod mwiii #mwiii spoilers #call of duty mwiii #ghostsoap #wispy update #always feel anxious posting anything emotional but feel like this one deserved a proper update #you’re all wonderful ppl ily #hopefully see you soon !

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velvetmud · 1 year

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joel miller eating pussy in the shower. that’s it that’s the whole prompt.

im unwell. also got helllla carried away cause how could i not

warning(s): obviously smut 18+

joel was feeling giddy and devious before he’d even heard the sound of the spray from the shower head start up. but now that he had, he couldn’t put a stop to any of the ideas swimming through his head.

the smirk he wore was like the grinch on christmas as he tiptoed across the bedroom, puts his ear to the door, listening. hears her rummaging with bottles of soap and humming a song. oblivious to the added torture she was putting him through.

joel doesn’t wait a second longer and begins clawing off his impossible layers, almost tripping as he hopped around stripping off his jeans. hot steam flooded the air when he swung the door open, naked as the day he was born, yanking the shower curtain aside to feast his eyes. naturally, she jumped and gasped before realizing who it was.

with a sadistic grin he’s stepping in to invade, uncaring of the foamy suds still dripping from her scalp. she playfully slaps his bare chest with a hard laugh and calls him an asshole.

“you could’ve warned me before coming in first,” she scolds, still wrapping her hands around his neck for a welcome home kiss. joel gratefully accepted, eager hands wandering up and down her freshly scrubbed skin.

“where’s the fun in that?” he teases while his lips slide down her jaw and in her neck, nipping and smelling. taking all of her in after eight hours without.

her eyes close when he tips her head down to help wash remaining soap from her head. as he gently smoothes his fingers through, not letting a drop go near her eyes, his dick begs to take over the moment as it grazes the inside of her thigh. she looks up at him with doe eyes and acts like she doesn’t notice.

“mmm. so how was work today?”

joel’s patience was worn down by this point of the day, breathing heavy while cupping her ass and giving it a long squeeze. resumed his selfish attack on her neck before he bothers addressing her question. “doesn’t matter. m’home now baby, all yours tonight.”

she scoffs and smiles at that, pressing her palms in his tense shoulders. “were those leftovers still any good for lunch?”

“mmhm. but I’ll tell you what’ll taste even better,” joel murmurs. any tangible thought left in his brain dissipates as he ducks his head lower and lower until he’s down on his knees in the tub. one of his hands hold with a death grip onto her lower back, the other hauling a leg over his shoulder. heaven couldn’t hold a candle to the sight.

she could bait him to fucking do anything if it meant he could spend time in between these legs, sucking and licking and feasting on what’s his.

“oh. so you’re that hungry, huh?” she bit her bottom lip and eyed him mischievously from above. he feels her fingers grab a handful of his hair while he kisses the insides of her creamy thighs.

heaving as he looks up into her wanting eyes, he took the first leap and placed a long kiss to the hood of her clit. felt his pride swell in his chest when she does a full body shudder.

“starved.”

licking up the wetness already threatening to drip down from her sweet lips, so immersed that even an earthquake wouldn’t be capable of disrupting them. dipping his tongue in and out of her entrance with both precision and sloppiness somehow, only to bring the tip up to her needy bud and swirl it around in dangerous circles.

the water bill could get fucked, because he isn’t going anywhere.

“fuck joel,” her voice wavered to a petty whine, feeling him curve that tongue upwards and even mixing his spit with her own juices. he says nothing in return, mouth fat too busy working her up. joel goes to techniques that are tried and true but also isn’t afraid to switch it up and surprise her. every breath and gasp and whine adds more fuel to his tank. when he trusts she’ll keep her leg right over his shoulder, right where it belongs, he snakes the hand that was holding it up to gently rub all over her soaked lips. eventually pushed and wiggled his thick middle finger snug inside, letting his mouth work on her clit some more as opposed to just the tip of his nose.

that always does it. finally having something inside her to really clench down on. he marvels at the feeling of her, so wet it makes noise every single time he goes in and out. joel has to stop himself from either jamming more fingers in or pulling them out to suck them clean. he’s got her where he wants her, while simultaneously she has him right where she needs him. it’s enough for her to get greedy for more, and he feels right when she starts grinding herself down onto his face with lazy rhythm.

“huh-uh,” he chastises, rough vocal cords all strained as he tightens his hold on her ass to keep her nice and still, pliant. “not yet. let me have the fun.”

up above, he sees her briefly roll her eyes and pull on his hair harsher than before. brat.

“you’ll get to baby, just a little more. I’ve got you, that’s it.”

his raspy words solve nothing and only serve to make her hornier, but she doesn’t know the half of it. his cock aches between his legs, precum steadily dripping down from the tip. so he does what he can to alleviate it, pulling his finger out briefly to give himself a nice tug, squeezing the thick base while he flattens his tongue to cover her whole pussy. it turns her on like nothing else has before, watching him get off on putting his mouth to work in his favorite place. her nails claw at his scalp while she tries refraining her hips from moving, even though all she craves doing is sitting and grinding all over his face.

with more lazy drags of his tongue occupying her, joel finds that he doesn’t want to hold her near the edge as cruelly as he has. reluctantly taking his fist from his dick, he purposefully omits any warning when he rams two of his fingers inside, hooking them upwards.

“ohmygod—j-jo-“

“I know I know, shhh,” his eyes are half lidded when he tilts his head up briefly to soothe her, but still doesn’t stop or slow the relentless speed. god, the sounds alone are enough to rile him up some more, but he isn’t interested in making it about him right now.

the squelching sound around his fingers is loud and wet enough to put any skin flick to shame. he buries his face in and makes a long humming sound, adding some more stimulation. with the loudest scream she’s let out in a while, he can’t help but stare in awe and praise her for how fucking phenomenal she is.

“doing so good for me baby girl, I know it’s gettin’ close,” joel swallows, breathy and shakey himself while she nearly wept and convulsed up above.

it was amazing that the water hadn’t turned cold, which honestly would’ve helped wave off his own arousal. the steam had fogged up the mirror and neither had it in them to notice or care how long it’s been.

joel is three fingers deep with her wetness dripping down to his chin and all over his facial hair until he decides he’s had his fill, she can indulge and have her fun now.

“go ahead now, baby. move those hips, take what you need,” his gruff voice encouraged, loosening his grip to allow her to move more freely. and she did not need to be told twice. once granted permission, she grinds up and down harsh onto him, whining and holding tight onto his ears and the back of his head. in tune with each and every twitch, it’s clear as day when she gets ready to cum. the apples of her cheeks are beat red, his name mixed with curse words on repeat. joel drinks up all the honey she gives him, doing anything and everything to help take her there, give her what she needs to achieve it.

she cries out a string of gibberish, tightening and creaming around his digits and joel swears they’re both levitating.

“my good girl, so perfect—“

her hips have drastically slowed down, allowing him a little more oxygen to heave and catch his own quick heartbeat. once he’s sure she’s satisfied, he gently pulls his fingers out of her abused entrance and gives them a good suck.

it never gets old, seeing her so spent just from him, bones like jelly after the over exertion. he’s wobbly himself, still painfully hard between his legs when he stands up on the slippery floor of the tub, unbothered by the wet mess still coated all over the lower half of his face.

“you’re going to kill me from that one of these days,” she whispered, pulling him down to her lips to give him a long kiss. her sneaky fingers drifted down between his thighs to give his length a good stroke.

there aren’t any flirty remarks left in him he could come up with when her thumb rubs his swollen tip, and all he can do is just stand there, leaning on her with his face buried in her shoulder under the warm spray.

“let’s dry off and go to bed so I can return the favor.”

masterlist

#joel miller x reader #the last of us #tlou #joel tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller x y/n #the last of us smut #the last of us 2 #the last of us HBO #tlou show #ask #anon #joel miller tlou

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boxofthings · 6 months

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I constantly think about how 09 Soap must've felt losing Roach on a mission he didn't accompany him on.

His journal entries made it clear that he cared about Roach, talking about wanting to break him in and feeling more comfortable with mentoring Roach than Price was when mentoring Soap.

Not to mention how he spoke about how he saw himself in Roach, noting how he was "raw, skilled and loyal to a fault" (and this was after one mission together) and wrote down how Roach was a quick learner, good at the snowmobile and at C4 detonation (this guy was totally pining)

the 09 timeline in general is SO angsty, the tone overall was just sm grittier and you could feel the stakes of every mission. So just think about all the close calls Roach has gotten himself in, dude got his name for a reason and Soap had to experience first hand on multiple occasions why that is (so just think about how terrified he constantly is, having to watch someone you care about get hurt so often and just barely escape death)

Might be misremembering things but I'm pretty sure on every mission we go on, Roach is always accompanied by Soap, which makes it all the more gutwrenching that the one time they're split up is the moment where Roach's life is taken. Devastating :')

I always think about the radio calls right after Loose Ends, where Soap keeps yelling for Roach and Ghost to answer, only to stop once Price yells that they're dead. He must've been so desperate to hear at least one of them confirm that they were alive, only to be met with silence.

Think about Hornet's Nest from his perspective, watching Roach fall behind and being so close to catching him but not quite being quick enough. Soap was probably terrified at the thought of having to leave Roach behind and having to watch him run for his life while guiding him from the safety of the carrier. The pure, unadulterated fear and anger afterwards must've been so potent. I'm imagining the hug afterwards, but also the yelling, probably just him calling Roach an idiot and just how many times are you going to miss a jump before it kills you??

His heart must've dropped the moment he realized Shepherd had turned against them, and Roach was heading directly to him with the DSM, miles away from Soap's location. He wasn't even able to say goodbye. And reading his journal entry right before they go after Shepherd makes me unwell lol

Anyways yeah :') no one talks about 09 soaproach enough. They make me so upset it's insane.

#i talk about 09 ghostroach a lot but yall be sleeping on 09 soaproach mannn theyre equally as devastating #even worse if you imagination ghostsoaproach being a thing in the 09 timeline soap just lost 2 of his loved ones in one go #dude mustve felt SO guilty he wasnt there #and the anger in his journal after losing them arghhhhhh i NEED more 09 content #gary roach sanderson #john soap mactavish #soaproach #roachsoap #soap x roach #cod #call of duty #mw2 #modern warfare 2 #box of words #box of posts

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thelampisaflashlight · 1 year

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Worry Me, Worry You

[Dew is sick Swiss has some feelings about it. Contains discussion of being sick both in the sense of being unwell as well as in the physical sense. A fair bit of angst with a mild resolution at the end.] Below the cut.

When Dew gets sick, It starts with a weakness in his fingers, an inability to grip things in his hand without it feeling... off.

His muscles and joints feel loose and wrong, so he clenches his fists tighter, strains and tires himself without realizing until he can't manage simple tasks anymore.

His hands shake, and his sight goes to static at the edges, save for a strange, drifting clear spot in his vision, that has a filminess to it like a soap bubble without the rainbow sheen.

The pain doesn't set in right away, but the inability to focus his vision, combined by the sudden loss of his fine motor tells him it's only a matter of time before it does.

So when his hand refuses to close around the pen he's been using to scribble down notes with, he knows something's wrong... and he needs to deal with it before someone sees him.

Dew wets his lips, grateful to have caught things in the early stages, before his stomach has a chance to turn, before he feels that familiar numbness in the back of his throat...

He drops the pen onto the desk and closes his eyes, trying to strategize how exactly he's going to make it from his desk to his on suite bathroom without jostling himself too much.

He only needs to make it ten feet.

Why does that seem so far away now?

