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aethelwyneleigh27 · 6 months

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Dad!Cod Scenarios

I had thoughts on these racked up in my brain about CoD characters having kids and what type of parents they'd be in a scenario or drabble manner.

Tag list: @puff0o0, @simp4konig, @blingblong55, @azereus, @rustic-guitar-notes, @shadofireshinobi, @anonymuslydumb, @skeletalgoats, @icarustypicalfall, @ghosts-cyphera,@connorsui is at it again, making me blush over her words, AHHHHH I LOVE HER. Did I tag almost everyone I know here? Yes, yes I did 😭

Characters Included: John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, König, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Gary "Roach" Sanderson.

(Implied?? Wife!Reader, Parent!Reader. Not really specified, so gender neutral!Reader)

❥ Dad!John Price is the type of dad who'd fondly tell your kids about how you met, tell them stories about his time in the army, his experiences with their uncles and aunts from 141. Enjoying how their little faces express something great, admiring how cool their dad was for being so brave to constantly and willingly put his life on the line in the means of saving people. They tried telling him that they want to follow in his footsteps but that is a big no no. The last thing he wants is them willingly throwing themselves in danger and the risk was far too much.

❥ Dad!Johnny MacTavish is the type of dad to make his kids laugh by blowing raspberries on whatever body part his kids are ticklish on, he enjoys hearing their laughter and giggles. Definitely is the man who grew up with quite a big family so he'd love to have a full house if you were up to having it with him. He's such a family man to the bone, knows how things work around and mostly knows what to say and do when it comes to the kids.

❥ Dad!Kyle Garrick is the type of dad to dance with his kids, letting them have their little feet on top of his, letting them pick the music and guiding the little one. Having them smile and look up at him, his little one thinking it was just the best thing in the world to spend quality time with their dad. Swaying them around while they call him giggling, letting out squeals after he spins them. (I NEED GIRL DAD!GAZ 🥺😭)

❥ Dad!Simon Riley is the type of dad who absolutely HATES it when his kids cry, always doing his best to console them, depending on what made them upset. Being the one to patch them up when it's because of a "boo-boo", god forbid it's because of another person, he'd either make that kid piss themselves or that adult will NEVER see the light of day again. Because of that, the little one always finds themselves looking for their dad's comfort.

❥ Dad!Gary Sanderson who is the type of dad who finds so many ways to make his kid feel appreciated, whether that'd be through letting them help out and make them feel needed, thanking them and returning the favor for handmade gifts on days like Father's day or Valentine's day. The little one is always so eagerly awaiting for their dad to come home, knowing he'd be bearing so meaningful gift that goes in the memory box.