With great difficulty, Dew stands on unsure feet for only a moment before feeling lightheaded and dizzy.

"Shit." he staggers uncoordinatedly in one spot before carefully lowering himself to the ground, knees pressing into the hardwood, and crawls to the bathroom instead.

He can barely reach the handle from the floor, but when he does, the door refuses to budge, and Dew bumps against it weakly with his shoulder, accidentally knocking his head and wincing.

He really needs to get this thing fucking fixed.

His head and the damned door.

Dew grunts awkwardly, smacking his hand uselessly against the flat surface.

It doesn't even make a sound when his hand slaps it, looks more like he's drunkenly petting it if anything.

Fuck.

His eyes water, clouding his already hazy vision as the pain starts to really set in.

It's like someone stabbing him repeatedly in the head with a metal fork, but lifting each time to scrape against the insides of his skull, and the only thing he can think to do is press his face to the floor and hope it's cold enough to soothe the persistent pulsing in his brain.

He tries to breathe normally, keep himself from clenching his jaw, but it's hard.

His body feels impossibly heavy.

He shivers.

Across the room, he can hear his phone buzzing.

Someone's calling him, but he just closes his eyes, trying to block out the noise.

It's not easy, and the grating sound of it rattling against the desktop feels like a knife in his ear, but, eventually, he's more focused on keeping his stomach settled and his head cooled that he's too out of it to realize his bedroom door is opening.

When Dew opens his eyes again, he's in his bed, bundled up in a sweatshirt too big to be his own, propped up on his side by a pillow wedged under his back, and a blanket covering him from the waist down, so his legs stay warm, but ensuring that his tender stomach stays relatively cooler.

A cold compress falls from his neck as he lifts his head, looking around the room tiredly.

He's dully aware of two things as he comes back to himself.

His mouth tastes like... peppermint.

Whoever put him here also brushed his teeth, and...

There's a distinct smell of artificial lemons in the air, like the floor cleaner they use specifically for the wood floors when there's been a spill so it doesn't leave a stain.

He tries not to think about what the person needed to clean up besides, ya know, him.

Dew sniffs again, but something about the action causes a fleck of spit to go down the wrong tube, and he lets out a little cough, which quickly turns into a groan as the muscles in his abdomen contract.

"Ah, you're awake."

Dew makes a small, befuddled noise in the back of his throat, followed by a weary chirp when he sees Rain walk into the room, smiling at him.

Dew drags himself up into a sitting position, and Rain is quick to rearrange his pillows to keep him upright.

"...Did you clean up my... the mess?" he croaks, his throat feels painfully dry, "Ow..."

"Mm-mm." Rain shakes his head, uncapping a water bottle and handing it to Dew.

"Nah, that was Swiss, he's the one who found you on the floor. Said he was coming to show you something stupid he bought and... yeah."

Dew tries to lift the bottle to drink, but his hands are too shaky and he spills a little down the front of his shirt, pouting.

Seeing his predicament, Rain steadies the bottle enough for Dew to drink a few good sips of water before taking it back and setting it on the nightstand beside the bed, "Better?"

"Mn..." he clicks his tongue, "I feel like... a rock... a rock made of shit."

"That's... I have no idea if feeling like a coprolite is better or worse than you felt before, but I'm going to assume that means you're feeling... relatively okay?"

"Ehn." Dew shrugs, "...my head doesn't hurt anymore, but my stomach's being a bitch..."

"Do you think you're going to throw up again?" Rain asks, worriedly eyeing the bathroom door.

"No... it's just sore now." he says, sinking back into the pillows, looking around the room curiously, "...Where'd Swiss go?"

"To take a shower." Rain says, glancing at the floor.

Ah.

"...'m sorry." Dew mumbles and Rain just smiles sadly and pets his hair.

"If you want to apologize to properly, you've gotta rest up and get better, okay?"

Dew nods, purring sleepily as Rain scratches around his horns.

"Any idea what made you sick?" Rain asks and Dew shrugs.

"Mn, migraine maybe... dunno..." he tugs at his shirt, "...Whose is this? Is this a unicorn riding a... riding a motorcyle, what?"

"It's Cirrus'."

Dew pinches his eyes shut and grumbles, "How many of you saw me all... gross and shit?"

There's a brief pause of consideration before Rain responds.

"Uh... When Swiss found you, he kind of shouted and..."

Dew covers his face with his hands.

"...Fuuuck..."

"We didn't know what was happening and-" Rain cuts himself off, watching tears dribble down Dew's chin, "Dew? Dew, does something hurt?"

"'m fuckin' embarrassed, what the fuck..." he whines, turning away from Rain and smushing his face into the pillow.

"Dew, it's-"

"'s'not okay..." Dew mumbles, "...I don't even remember what happened between being on the floor and now, and you all... that's fuckin' stupid."

"How's it stupid?"

"...I'm stupid. This is stupid-"

"Dew-"

"-My body's fucking stupid!" Dew cries, whipping around and throwing the pillows off his bed in a fit, flopping back down only to kick the sheets off as well, sniffling angrily when they refuse to untangle from around his legs.

"I'm a fuckin' demon! I'm supposed to be tougher than this!"

"Dew." Rain says a bit more firmly, grabbing his knees, forcing his legs to still, "Dew, I know it's upsetting, but we've got this, yeah? We're gonna take care of you."

"I don't want that..." Dew wipes his eyes with the sleeve of Cirrus' sweatshirt, "Don't want it..."

"Don't want us to take care of you or..." Rain tries, lowering his voice.

"Don't want..." Dew rolls onto his side again, "...I don't... I don't like..."

Rain tilts his head and waits.

"...I don't..." he can't finish the sentence.

He doesn't even know how he's supposed to articulate what he's feeling right now aside from sick.

His brain feels like pudding and all he can keep thinking about is how all of them...

...All of them...

"...Don't like it when you see me... see me like that..." he says finally, picking at the mattress, "Just leave me on the floor next time, pretend you didn't notice-"

The door creaks open and Swiss enters with his arms crossed.

"You... you know we can't do that, right?" he scoffs, holding his hand up when Dew opens his mouth to argue, "Sorry, baby boy, but I... we don't like seeing you suffer as much as you seem to want to hide it, so, like, no."

Dew hisses, but feels the fight leaving him when Rain sends him a sympathetic look and kneads his shoulder soothingly.

Swiss enters the room fully and shuts the door part way, leaving it ajar, before sitting down on the end of his bed, just out of kicking range in case Dew throws another tantrum.

"...This is fucking humiliating..." Dew huffs, staring daggers at his ceiling fan.

"Which part? Your sweet new sleep shirt curtesy of Cirrus, or the fact that we all love you so much we wouldn't let you lie on the floor in agony?"

Dew tilts his head down to look at the shirt again.

"...The latter."

He does have to admit he likes the design, but that's not the point.

"Well, too bad. We love ya, and you're going to have to get used to that." Swiss teases, "But, really, dude... We were really worried."

Rain nods.

"I would have been fine..." Dew whispers, "Not my first rodeo with this shit, so..."

"And you know that's more concerning, right?" Swiss points out, "Cause here's the thing; I don't care if you don't care about your own wellbeing, I mean, I fucking DO because you should care, but that's not even... What I'm trying to say is, if you're not doing well, you can tell us, you know that, yeah?"

Dew frowns, returning to glaring at his ceiling.

"Dew..." Swiss sighs, "I..."

He takes a deep breath and leans forward to hold his hand.

"Have any of us... ever made you feel like it isn't safe to talk about this stuff?" he asks.

"...No."

"But, do you... feel like it's not safe to talk about it?"

Dew doesn't answer right away, but when he does, his voice wobbles a bit.

"Yeahh..."

Rain returns to petting Dew's hair, "We've got you."

Swiss gives his hand a reassuring squeeze.

At some point, Dew falls back asleep.

His dreams are nightmarish and provide little to no respite.

When Dew wakes, Rain is gone, but Swiss is lounging on his bed beside him scrolling through his phone, and Dew angles his head to take a peek at his screen.

"...Is that a dog or a cat?" he asks, his words a bit slurred from the way he's squished.

Swiss startles and almost drops his phone, "Jesus!"

He places a hand on his chest.

"I thought you were asleep!"

"I was." Dew mumbles, "...And now I'm awake."

"Thank you for the rundown, Captain Obvious.... Geez... You're scaring me a lot today, you know that?" Swiss pinches Dew's cheek and gives it a pull.

"Aughh diiidnth meean tooahh..." Dew says, "...'m thorry."

Swiss lets go of his face and sets his phone off to the side.

"You really did though." he says, ruffling Dew's hair, "I got scared seeing you on the ground like that, I didn't know what to do, and if... if something..."

He shakes his head.

"Actually, let's talk about that later, when you're better... How're you feeling now that you've slept some more?"

Dew yawns, "Weirdly more tired..."

Swiss snorts, "Yeah?"

"Yeah..." Dew wriggles closer to Swiss, looping his arm around his midsection and bumping his head against his chest.

"Whatcha doin' there, bud?"

"Lay down." Dew nudges him, "Sleep."

"Well, since you asked so politely..."

Dew lets Swiss go in order for him to get settled, resting his head on the pillow beside his.

"I'm still upset with you." Swiss informs him, but still allows Dew to snuggle up against his side, "...Glad you're not dead though."

"You thought I died?"

Swiss hums.

"You weren't responding when I called your name or shook you, so... yeah... yeah, I did." he says, resting his chin on top of Dew's head, "Aeth came running, made sure that... that you weren't... ya know."

"...Ah..."

"I..." Swiss swallows, voice cracking, "...Everybody was scared, but then you woke up! And we got you to answer some questions, and then... then you..."

"What did I do?" Dew asks nervously.

"You, uh, you... it was like the meme... You were just standing there, like dumbfounded about it, and meanwhile I'm over here like, 'BRO'..."

"This clears up nothing."

"You ruined my crocs."

"Oh. Ohhh..."

"Yeah."

They sit in silence for a moment while Dew processes this new information.

"...In hindsight, that's... that's at least a little funny." he says, "...Who brushed my teeth?"

"Oh that was Aeth and Rainy, they had a hell of a time getting into your bathroom, so they took you to Cirrus' room and got you all cleaned up. That's where we got the shirt and the shorts."

Dew lifts the blankets and stares.

Pink with white polka dots... what kind of cursed wardrobe is Cirrus hiding in her bedroom?

"After that, Mount made some weird tea and made you drink it, which, like, I don't know what was in that stuff-"

"Peppermint and chamomile with a sprinkling of ginger and two ibuprofen on the side!" Mountain calls from the other side of the wall.

Swiss blinks, "Damn the walls in this place are thin..."

"Anyway, you drank, like, two cups of that and zonked out, and that's about it. Still embarrassed?"

"Little bit... Less now that I know what happened... that's the scariest part." Dew confesses, "...It's the idea that something happened and I don't remember, but other people do, combined with... I dunno, not being able to stop it from happening to begin with..."

"Well... maybe a trip to the doctor is in order to help with that last part." Swiss says, rubbing Dew's back, "...Hey?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you, Dewboy."

"Love you, too."

"We all love each other, now go to bed already, some of us are trying to sleep!" Cirrus chimes in from across the hallway, sending a pillow through the open door.

"You're all ruining the moment!" Swiss complains.

"If everyone is awake right now, can someone get me a glass of water?" Sunny inquires.

"Didn't I already get you-"

Swiss gets up and closes the door.

"Bedtime?" he asks.

"Bedtime." Dew confirms, holding his arms out for Swiss to collapse back into.

#Lamp writes #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #swiss ghoul #rain ghoul #ghost band #ghost bc #the band ghost #ghost band fanfic #sickfic #hurt/comfort #in a way #me projecting what it was like to get migraines basically every week from middle through highschool #in particular what they felt like

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sweetheart09 · 10 months

Text

"Wake up, wake up little bird"

Part one

Warnings: This story contains: Mention of killing, mention of affair, mention of Student/ Professor relationship, mention of death and torture, mention of sexual behaviour.

~read at your own risk also please keep in mind that english is not my first language, so be kind ^^ ~

Runa woke up drowsy and sleepy. Her head pounds like crazy and it was hard not to fall into unconsciousness again. Time went by and Runa snuggled back into the soft mattress and pillow. It was comfortable and just to good to wake up now. At first Runa did not noticed it….the unfamiliar scent….and the way the room was just too quiet....it was not Carols scent…like normal….or the sweet and fresh scent of Runas own laundry soap. Runa groaned as she rolled over….hoping to feel Carols warmth on her arm…but nothing. Runa sighed….she was maybe up again….doing work…or cleaning the apartment. Carol Danvers was always a organized and controlling woman….she always made sure to make the bed fresh, to clean the kitchen when Runa was over. She does not want her Husband Clive to know that she was having an affair with one of her college students. It would ruin her…it would ruin both of them....their life, her carrier…but still….the taboo….the secret Carol needed to keep, It was just to good. Runa loved it too…the affection….the little secret…the sex. It was all just too good. She opened her eyes….everything was blurry…and the bright light made her headache even worse. Like a hurted animal…she whined and turned around again to shut out all sources of light again. Thats when the girl noticed it…the small rustling and the tightness on her wrist….chains. They were warm against her wrist from her own body heat. Did Carol used handcuffs last night? Not that Runa can remember…and normally Carol was removing everything after the little hours of fun. Runa was confused…her heart skipped a beat…as a feeling of unwellness overcomes her.

The headache…the sleepiness…it was not normal for Runa to be that sleepy….to not get up for hours….She was normally a great morning person... She took a deep breath….it was nothing to worry about….maybe Carol was in the bathroom or already in the kitchen prepairing late night snacks or even early breakfast. Runa tries to keep calm...sleep overtook her soon again....letting her drift away in her own little world...in her own little memories...dreams of the next days in college...with her few friends....and then the evenings with her professor. The way Danvers would touch Runa, kiss her....the way Carol fingers would gracefull- Suddenly Runa gasped for air, as something or someone took her by her neck and squeezed her throat tightly....Runa opened her eyes wide in reflex...starring at the bright light bulb hanging from a grey concrete ceiling. The light is bright like the sun, burning in her eyes and making them water....the pressure increased and Runa tries to free herself from the choking grip...only to realize that she was still cuffed onto the bed.

"Wake up sleepy beauty" A raspy and deep voice chuckled. Runa looked frantically around the room until her eyes landed on a dark figure beside her. The womans face was halfway covered from a dark mask, only her green orb like eyes can be seen, shining sadistically. Runa wimpered in fear as she sees the dangerous, sociopath like glint in her eyes. Red lock bounced as the woman continues to choke Runa. Runas body arched as the lack of oxygen slowly became to much. Soon the students eyes began to flutter, her face was red....and her body stopped struggeling....but before Runa can fall unconsciouses again....the woman let go. Runa choked, breathed and even drooled slightly as the fresh oxygen burned in her lungs. It was salvation, the air filling up her starving lungs like it was their last meal. Runa coughed hardly as drool escape her lips and slips down her chin and cheek. The other woman chuckled like it was fun to her to bring people on the edge of death..

"Was fun, wasn´t it. Finally you are awake..took you long enough..." the woman chuckled again. Runa was in distress....trying to look at the womans figure but also trying to keep her breathing on a normal level. The woman walked gracefully and silently like a predator towards the tied up student. Runa trembled as the Stranger came towards her. Runa wanted to speak, to ask her who she was and what she wanted from someone like her...but Runas mouth was dry and speechless. "Such a pretty thing.." Natasha cooed and stalked towards the defenseless student. The Black Widow carefully climbed up the bed and leaned over the still breathless Runa Jones. "So pretty....with all the marks.." Natasha purred dangerously and softly touched Runas neck. Dark purple marks starts to appear from the past choking....fingerprints of abuse and pleasure. Runa looked at the Woman on top of her...she tries to squirm, hoping to get as far away from the others body as possible. But it had no use...Natasha grabbed Runas shoulders to keep her still and pretty.

The Woman smiled...it is even noticeble with the black mask on. Her eyes glint with pure ecstasy and even pleasure. Runa whined as the woman suddely pulled a knife out of one of her thigh pockets...holding it up in the air. The dull light of the bulb above them glistered in the sharp metal blade. "no..please.." Runa whimpered with multiple thoughts in her head. Everything spins and fear creeps up her bones. Will the woman kill her? The woman chuckled again...and softly pulled up her mask...Runa would have gasped at the beauty of this woman, if she was not in such a dangerous situation. Forest and dark green eyes, fire red and curly hair....her lips are plum and lookes soft. Runa would have been stunned by the womans appearence....if there wasn´t the frightening and murderous glint in her eyes. "So pretty when you beg..." Natasha wispered and with steady hands guided the sharp blade closer to Runas chin. Runa whimpered as the cold metal scratched her skin...it does not hurt..but still feels uncomfortable.

The tied up woman tries to stay still...letting the Assassine do whatever she wants... "You know...if you would not be so pretty....i would have killed you right away..." The assassine wispers slowly letting the blade run up and down Runas chin...softly slicing away any small hairs. Runa did not dare to breath....she did not even dare to think... "Beg for me again....now" The woman commanded sternly but also with a tiny sadistic smile.

Runa swallowed and opened her dry mouth to speak.. "Please...no...do not hurt..me" Runa croaked out and was embarassed of herself in this moment. The Widow seems to be satisfied by the small amount of words and softly removed the blade from her victim...even if iNatasha wanted more. Natasha would love to slice her Name right away into Runas shoulder....or ven stomach...but she waits first....maybe another time.

Natasha leaned down watching Runa like a prey...before leaning down and kissing her lips softly. Runa tries to lean away...but strong hands keep her still. Runa tries to not lean into the soft and plum lips of her kidnapper....but she can not lie...the kiss was good.

Runa was to suprised to think straight in this moment...she just let it happened. Adrenalin and also fear rushed through her vains....but still she somehow enjoyed the kiss. The collage student was glad that the assassine did removed the blade from her breakable neck and was now a bit more gentle. With a little tuck Natasha pulled away, leaving Runa breathing for air- Questionable...she was missing the kiss...her lips..and tounge. Natasha chuckled as she saw her victim out of breath and still being tied up. Her long fingers slowly start to caress Runas neck and went futher down Runas chest and under her shirt. Runa sucked in the air, being uncomfortable with being touched by the woman who took her.

"Now, be a good girl and hold still.." Natasha breathed out before she lowered her head towards Runas neck...softly starting to nipple the sensitive skin. "I will have so much fun with you..."

#dark wanda maximoff #Dark Natasha Romanoff #Dark!Natasha romanoff #Dark!Natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #Dark

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ladyosiriscreates · 3 months

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Goodness I just read your amazing Soap one shot! So good! Could I ask for Gaz taking care of an unwell female reader (totally not based on my current situation at all)? Thank you 🖤

I kept looking at this so many times in just pure disbelief. HELLO GREATSTORMCAT I love reading your drabbles they're truly a treat to read. Also I love Gaz he is one of my favorites. Rudy Parra is also my beloved. and if you would like something NSFW from him just leave another ask/idea and I will write it because I have FEELINGS AND IDEAS.

I'm in a Sickbed, but at least it's Yours.

Gaz x Fem!Reader for the opulent @greatstormcat (3.2k words)

Tags: Illness, insecurity, fluff, comfort, so much fucking comfort, this man was made to love someone, mutual pining that just boils over,

You had known it was coming. The dregs of winter that brought along pressure drops that threatened to blow your sinuses through the rest of your head. Fever, aches, chills and the incessant fog around your head that clouded everything and led your body to exhaustion… man fuck that.

For the first few days, you thought you might be dying.

But today, you certainly wished it was so. Because surely it would be a greater mercy than whatever fuckery your body was fighting off.

And that was what led you to now, standing in the kitchen of an apartment that wasn’t yours, wearing soft pajamas that certainly didn’t belong to you, and staring at a fridge that looked familiar- but also wasn’t yours.

“...C’mon luv, you’ve been staring at my closed fridge door for the better part of fifteen minutes. And as fucking hilarious as it might be to see you disassociate to the hum of it, I’m half afraid you’ll keel over if you take another step.” Came a kind voice, soft laughter permeating the hazy, unpleasant fog of ick that hung around your brain. Turning your head, you met the warm, impossibly dark eyes of one Kyle Garrick. Your long term friend.

Friend.

Why had he always been just a friend?

You two had revolved around each other from the moment you met, always within each others orbit though barely ever colliding.

For that matter… how had you gotten here? And when?

“Gaz?” You slurred, voice light as you grabbed onto the counter. “Don’t think I’m home right now.” Gentle arms encircled your body, coaxing you into his chest despite your weak protests. “No you can’t, ‘m sick, and if you get sick i’m damn near certain your team’ll hunt me for sport. And I promise that is not how I’d like to be hunted.”

But your protests fell on deaf ears as you were lifted into his arms. Which seemed to be for the better with how the room spun as he did. “S’alright, I’m on leave for the next two weeks anyways. I can afford a little bit of sickness. But I believe you when you say you’re not home.” He teased. “Not a whole lot goin’ on in that pretty little head?”

“Well it fuckin’ hurts.” You retorted with a scoff, arms easing around his shoulders as you nestled into the crook of his neck. The gentle scent of mint and earth churned at your senses, weaving their way through your stuffed sinuses to bring comfort to your humming mind. “You think my head is pretty?”

“That’s what you got out of that?” Kyle chuckled in return, shaking his head as he took you past the threshold of his own bedroom and laying you against his bed, sitting at its edge. But you didn’t let go. Like a lifeline you clung to his neck, keeping him bent over you before pulling your head back to meet his gaze.

Perhaps it was the soft light cascading through the window, pale gold in the setting sun, but he shimmered in your vision- elegance and refined beauty. “...If I were more selfish a woman, I’d tell you what I’m thinking.” you whispered, eyes flitting in a triangle between his own eyes, and the lips that were now pursed.

“If I were more selfish a man, luv, I’d keep you in this bed- my bed, and never let you up from it. But maybe that’s just your fever talking…” He soothed, reaching up to untangle your arms from his shoulders and laying you back down. When you protested, he cupped your cheek, thumb rubbing small circles into the feverish skin. “You don’t know how worried I was when you texted me.”

Your brows furrowed, lips parting slightly as you glanced around. “I… texted you?” Surely not- but actually… where was your phone again?

“I’m not sure what you were trying to say, but the words help, medicine and sick were all in it. And all misspelled. You had me worried, and the state I found you in wasn’t much better. Laying under a heap of blankets and groaning to yourself about how death would be better than this?” He teased, but beneath the lighthearted nature, even now you could see it, that concern. The genuine care he possessed. Selfishly, you wished it was only for you.

“So you came?” you asked, unable to hide your own surprise.

“Of course.” Gaz whispered, huffing out a small laugh. “I always come when you call. Kinda wish you’d call more, sweetheart.”

Finally, you allowed yourself to surrender back into the softness of his bed, suddenly enveloped by an almost overwhelming sense of him. “I have a fever.” You explained quietly.

“Yes, I know this.” he replied.

“I’m hoping it’s high enough I won’t remember this tomorrow, depending on how it goes.” You muttered, lifting a hand to drag across your congested and stuffy nose- what a great way to start things. “...I hate you. No. wait. No, that's definitely not right.” You scoffed, clenching your jaw. “I hate… when you’re not around. I hate being apart from you. I hate the way you make me feel when I know you’re just being kind and genuine. I hate wanting you more than a plant craves the sun-”

Kyle’s eyes grew wider as you spoke, these words the clearest to fall from your tongue since he’d picked you up this morning. And though it seemed you weren’t done speaking, he carefully stole your hand from your face, placing your fingertips to his lips for a moment. “My turn?”

“Your turn.” came your reply, meek beneath the sudden warmth of his voice.

“I hate being apart from you too. I hate feeling like we’re in this dance but always with different partners, and at most I can catch your eye from the other side of a ballroom- but your card is always full and I’m never sure if there’s more room for me.” He hummed, massaging your palm as he held your hand delicately within his own. “I hate that you keep me at arms length because you’re afraid of seeming weak, that the world has made you so afraid to be vulnerable- while you still crave the ability to be so.”

His words floated through your sick-addled brain, finding yourself eager to drown in the sound of his voice. “It’s hard..”

“I know luv. But I want you to let me in. I want to be there for you. I’d drop everything and run if you called my name for even a moment.” He promised, reaching up to push sweat slicked strands of hair from your face.

“I’m a mess.” You argued.

“Then let me help you clean it up. I’m by no means perfect either, as much as you might try to put me on a pedestal. Seeing each other clearly is the best thing we could do, because… I… I want more. Maybe I always have. But falling into step with you is easier than falling into anything else.” he exclaimed, glancing toward his window at the golden light that began to fade, growing warmer as the sun dipped beneath the horizon. “I won’t say I can fix you, because I don’t fucking think you’re broken. The fact you’re still here is proof of that.”

Tears stung at the corners of your eyes, the feeling dulled by the fog of exhaustion that had snuck its way around your body. “Am i dreaming?”

“Do you want to be?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“...I don’t know. I’m scared.”

“Me too, but honestly- I’m more terrified of going through life wondering what this could have been if I hadn’t told you.” Kyle admitted, his weight making the bed dip, your body rolling slightly in towards him.

“Kyle…” you breathed, forcing your eyes open, desperate to meet his. “Tell me again when I wake up in the morning. Promise me it isn’t a dream then… because if you say it again, I’ll believe you. God, I want to believe you.” You exclaimed, voice pitched as your lids fell heavy again. “My walls have always been made of glass when it came to you… and you, fucking… stupid, handsome, pure as sunlight you… carried a hammer with you all along.”

Kyle nearly gawked in return, your words painting a most vivid landscape and technicolor sky. A lilac sunrise when he hadn’t known purple was his favorite color. “Luv, I’ll tell it to you every day until you have no choice but to believe it. So for now, sleep. I’ll bring you back some medicine and warm ginger tea…”

“But… you don’t even like tea?” you mumbled, a bit of surprise coloring your tone.

“Yeah, but I like you. You’d be surprised at the pieces of you I keep with me when I wasn’t able to have the real thing.” He explained, resting a hand atop your head so that he might soothingly stroke at your hair, the repeated notion lulling you into slumber. “...but I’ll admit none of it compares to having you here and now.”

When morning came there was a soft weight on your chest- warm, but not unpleasant. Different than the weight of stuffiness and congestion, of the phlegm and cough that had been plaguing you. As your eyes opened and you shifted up to prop yourself on an elbow, you found Gaz beside you in a chair, his head resting on your hip as he slumbered. It couldn’t have been comfortable, draping himself over the edge of his own bed. But like a flood the memories returned, gentle touches and words spoken beneath a setting sun. Every piece of him draped in gold and idolatry.

You pressed your hand to his cheek, before turning your head into your shoulder and coughing. Not truly the way you would have preferred it, but the end goal was the same as he lifted his head, giving you a dizzying smile as he pushed himself up on his arms.

“Mornin’ sweetheart. Get some better sleep last night?” He hummed, voice a bit warmer and gravelly than usual.

For once you’re happy that you don’t currently possess a hold of all your mental faculties, as otherwise you very well may have jumped him right there. But instead, like a reasonably more dignified moron, you found yourself nodding. “...I’m in your bed.”

“Astute observation skills, you should be a detective with that level of perception.” He taunted, reaching to the bedside table and bringing back a mug of now cooled, half drank tea. “It’ll be bitter as hell, but let’s get a bit of fluid into you before you try to get up, sweetheart.”

“Kyle, I'm in your bed.” You stressed again.

“Yes and it’s about time, really.” He sighed, grin cheeky as he watched you go through phases of surprise and confusion. “Alright, alright, calm down Inspector Gadget. You’re gonna give yourself an aneurysm thinking that hard.”

With a steady hand you stole the mug of tea, that even cold, you could tell was your favorite, made just the way you’d prepare it- how long had he known such fine minutiae of your being. How long had he been memorizing the way you existed so he could mimic it for your comfort. “...am not.” You muttered, giving him a half-hearted withering glare over the mug of tea.

The bed dipped again as he sat upon it, pulling you forward by your shoulder before pressing his lips to your forehead. Time itself seemed to suspend, small bits of dust hanging in the air as you relished in the feeling of soft lips and a gentler hand upon your forehead. “I think your fevers finally broken… which makes sense, you seem a bit more with it this morning. I’m relieved.”

Dumbfounded, you lifted your gaze to his lips as he pulled back, before finding their way ever higher to meet the amused deep brown eyes that could churn you like the earth itself. “I feel a bit better today.” You finally admitted, finding your voice again- as thick as it was. “I can probably head home-”

“No.” He exclaimed, shaking his head. “Shoulda known the first thing you’d try to do is free yourself like you think you’re a burden at my side.” Kyle sighed, clenching his jaw for a moment before standing up. Fear struck you, like a white hot iron at your spine. You didn’t want him to leave.

The fear was only present for a moment before you were lifted by your hips and pushed back against the headboard, Kyle climbing atop the bed to straddle your waist and pin your shoulders. “I need you to pay attention, sweetheart.”

Inhaling sharply, you could do little but nod, meeting his gaze with wide eyes and blown pupils. If you weren’t still sick, the places your mind went would trail ever darker. Even now, you could imagine the feel of his lips attacking every sensitive spot from your throat to inner wrist.

“You told me I had to tell you this again, and I should have known you were serious.” He exclaimed, one hand climbing until he cradled your chin between his thumb, pointer and middle finger. “I’m in love with you- and trust me, falling in love with one of my best friends hadn’t been the plan, but God above it was so easy. You are so easy to love, not just for the positive attributes you put on display for everyone, but for the pieces of yourself you show me when we’re alone. For the way you allow yourself to crumble and break just a little bit when you’re with me. For being my safe space. So yes, I meant it last night when I said I wanted you to stay and be with me. Because I��m in love with your dense ass. Just like you’re in love with me. I hate being apart from you. And I hate that we overthink ourselves into these goddamn ruts and it’s kept us apart for even longer than-”

His words were more than enough, but the mounting desperation in his voice, his gaze was enough to spurn you, hands reaching up and cradling his cheeks. “You’re right.” you interrupted softly. “I’m in love with you. Your diligence, your determination… I love all of it, Kyle. When we’re out with friends all I care about is seeing you, because if you’re enjoying yourself then I feel like I can enjoy things too. You make my soul sing, and when it does it’s just trying to mimic whatever you’re humming.”

Kyle’s face broke into a grin, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he pulled your forehead to his. “We’re idiots.” He admitted. “Took us far too long to get here.”

“What matters is that we got here- and I-” unceremoniously the moment was shattered as you abruptly turned away and coughed, groaning through the interrupted moment. “Fuck.”

“You fuck?”

“I take it back, I hate you.” You groaned, hearing the musical rumble of his laugh as he let up off of you, popping out two pills from the packaging on the bedside table.

“No you don’t.” Kyle teased, taking a sip from your mug and tossing the pills into his mouth before grabbing your chin and inclining your head. There was barely a moment to question it before you were met with the feeling of lukewarm tea and medicine pouring past your lips. It was nearly seamless, only a few droplets slipping from your lips as you swallowed back the tea. But for a moment, you both lingered there, the taste of ginger and orange stinging at your lips before leaning into him, unwilling to part with what you’d finally found.

No, you didn’t hate Kyle Garrick. There was little he could do to truly anger you, so hating him was out of the question. He accepted your surrender by wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you closer into his arms as he deepened the kiss. It was warm, making up for lost time. Like two galaxies finally collapsing into each other and spinning into something beautiful and new. You didn’t part until you were breathless, which was unfortunately much sooner than you would have liked.

“You’re gonna get sick.” you whispered.

“If that means I get to stay in bed with you for the rest of my leave, I think it’ll be worth it.” He promised, slowly slumping over onto his side before drawing you into his embrace. He massaged slow, soothing circles into your lower back, his other hand keeping your head tucked against his chest. “I made some soup for you last night, pots on the stove so I can get it simmering again soon.” Kyle murmured. “Stay with me? Ride this out- just stay for the rest of my leave?”

Your laugh, as small as it was, seemed like true music to his ears. A heavenly chorus to a man who hadn’t believed in years. “I’ll stay. Maybe I’ll get the turn to play caretaker once you get sick from kissing me, dumbass.”

“All part of the plan.”

“There’s no plan, Kyle.” You snorted, though your gaze was warm and soft as you both stayed trapped against the sheets.

“Well… just existing with you is good too.” He promised, lips turning up as he brought your foreheads together.

The next two days were spent in a most confusing sort of reverie. Anytime you moved, Kyle shadowed you, his hands covering and guiding yours. Grabbing things before you could think to want them, even carrying you from his bed to his couch as he bundled you up before situating himself beside you. He kept you hydrated, setting timers for your meds and keeping you nearby when your weakened body slept. But as your body grew stronger, the telltale signs of illness began to take their toll on Kyle.

You laughed, as three days later you were nearly normal, and he was standing in the kitchen, head bowed and lips pouty as he looked at you beneath thick lashes.

“I did warn you.” You chastised, moving forward to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

“No regrets.” He grumbled, spinning you in his arms to rest his head atop yours, and keep his hands on your waist. “Think of it as a return on investment.”

“Then I guess we’ll be investing forever, hm?” You teased, chuckling softly as you allowed your weight to lean back into his.

“Rich in love and rich in life… I love you.” Kyle sighed, somehow looking forward to the rest of the week and a half ahead of them, even with the misery of illness looming over him.

“I love you too, forever and always.” You promised.

“Forever and always.”

#cod mw2 #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz x reader #gaz x reader #gaz x female reader #fluff #comfort

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akucat · 2 years

Text

[ port mafia characters looking after their sick s/o ]

❥ request: HIIIII i absolutely love your work! this is my first ever request and i was hoping for a sick (like having a cold or something) reader x bsd port mafia. im not sure if someone has already requested this but if you do accept this thank you so so so muuch 🖤

❥ note: HI ANON ty for requesting and tysm rly happy u like my writing !! included all the pm characters who i write for so ! enoy :] also this isn’t proof read... i’ll do that tmr arvo

❥ pairings: chuuya akutagawa tachihara gin x reader (seperately)

chuuya

he’s kind of in the middle ground of all these characters

he knows how to take care of someone when theyre sick and he knows not to get to close to you

which means he should be perfect at this right...?

wrong!

he constantly wants to be around you when youre feeling ill, what if you need his help and he’s not there??

like he will refuse to let you out of his proximity for even a minute, so he’ll do one of two things

1. move you into his office at the port mafia base (this includes all your belongings as well. all of them.)

he literally bought a pull out couch that turns into a bed just so you have somewhere comfy to sleep

cue akutagawa walking in to talk business with chuuya and youre just passed out on the bed

“... what is all this”

“she’s sick, obviously”

“...’

and then he continues to dump all his missions on his subordinates because obviously he needs to be around you!!!! what if u need water!! or food!! or anything!!

or 2. he will move his office into your apartment you kind of prefer option 1...

this once resulted in MORI coming to the apartment because he needed chuuya and chuuya was too busy helping you to pick up any of his calls.. 😭 having mori in your apartment while you were a snotty red faced mess was not exactly how you wanted your afternoon to go

despite him being a pain in the ass you always appreciate his efforts and at the end of the day, even if youre still feeling unwell, you find being around chuuya always makes your sick days a little better

akutagawa

he takes sicknesses so seriously !!! he knows it isn’t something to take lightly at all and he really tries to help you when you are sick

will try finish all his jobs as soon as possible even if it means killing literally everyone in his way just so he can get home and tend to you

if he’s rly worried over you he’ll ask mori for a day off... and mori gives it to him i mean when has akutagawa ever been this desperate before

i headcanon that gin does all the cooking so he will call her and ask if she can make soups or whatever food you want and she always delivers (i mean youre her brothers partner!! she loves u sm !!!)

he’ll take your fever and will literally hand feed you if your bodys too sore to do it yourself

u only let him stay so close to you because he wears a mask for his own safety when he’s around you

when ur asleep sometimes he’ll sneak you a little forehead kiss but ONLY when your asleep he has an image to uphold here!!

he’ll run you warm baths and will pour in whatever scent and salts are your favourite

and if you’re really sore he’ll even help you wash your body

and these r your FAVOURITE moments with him ever there is nothing better than akutagawa pressing circles into your back with your favourite soap

he’ll end it with a kiss to the top of your head, letting you know he’ll be just outside the door if you need any help HES SO CUTE

he rly just tries anything to make you feel better, he know’s how horrible sickness is, even if all you have is a small cold

when you mention how much he mustve missed you when you’re cuddling in bed once youre feeling better he’ll mumble a small “you wish” but you can feel him smiling into your back

tachihara

hes a bit hopeless... 😭

but will he try his hardest? yes!

he’ll mainly just do whatever you ask him

want water? done! want more blankets? done!!!!

just be careful cuz he will try to cuddle u... you have to push him off of you because

“you look so comfortable :((”

“tachi i have a fever of 38 degrees.”

he will usually just prompt to getting take away another boy who cant cook and will order your favourite food to keep you eating

or if he thinks you need something a little healthier he will also call gin this poor girl 😭😭 and beg her to make u something

usually she would say no there is no way she is going out of her way to help him... but since its you she’ll give in (everyone at the pm is obsessed with you, in gin’s words “i’ll never understand how he managed to pull you”)

if your body feels really sore he’ll give u massages

sometimes you lie about feeling sore because nothing is better than sitting between his legs while he works on your back

and if he catches on to your lie he doesnt even care! nothing is better to him than making you feel comfortable

usually the day will end with him putting a movie on (only if you want to watch something) and he’ll wrap you up in a mountain of blankets and make you some tea

you usually fall asleep during the movie so he’ll give you a chaste forehead kiss and snuggle up next to you cue you getting angry when you wake up to him clinging onto you

gin

just like her brother she takes them seriously

she’ll spend all her free time at your side (despite your protests) and since you refuse to let her indulge in cuddles she’ll prompt to sitting next to you and holding your hand.. and plz just let her do this she misses u sm

since she can’t kiss you she’ll randomly bend down at times and kiss each of your knuckles 😭😭💔💔💔 and if you try to protest she doesn’t care she needs to kiss you one way or another

one time you gave in and let her cuddle you because she was practically begging and it ended up with the two of you sick in bed the next day... you don’t let her do that anymore!

and it’s finally time to use her cooking skills for her own priorities those scabby boys

she’ll cook you soup after soup because she knows even if you do want something that’s not a liquid you’re not gonna be able to eat it anyways, so she spends her time making meals she knows you’ll actually be able to eat

if you’re struggling to eat she’ll sit with you and take her time eating her own meal just so you don’t feel any pressure to rush yourself

and if you can’t eat that’s okay too!! she’ll make you some tea or just water if that’s all you want and will leave you to drink it as you please

she’ll also massage you if you’re feeling sore, she loves doing it too the tenderness of it makes her heart melt

she’ll rub small circles into your forearms, knead the skin on your back and legs, whatever you want!

when you’re tired and want to sleep she’ll layer as many blankets on top of you as you want

she prompts to sleeping on the couch and you usually try to protest because after all she’s done for you she deserves a good nights rest but she refuses your pleads

you usually wake up to her sleeping with you, but you can tell she’s tried to distance herself from you by the gap between your bodies and when she wakes up she’ll greet you with a quick kiss to your crown, you decide she deserves it

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imbeingchokeholded · 1 year

Text

Blissful Peace

Hiya! I'm new to the COD side of tumblr! I have another tumblr named @gimmethosedaddymilkers which is dediacted to RDR2, mainly Arthur, and this tumblr will be more dedicated to COD/Soap specifically because I love him and I feel like there's actually not much for him in terms of fics (at least romantically)

I'm super excited to do it! *mainly for me because I'm mentally unwell and he's got me in a chokehold* but if there's other Soap lovers out there I hope you enjoy this!! (Meaning my blog and not just his piece lmao)

Also this one is probs gonna be a little shorter cause im going off the top of my head on my phone and right before bed so like LMAO

Anyway, with all that being said!

Let's do this!!!

Fluff piece for a first piece until I get some fic requests!

Warnings!: fluff, maybe a mention of sexual endevors, soap being soap, and potenental bad Scottish accent writing because i have no idea how to do it so bare with me unti I figure it out, and Fem! Reader!

John "Soap" Mactavish, a six foot two, muscled, Scottish, military man, was not exactly someone who at first glance looked friendly, sweet, kind, or funny for that matter, in fact he appeared quite threatening, albeit still handsome, Perhaps not as threatening as his 141 partner Simon "Ghost" Riley, but threatening nonetheless.

So you were absolutely positive that if you ever tried to tell someone about the absolutely wonderful circumstances you'd woken up to with him, you'd only recieve a cacophonie of laughter.

The skin of his bare chest was warm against the palm of your hand, and your cheek too, was nearly sizzling from where you had it pressed against one of his pectorals.

He slept soundly, that cute little devilish smile on his face, even in slumber. His hair, usually styled and spiked into his signature mohawk, is now ungelled, and natural, laying against the pillow beneath his head.

He breathes, gentle and steady, healthy, happy even.

It's absolutely heavenly, listening to it, steady, his heartbeat too.

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes again. You'd woken up only ten minutes ago, in your eyes there'd be nothing wrong with going right back to sleep in your husband's arms.

That is until he starts muttering in his sleep and you're compelled to listen.

Most of it is in Scottish, grumbles and groans in low tones that you were sure you probably wouldn't have understood even if they were in English.

One you do recogonize, because he'd told it several times before.

"It's pishin' a doon..."

It's a grumble, hardly very loud at all, but you smile and look out the window.

The sun is shining quite brightly, sending rays of light into your room.

Quietly you laugh and kiss his chest where you can, mumbling under your breath, more for your benefit than his.

"Johnny, I hate to break it to you, but there's not a drop of rain in the sky." You smile against his skin, and chuckle to yourself as he grumbles again and begins to stir, he grips your wait tighter and pulls you to the side as he rolls over.

"Yer...a wee bonnie lass..." he mutters, and then it stops, only to be replaced with soft snores.

You feel your face heat, his voice is low, thick with sleep, and that accent of his never fails to make you happy. Not only that but the short little sentence makes you remenise, remembering the first time he came up to you and requested a date.

You chuckle to yourself and kiss his jaw, which earns a small hum in response.

It's only a few more minutes before he wakes up, his eyes half lidded as he looks at you, and a loopy sort of lopsided grin plastered on his face.

"Mhm...if I dinnae know any better I'd say you had a crush on me miss Y/N, starin' at me like tha'."

"Oh, I'm afraid I'm taken." You smile at him, unable to stop yourself. "It's actualy Mrs. MacTavish to you."

"Taken? And in my bed? Oh, you are an awful cheater then!"

You roll your eyes at him and move to kiss him, a familiar fuzzy warmth preading through your body as his mouth meets yours.

He isn't home all the time. He's gone for months at a time, away on dangerous government missions that he could die on. So you take every kiss, every blissful moment, every physical touch, compliment, everything you can get, as though it's your last.

Having him home, like he is now, makes you happy to no end, but you know as soon as he has to leave again you'll go through the same steps of panic you always do.

But you leave that for a different version of you.

A later version.

For now, you stare into his eyes and listen to his horrible jokes, and kiss him whenever the need creeps up.

For now, things are peaceful.

#cod #cod mwii #soap cod #john mactavish #soap mactavish #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #soap x reader

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threestripeslider · 8 months

Note

So i read ch 11 and it's one of the best chapters yet!

The way Leo spoiled so much for Leonardo made me laugh and remind me how my mom used to do it to get my attention on the soap opera show xD that was such a mood moment xD

I loved how Leonardo offered or more like " asked " leo if he can watch the rerun with him, and how there's a hopeful chance of saying yes.

The kids wanting to watch Game X reminded me of that one OMO art you did where almost everyone are on the couch watching TV as Leonardo and leo carrying about the show! Lol.

At movie night part when Splinter talked about white people saying " it's white people thing " i LAUGHED thinking 'NO SPLINTER YOU DID NOT JUST SAID THAT!!😂'.

And NOW am about to pick a fight with him; WHAT'S WRONG WITH REGULAR PLAIN CORNFLAKES?!?!

Knowing they're heading to hidden city made me remember that one piece of art you made about them about to fight big mama but then F!Leo come in saying " hey mom! ", will it happen?!?!🤩✨

Honestly when the kids left to the market and F!Leo said he's going to dojo i was sad i thought he would've follow them. But i nearly stimmed from excitement when splinter said this I’m not going to save you from the dramatics when they catch you!”

HE KNOWS F!LEO'S GOING AFTER THEM!!! 🤩🤩🤩

AND THE END GAVE ME THE CHILLS!! BIG MAMA KNOWS ABOUT HIM?!?!

i love how i left you all little morsels like breadcrumbs but you somehow ended up face-first in my snack drawer like HELLO?? PLEASE LEAVE SOME FOR THE REST AJHSBJJBDH

also i debated about keeping the Splinter part or not, bc that is literally what i say too on the regular when it comes to horror LMFAO again; i'm filo and in pinoy culture you just dont fuck with spirits and such, asian ghost stories and folklore are fucking TERRIFYING at times, so yeah, i'll just wave goodbye to my white friends if they wanna fuck with an oujia board, im out of there, i am NOT about to end up missing under mysterious circumstances.

i love how some of u were so excited that Leonardo let his paranoia talk him into following the kids JHBBHDJBHF like you all looked at the guy and went "he is So Unwell, i need to watch him get himself into Situations"

and well...i suppose it was time drop another Big Mama hint HEHEHE

waugh! this ask made me giggle so much, i'm glad you enjoyed the chapter so much! THANK YOU!!

#turtle files: ask #omo files: behind the scene #i struggled so hard with this chapter so receiving those kind words really made my evening waugh!!

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polarisbibliotheque · 2 years

Text

Vergil and his s/o taking care of sick Nero

Pairing: Vergil x reader;

Summary: You and Vergil are cooking for a family dinner with Nero after he comes back from a job, but you all are taken by surprise by a sudden sickness. Now it's time for you and Vergil to fill your role as parents - just like Sparda and Eva once did.

Author's notes: This idea was part of this answered ask, but I decided to make its own thing 'cause I have no self control whatsoever and it turned out bigger than it should. I'm bringing you wholesome father Vergil, reader parent and Nero son - I've recently got sick and It's good to know we have someone to care for us. I can't count on too many people, but at least I know I can count on my mom.

Guess I'm in the mood of dreaming with a loving family, even if I'd have to build my own. If you too are like that, don't give up on building your own loving family if that is important to you - all dreams are valid and you shouldn't allow anyone to ruin them.

And also snuck some Apollo and Artemis references there :3 Trigger Warnings: Nero almost feels sick once - there's no description of it, but it is hinted as Vergil asks his s/o to bring something to help Nero while he is unwell. The scene cuts right after to them both taking care of the kid ;)

“Hey there! Sorry I’m late…”

Nero almost stumbled back home, you and Vergil stopping your cooking to look at him.

“Are those the eggs you asked for, y/n? Dunno if it’s the ones you buy… Normally…”

You did your best only to smile and not let out a laugh. Nero was completely drenched in demon blood, dripping it on the wooden floor, with Red Queen still flaming and strapped on his back while he carefully held a pack of dozen eggs you asked him to buy for you before he went to work.

In your eyes, he looked so cute. Like a half demon kid with the strength of an army and the very fires of Hell in his soul, bringing home a cute puppy and asking his parents to keep it. But you could notice Vergil’s cold eyes scrutinizing the mess his son was making in the living room.

“They are perfect, Nero. Thank you so much, you always help me a lot.” You immediately wiped your hands clean, walking towards him and pulling a proudly smiling Nero to kiss a clean spot of skin in his forehead.

He seemed weirdly hot, but you dismissed it for a while. Nero was out there fighting and slaying demons, his body was bound to rise its temperature – also, you had noticed on Vergil their bodies seemed to run a little hotter than plain humans.

Something you always wanted to ask him about, but never got the opportunity.

“Now, now. Stop dripping blood on the floor and go have a shower. You smell terrible, kid.” You chastised him, making Vergil look a little less dissatisfied. He knew it would be his job to clean the floor – you had already made most of the cooking, it was the least he could do.

“Ah, sorry… I was, ya know. There was a bunch of demons to beat up today!” Nero flared in red, and he had a cheeky smile plastered on his lips, making you giggle in response. That only made his smile broader, while Vergil couldn’t stop his own expression from allowing a slight adoration on his own lips.

“Like father, like son, I guess.” You looked back at your lover, winking at Vergil and making both father and son completely out of words and actions.

“Ya know, had to do a job well done… It pays better.” Nero sighed and ran towards his room in order to have his shower. “Gonna wash all this grime off in a sec! Don’t have dinner without me!”

“We will wait, dear!” You answered in a sing-song voice, making Nero practically jump inside the bathroom to take his shower as fast as he could.

As the water fell on his head and painted the floor with red, Nero’s hair gradually became white again. He scrubbed his sore muscles with the floral soap you usually bought – the scents Kyrie also loved buying – and sighed in relief as the warm water made the pain disappear for a while.

Nero could feel his heart beating faster as he tried to wash himself as quickly as he could while seizing the relaxation of the water at the same time. A little headache installed itself at the back of his head, but all he could think about was how excited he was to have dinner with you and Vergil.

For years, all he wished for was a family. Nero remembered when he was a teen in Fortuna, already too big for his own bed, curled up with a pillow while staring out the window and asking the Moon if he could ever find his parents.

Not that Kyrie’s and Credo’s parents weren’t good to him – they were, but Nero never really felt like a part of the family. That was why he never saw Kyrie as his real sister and Credo was more like a mentor from the Order – even if he didn’t obey Credo that much. His adoptive parents were good, but they were too… Polite. Almost as if Nero was a guest, an outsider they should care for, not really a loved son.

But you made him feel different. He thought he would feel weird with Vergil as his father and Dante as his uncle, but, well… Their entire household was weird. They all had different traumas and different ways of showing affection – and then, there was you. Your affection was always so direct, so heartwarming.

Nero felt he could let his guard down around you and you’d never allow anything to hurt him. He didn’t have to live in survival and self-protection mode when he was around you, for he knew you would do that for him.

Feeling that was a sort of… Relief. Nero knew you and Vergil had his back and would never let him down – and that, on his book, was what families were about.

“Hey, kiddo! Everything alright? You’re taking a while on that shower!” He was brought back from his thoughts as he heard you knocking on the bathroom’s door.

“Yeah, sorry! Just a sec, y/n, I’ll be out!” Nero stuck his head out of the box to hear you better, managing to hear a quick laugh.

“Ok. Just don’t take too long, or you’re paying the water bill!”

“Ha, fine! I’ll be out soon, I swear!” Shaking his head while laughing, Nero massaged his shoulders for a while before turning the water off. He felt a weird kind of pain in his muscles, but it should be nothing…

…Right?

“Nero, could you please put the plates on the table? I will help y/n serving dinner…”

“Yeah… Sure thing… Dad…”

Both Vergil and you turned around with eyebrows furrowed to check him out. Nero’s speech was slightly slurred and, as soon as you saw him, you knew something was wrong. His steps were unsure, and Nero blinked too much, almost as if he was trying to focus on a spot he was staring on the floor as he approached the dinner table.

“Nero, are you…? Verge! Hold him!”

You didn’t even have to scream that order: as soon as Nero’s steps faltered and he was about to fall, Vergil moved faster than the eyes could see and held his son up. Running towards them, you immediately put your hand on Nero’s forehead, stating what you had suspected before.

“He’s burning. He needs to sit down.”

“I’m taking him to the couch.” Vergil’s words were quick and somber, as he dutifully held his son in his arms.

“I can walk… I’m fine…” Nero mumbled, trying to fight Vergil’s hands and walk by himself, but his feet clearly didn’t answer properly to his commands.

“You are not fine. Stop trying to foolishly hold on to your pride.” Vergil said almost between his teeth – not really angry at Nero, but angry at the whole situation. When Nero got sick, he wasn’t too versed on human medicine… Taking care of his son was something only you could do with excellence, while Vergil just sat and watched.

And he hated that.

“Like father, like son.” You sighed once more, running to the kitchen in order to turn off the stove and make sure nothing was going to burn.

“I’m not… Holding on… To pride…” Nero thumped down on the couch, almost looking like a sack of potatoes. “I can…”

“You can’t. Period.” Vergil sat at the edge of the couch, trying to hold Nero upright.

It was quite a scene, actually. You never thought you would see one of the Sparda’s on their pajamas, let alone two. And in such an ordinary situation like that.

You almost laughed as Nero clearly wanted to answer Vergil, almost hearing his voice saying something along the lines of “you didn’t even know what I was going to say”, but Nero suddenly sat up and rested his elbows on his knees.

Both you and Vergil stopped, eyes paying attention to Nero’s every move. You waited as he closed his eyes and slightly opened his mouth, starting to blink a little too much once again and breathe heavily.

“Nero…?” Vergil tried, but he didn’t answer. He placed his palm on Nero’s forehead, feeling the skin burning while also holding his son up. Nero seemed to lay his weight on his father’s palm – and Vergil wouldn’t let him fall on the floor. “Y/n! Bring a bucket!”

You didn’t even argue – you just moved as fast as you could. Nero needed both of you at that moment, and you would be there.

Nero spent the whole night feeling sick and feverish, seeming as if he was going to pass out and almost fainting a couple of times. You, as always, stood by his side, ordering Vergil around to help you care for Nero’s human body – now stricken by illness and needing you.

As his fever didn’t fade away at first, you asked Vergil for help to put him under the shower again – wearing only his underwear as you adjusted the water temperature. Nero complained about how cold it felt, even if it was good enough for someone without fever. You remained with him, trying to calm him down, holding Nero’s hands while checking if he wasn’t going to faint.

Asking Vergil to warm up some water with lemon, ginger and honey, you helped Nero to dry, fluffing up his white hair and seeing how he smiled like a goofy puppy as his high fever had been washed away. You helped Nero put on a comfortable and warm pajama’s – even if he insisted he didn’t need any assistance – and held his arm as both of you slowly walked back to the kitchen.

You gave him medicine, Vergil gave him the tea. You kept checking Nero’s temperature from time to time with your hand, as Vergil would always use a thermometer – it was only when Nero was burning up with fever that his father could notice it from just touching.

You insisted Nero should eat something – even if he complained he didn’t feel like it. Vergil was a little more emphatic than you, but eventually managed to convince his son to eat a few toasts with butter and jam after he himself decided to have a few along with tea.

“Who would’ve known? Nero’s tea party!” You giggled while serving tea, toasts, jam and butter to all of you – the carefully planned and prepared dinner forgotten in the fridge, as you asked Vergil to put it away while caring for Nero.

“You guys ‘re the ones who like tea parties…” Nero almost mumbled, his voice too tired to take on his usually lively tone. You wrapped him around a plushy blue blanket, resting a kiss on the top of his fluffy white hair.

“I guess you can enjoy them too, kiddo.” You ruffled his hair a little bit and, instead of complaining like he always did, Nero had a cozy smile on his lips, accepting his 2 a.m tea party with both his parents.

It took a while for his temperature to go back to normal. You and Vergil carried Nero to his bed on his room and you made sure to wrap him around blankets and pillows. He fell asleep almost immediately, his body needing to rest.

“Do you need me to bring anything, love?” Vergil asked almost in a murmur, in order not to wake his son.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll stay here in case he needs something. Can you put all the dishes away in the kitchen, please…?”

Vergil just acquiesced with his head, planting a long kiss on your forehead – one that made you close your eyes and take a deep breath. You weren’t perfect, but you were family – and that was all the three of you ever wanted.

Nero woke up as the sun started to enter his room. It was early – probably too early for him – but he managed to open his eyes anyway. His head hurt and he could remember all the work you both had to take care of him that night.

He wondered if you were sleeping in your room – which would give him an opportunity to make breakfast as a way to thank you and apologize for all the inconvenience, if he could get up.

But, as soon as Nero turned around, he was speechless: you and Vergil were sitting on the small couch of his room – him with arms crossed while you had your head on his shoulder, holding his head leaning on yours. Both of you looked exhausted; your mouth was slightly opened while Vergil had dark stains under his eyes.

Nero furrowed his eyebrows, without being able to pinpoint what the hell was going on with his heart. He thought for sure it had something to do with the illness that struck him so suddenly.

He pretended to be asleep again, though – keeping his eyes barely opened – when he heard Vergil’s alarm go off. It was barely 6 a.m, and both of your started moving as if you hadn’t slept that much.

“Hmmm… What time is it…?” Your voice was slurred and sleepy, one of your hands tugging at Vergil’s shirt.

“Early.” He limited himself to answer, combing his fingers through your hair and kissing your forehead once again. “You checked on him earlier while I was sleeping… It is my turn now, love. Rest.”

“You sure…?”

“Hmmm. Sleep now, love.” And, with those words, Vergil got up from his seat while you curled up on the couch to go back into slumber.

Nero had never seen his father so… Human. Vergil looked tired, dragging his dark blue slippers on the floor, approaching the bed as if he hadn’t rested for weeks. Rolling up the sleeves of his dark blue pajama, Vergil laid one of his hands on Nero’s forehead – clearly trying to check the temperature like you did. When he failed, he succumbed to the thermometer while ruffling Nero’s hair to wake him up.

“Hmmm…?” Nero pretended to open his eyes for the first time that morning, only to find a tired Vergil holding one pill in one of his hands and a glass of water in the other.

“It’s time for your medicine, Nero. You can go back to sleep after taking it.”

“Oh. Thanks…” And Nero would’ve taken it by himself if Vergil didn’t help him – just like you did. “And y/n…?”

“Hmmm. Y/n stayed up all night to watch over you while you slept. It’s my turn now.” Vergil’s voice was low, almost soft. “You can rest now.”

“Thanks… You two.”

As Vergil went back to the couch to serve as your pillow, Nero pretended to go back to sleep – but watched you both for a moment. He didn’t notice as some tears started to sparkle in his aquamarine eyes, threatening to overflow in that morning as that golden wave on his chest made him lose his breath for a while.

You were his family… You were his parents. And Nero smiled, while a few tears escaped from his eyes, and he went back to sleep – the Sun bringing what he had always asked the Moon.

His home.

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forestshadow-wolf · 9 months

Text

Ghost: do you guys ever wish you could unzip your skin and beat the dust out of it, like you would a rug?

Price:

Ghost: I do

Soap: I do

Ghost: all the time actually

Gaz:

Ghost: I think I'd be good for me

Price:

Price: okay, everyone, I think it's time to get some mental health icecream. Simon I'm very proud of you for sharing, but the only one who also feels like that is soap. And I'm pretty sure it's because he's clinically insane.

#el rambles #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod #simon ghost riley #john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #ghostsoap #soapghost #incorrect cod quotes #incorrect quotes #soap is clinically insane #ghost is unwell in the head #soap is also unwell in the head

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karskilledme · 1 year

Text

Two for one - BruAbba x Fem!Reader NSFW

I’m a big simp for BruAbba x reader so I had to make this. Basically, you’re sick hanging out with Mr. Abbacchio whose also sick and he makes the moves on you. Your hot capo shows up and is like hey let me join bbs ;)

Content Warnings: Vaginal sex, oral sex on female, fingering, booby play, cucking(Kind of, maybe there’s a better word), badly written smut.

Word count: 2977

Do not interact if you’re a minor 18+ only! NSFW under the cut.

After Abbacchio went and got you sick you’d figured it couldn’t hurt any worse to continue bothering him while you suffered. It was his fault so he’d have to deal with you. That’s how you found yourself seated next to him watching some stupid soap opera on his bed, at an appropriate distance of course. Maybe he didn’t know it but you hadn’t paid attention to a single word the tv said. Your ears were a hum with the awe that filled your love struck brain. His alabaster skin glowed with the sheen of sweat from his cold. Plump, oh so kissable lips, parted slightly due to his stuffy nose. Daring to cover even an inch of his sculpted features was his silver hair that lay unstyled and messy. To some this was the image of an obviously unwell man but to you this was the image of perfection. If he had noticed your staring he didn’t take mind and made no move to stop you.

Some time later you had managed to vaguely catch on to what was happening in the show but it wasn’t really your type of thing. In fact, bothering the man next to you sounded much more interesting. You shifted slightly towards him and hummed for attention.

“Abba, tell me what you think, did orange the fruit, or orange the color come first?” You asked, finger on your chin in a mockingly quizzical expression. His eyes briefly flickered from the show towards you before quickly deciding the show was more interesting. He grunted. “That’s a stupid question.” He paused as the show got intense, his slightly agape mouth twitching in interest. “Orange the fruit obviously.” He said quite matter a factly. You frowned and put your balled fists on your sides. “What makes you think that? How would they know to call it an orange if the color wasn’t the reason?” You demanded. Abbacchio paused his show and looked at you with a small smirk. “An orange was an orange before English had a name for the color dummy.” You frowned harder at this new found revelation and sulked.

Abbacchio watched your pitiful display before patting your shoulder. The sudden touch sent a jolt of excitement through you. Your eyes met his quickly.

“We can’t all be smart, it’s ok. You, Mista, Narancia. Me and Bruno have enough brains to cover for you all.” He teased. Your elatement at his touch quickly turned to fake hurt as you gasped and fell backwards on the bed covering your face. A horrendously fake sob wracked your body. “Oh how could you be so mean to me Abba!” You cried, hamming up the drama. “My heart is broken, I’ll never recover.” The bed shifted under you as he suddenly moved to pin you. You peaked through your fingers to see if it was true and there he was, just inches away from you. While your nerves began to betray you the act couldn’t end yet; fake sobs continued. Suddenly your hands were ripped from your face as he pinned your arms besides your head. Oh shit! Was all you could think, surprise evident on your fully red face. Abbachio’s own heart was racing. He wasn’t often forward; the only thing that allowed him to be so now was his comfort with you. Not to mention that there was a plan in motion with a goal to be reached between him and Bruno.

Abbacchio leaned down, his hot breath tickling your lips. “Don’t cry my tesoro.” He teased, his plump lips pulled into a cocky grin. If he wasn’t a hardened gangster there was no way he would have been able to keep this cool demeanor. Your slightly panicked face was doing him something wild. Your widened (E/C) eyes staring him down so intently, glowing skin that looked so soft and kissable, your lips that trembled slightly practically begging to be his. God you were just so delectable.

You had ended your act by now, all of your attention placed on him. The tension grew palpable as you stared into eachothers eyes. Neither of you had dared make a move since you were pinned, not that you had much choice as you were easily overpowered. The knot in your stomach clenched at your own thoughts. You just had to kiss him, it was now or never. Your eyes were partly lidded as you began your slow approach. Abbacchio’s lips tasted of tea and were perfectly soft, magical really. The way your heart exploded on impact left you breathless and your brain swimming in bliss. He pulled away softly and pressed his forehead to yours.

“ Sei la miglior cosa che mi sia capitata” He whispered(You’re the best thing that happened to me). Your fingers ghosted his cheek feeling their overwhelming warmth, a mix of sickness and embarrassment. “Abba… you make me so happy. I’ve waited for this for so long.” Cutting off your own sentiment you quickly moved in for another kiss only this time more intense. An ache of passion and the feeling of ‘Finally!’ fueled your movements.

A soft knock broke you apart. Abbacchio’s eyes met yours briefly, keying you in that something was up but what? He made his way to the door before stepping out into the hall. Whispers could be heard by you but what they discussed was indiscernible. Shortly he reentered followed by none other than your capo Bruno. You shot up in bed. “A-Ah- Bruno! I mean Capo!” You stammered. Bruno smiled softly and chuckled, “No need for the formalities, Bruno is more than fine when it’s coming from you my principessa.” he said. Your heart lurched once more, the knot that had begun to dissipate doubling its hold. Abbacchio had sat back down next to you while Bruno found a seat at Abbacchio’s desk across from the bed. Your eyes glanced towards Abbacchio for reassurance which earned a soft thigh squeeze.

“We wanted to talk to you.” He started, looking towards Bruno now. The short haired male nodded before piercing you with his trained gaze. His eyes were intense but not in a way of malice, they were friendly as ever, since the day you first met him he’d exuded positivity. It would be a lie to say you weren’t extremely interested in both of the men that sat before you but was that alright? Bruno was always so kind to you but you also admired his character and resolve. He was no doubt a beacon of hope for everyone around him and he was always sure to fill that role. On the other hand Abbacchio lured you in with his witty and interesting personality, not to mention his beautiful looks. It was hard to win him over at first but he was oh so worth it, the side of him that you got to enjoy now was so caring and humorous though he always showed these traits through his actions rather than his words. It also couldn’t be argued that he wasn’t a man of character who stood resolute in his beliefs. How could someone choose?!

Your attention was brought back to focus as Bruno began to speak. “You see (Y/n), me and Abbacchio have always had a close relationship but for a while now we’ve also had our eyes on you.” He scooted the chair closer to the bed and grabbed your smaller hands in his. Abbacchio’s grip on your thigh tightened. “We’d like to date you, both of us. You can say no if you want but we would be more than delighted if you felt the same.” He paused, looking down at your interlocked hands with a squeeze. “It’s also ok if you only have feelings for Abbacchio and not me.” Bruno was always one to reassure those he cared about and this was no exception, he didn’t want you to feel pressured in any way. You bit your lip and looked between the two.

“Of course I feel the same but is it really ok? I’ve never… never been in a relationship let alone one with two partners!” you questioned. Bruno chuckled softly, rubbing his thumb on your hand. “If you want us and we want you why wouldn’t it be? We’re all consenting adults here, sciocco.” Your teeth resumed their hold on your lip. The knot in your stomach was tied with metal chains. You peeked a glance at Abbacchio with questioning eyes. He nodded in confirmation and you sighed.

“Ok, no more worrying! I would love to date you both! If you’ll have me I’d be more than happy.” You exclaimed. The men grinned at each other before enveloping you in a warm hug. Bruno was the first to pull away, citing the two of you being sick. “I’ll head to the store to grab the two of you some medicine, do you need anything else, amores?” Bruno asked, approaching the door. After noting your needs he took leave and left you and Abbacchio alone once more.

The mood was noticeably different after Abbacchio and Brunos shared confession. Your worry had dissipated completely but it only made you painfully aware of a different sensation, your need. Warmth filled your lower half and a tingling of desire had you rubbing your thighs together oh so slightly. You figured it was the excitement of the situation that got you so worked up combined with the fact that you were in a very attractive mans bed; a man that was now your boyfriend.

Abbacchio had pulled you back up to your previous resting position the only difference being that you were now attached to him. You nuzzled your head into the crook of his exposed neck. You couldn’t help yourself from nipping and kissing at the soft skin.

“Oh. Eager already?” Abbacchio spoke with confidence but much like earlier it was a cool facade to mask his nervousness. He pressed your shoulder lightly to allow himself a chance to meet you in a kiss. You could feel the eagerness in his kiss. His hands trailed your sides slipping under the hem of your top before he pulled back to check in with you. After getting your confirmation he was back to work, nipping your bottom lip not quite softly but not enough to seriously hurt either. Your tongues quickly met in a battle of dominance, his warm appendage moving with skill as it curled and pushed against your own. His hands, which were warm with fever, had found their way up to your breasts. He gave them a hungry squeeze before his long digits moved to flick and squeeze them.

Just as the two of you thought the kissing might lead to more Bruno reentered, shopping bags in tow. He shut the door quickly with a soft, breathy chuckle.

“It seems a show is about to start.” he said. You blushed at his implication but Abbacchio only smirked, looking at him from his caging position above you.

“You’d love that wouldn’t you Bruno.” He said, putting special emphasis on Bruno. You shivered in anticipation beneath Abbacchio, your eyes still fixed on Bruno.

“You mean like.. You just want to watch?” You questioned, your innocence evident. Bruno nodded and plopped himself back at Abbacchios desk. “Of course. I’d love to watch my two amato together. You’re both sick so I can’t exactly join.” He said as if it were a very obvious fact.

You hummed in ponder. “So should I pay attention to you too or do you want me to ignore you? I’m not really sure how this kind of thing works ya know.” You said, a nervous chuckle following. Abbacchio made himself busy on your neck, clearly not too interested in your questions about Brunos cucking situation. You moaned softly as Abbacchio sucked on your sweet spot.

“You can ignore me if it would make you more comfortable but I’d love some of your attention too.” As he said this, Bruno slipped his pants down mid thigh. His cock was already visibly hard and ready to spring free. You bit your lip and nodded, turning your attention back to the stimulation at hand.

Minutes had passed of you and Abbacchio passionately battling it out through a clash of tongues. He pulled away and began to pull your clothes off in a frenzy. You were nervous of course but knowing you were in very secure hands put you at ease instantly. Your own hands began to strip Abbacchio of his loungewear. Drool practically pooled in your mouth as you drank in his physique. His alabaster skin was chiseled with soft abs, marked with scars both old and new; it was evidence of his hard life. He smirked at your awe but was internally grateful that you hadn’t just up and left upon seeing him, he was always too hard on himself.

Both fully nude, Abbacchio resumed kissing you but not on the lips. His soft kisses trailed from your chin down to your breast where he took a moment to pamper each one. He kissed your nipple softly, sending a shiver through you, before he swirled his tongue around it. Finally he gave it a quick suck before moving on to the next. Your cunt throbbed at the attention, a slick mess forming between your thighs. Your body was begging for more. As if he read your mind, his hands trailed down to your thighs, one grabbing them apart and the other making its way to your slick folds. His fingers teased your clit as he sucked away on your nipple.

The pleasure was immense but you couldn’t help but think about Bruno. You glanced over to the shorter haired man only to get blessed with quite the beautiful sight. There he sat, pants and boxers now at his ankles. His hand gently and slowly working himself as he watched. You couldn’t help but stare as you noticed his top was undone revealing the intricate lingerie he always wore. Bruno offered you a strained smile and seemed to urge you to rejoin your session.

As your attention shifted back Abbacchio was on the move again. His lips continued their trail of kisses down your belly before stopping at your navel. He looked up at you just inches above your aching heat. “Abba pleeaase. I really need you.” You practically begged. He smirked and placed a kiss at the top of your slit before moving in. His fingers. which had been massaging your clit, now made their way to your slicked entrance as his tongue took their place. A moan of pleasure ripped through you, your back arching off the bed but your butt glued in place from his firm grasp. You were already close just from the little that had happened but you never wanted it to end. His tongue worked in skilled precision. He swirled circles on your clit, occasionally grabbing it with his lips for an ultra soft tug. “F-fuck… Abba I’m so- agh - close!” You moaned. Your words kicked him into overdrive as he worked double to push you over the edge. The warmth in your core exploded in a shockwave of tingles.

You heaved out a breathy sigh of relief as he made his way to his knees. You looked at Bruno once more and noticed he was still moving at quite a leisurely pace. Abbacchio flipped you over with ease and positioned you so you were both facing Bruno. Your ass was hoist into the air, your pussy still ready and anxious to be filled. Abbacchios dick lined up your entrance and slid up and down your folds before pushing in. He was average in girth but lengthy. Your slick helped you quickly adjust as he slowly pushed to hilt.

“You’re treating her so good amore mio.” Bruno breathed out, enjoying your display. Abbacchio met eyes with him as he thrust into you, eliciting a sharp but pleasant yelp from you.

“I bet you can’t wait to join us. Get a taste of her yourself.” Abbacchio said, lightly gripping your chin and guiding you to look at Bruno.

You looked at Bruno absolutely blissed out. Bruno was entranced by the swinging of your gorgeous breast as Abbacchio pound into you. Bruno couldn’t lie, he wanted to be entangled with the two of you more than anything but Capos didn't have time to get sick so this was the next best thing. Besides he found the both of you incredibly attractive so this was definitely the best jerk off material a guy could ask for.

Your hands gripped the bed with everything you had. You didn’t expect Abbacchio to be a gentle lover based off his personality so it was no surprise he was fucking you like his life depended on it. Not that you were complaining, you couldn’t when he was doing such a good job hitting your g spot over and over again.

You bit into your wrist as the pressure began to build signaling your next orgasm. It was evident in Abbacchios movements that he was getting close to, he began to grow ragged and shaky, his dick twitching and swelling inside you. You let out a cry of ecstasy, your pussy squeezing and milking his pounding cock. He grunted, “G-god!” and not but seconds later did he spill into you, filling you to the brim with his hot cum. As the two of you settled you were happy to see that Bruno had came as well. “Hope you enjoyed the show Bambola.” Abbacchio teased, crashing down next to you. Bruno smiled and moved to clean himself up. “How could I not? Though next time I hope to star in it.” He said with a wink. You couldn’t believe it still, even after getting your brains fucked out while your hot capo watched. Two boyfriends?!

#bruabba #bruabba x reader #leone abbachio x reader #bruno bucciarati x reader #bruno bucellati x reader #leone abbacchio #bruno bucciarati #bruno buccellati #jjba #jjba part 5 #jjba x reader #smut #bad smut #haleywritesstuff

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yespolkadotkitty · 2 years

Text

Wolfe in Sheep's Clothing, pt 13

I'm sorry it's been 600 years. I wonder if anyone is still interested!

Words: 1400 ~ Pairing: Pero Tovar x OFC Beatrix Wolfe ~ Content: swears

Masterlist of all chapters here

“Do you have any idea how worried I was? Your maid came to tell me you were unwell and that I wasn’t to see you - you could have died, Bea! I was out of my mind!”

Bea worried her lower lip between her teeth as her father chewed her out. She deserved it, she knew that, but it made it no easier.

“You are my only heir. You will carry on the Wolfe lineage! And you almost sacrificed it, for what? To ride your horse five minutes longer?”

“It was only a little rain,” Bea murmured, feeling six years old again.

“You must be more careful!” Lord Wolfe knelt before her, taking her hands in his larger ones. “Sometimes I look at you and see the small child you were. I didn’t take risks with her and I won’t take risks with you. Do you understand?” He frowned, pressing his lips to the backs of her hands, gently. “I’m not convinced that the mercenary - the foreign one - is a good influence.”

Bea scoffed. “He saved me from Sir Gareth!”

Lord Wolfe rose to his feet, sighing, his gaze scanning the walls of her room before landing on her again. “Be that as it may. He is wild, and I want you to walk the path appropriate for a lady. I will have William accompany you from today onwards.”

Bea bit the inside of her cheek to stop a retort. Defending Tovar would not help him.

“Very well,” she said, hollowly.

Lord Wolfe cupped her cheek. “You are your mother’s daughter, my precious girl, and I care for you deeply.”

You care for your legacy deeply, Bea almost snipped at him, but stopped herself. She was being unfair and she knew it.

Her father could have made her wed Sir Gareth. Could have turned a blind eye to his overstepping and brutish behaviour, but he’d sided with her, and she was grateful for that, and everything else he had done for her.

She leaned up to kiss his cheek. “I know you do, father.”

He smiled at last. “Perhaps you should rest. I’ll arrange for a meal to be brought up to your room.”

Bea swallowed. She couldn’t stay here, looking at the bed she’d seen Heaven in with Tovar - with Pero.

“I’d like to eat with everyone else. If that is all right with you.”

“That’s my girl. Come down when you’re ready.”

Bea gave him a smile and then let it drop when the door closed behind him.

A few seconds later, Matilda poked her head in.

“My lady?”

“Come in, Matilda.”

Her maid’s face was suspended in concern. “You are quite well?”

“Yes.” Bea embraced her, breathed in her lavender soap scent. “Thankyou. I’d like to join everyone for breakfast. Perhaps you would see to my appearance?”

Bea sat between William and her father during the meal.

Pero sat four tables away from them, with the other servants, liveried footmen, and such. He picked at his food, simultaneously trying to sneak looks at Bea and also not make it obvious that he was trying to look.

It was exhausting.

Mierda, he’d be lucky to ever get within six feet of her ever again.

He should leave now. Return to Spain. Or, travel this country in search of more work. He would need to leave William, he supposed. But the Irishman seemed settled here, and interested in Bea’s lady’s maid, Matilda.

It would be a good life. William deserved that.

Tovar deserved nothing. He’d been a breath away from stealing Bea’s innocence. In a way, he’d taken some of it already.

But he couldn’t regret that, not for a single heartbeat.

After the meal, none of which he tasted, he wore himself to exhaustion mucking out the stables, patrolling the perimeter, and taking on any menial tasks that needed to be done. He worked harder than he had in months, if not years.

By the end of the day, he opted to take supper with the kitchen staff, to avoid seeing Bea dressed in her finery for dinner.

When he finally dragged his exhausted old bones back to the room he shared with William, the Irishman was waiting there, a smug little smile on his irritatingly handsome face.

“What?” Pero all but snarled.

“Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, did we?” William, the little shit, asked.

“If I were you, I would move out of the way, pendejo,” Tovar grunted.

William held out a folded piece of paper. “Even if I have a message for you?”

Interest stirred Tovar out of his mood, and he took the parchment from his friend.

Meet me in the orchard when the moon is up

I need to see you

“La hostia,” Pero breathed. “My head will be separated from my fool body if I go. It would be insanity of the highest order.”

William folded his arms. “But you will go. I can see it on your face. And I’m going with you. If it all goes to shit, I’ll say Lady Wolfe asked me to take her on a walk because she couldn’t sleep.”

Pero arched a brow. “You think that will work?”

“Christ, no. But it’s better than the alternative, which is letting her out alone.”

Pero snorted. “Si. When the moon rises, then.”

***

Bea waited nervously under the branches of the biggest apple tree. Would he come? Had William given him the note?

Maybe he’d had his fill of her last night. Perhaps he would move on. Had she imagined the softness in his gaze when he’d touched her?

William stood a polite few feet away, hand on his scabbard. Bea trusted the Irishman. He was sweet, kind, funny.

A pity that he did not appeal to her on the level that Tovar did.

“Princesa.”

Her heart leapt and she turned to catch Pero’s gaze, dark amber under the hood of a grey cloak. “You came!”

She launched herself into his arms and he caught her, and she all but purred in delight at being so close to his warm, broad body.

She had a moment to wonder anxiously if maybe he had tired of her now they had been naked together, but then he buried his face in her hair and murmured, “I missed you, bonita. It is insanity, but it is true.”

Bea lifted her face for his kiss, and for heartbeats that stretched, they got lost in each other.

“Is this all we shall ever have?” Bea whispered into his neck. “Stolen moments under apple trees?”

Pero sighed, stroking small circles with the pad on his thumb on the small of her back. “Were I a better man, I would let you go. But I am not. I am greedy, and I want whatever time I can steal with you, for as long as you will stoop to be with me.”

A crack tore through Bea’s heart. “I am not stooping. You are worth a thousand of spoiled brats like Sir Gareth. I wish there were a way to show my father that.”

They held on to each other, not speaking. Bea listened to the steady thrum of Pero’s heart under her ear.

“My lady. As sorry as I am to interrupt, the guard will be changing soon,” William intoned a few feet away. “We can’t be caught.”

Bea squeezed Pero tight. He returned the hold, as if he was trying to press the memory of her into the lines of his body, and then he cupped her face for a deep, tender kiss.

William snagged her hand and Bea glanced back over her shoulder at the line of her lover, tall and proud and broad, in his black cloak. The moonlight kissed the outline of his figure against the column of the tree. She would have given anything to run away with him, and never have to look back.

----

Tags: @poenariuniverserse @sarahjkl82-blog @thirstworldproblemss @disgruntledspacedad @filthybookworm @frannyzooey @astroboots @littlemissthistle

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#pero tovar x ofc #the great wall fic #pero tovar #pedro pascal fanfiction #sorry it's been 84 years

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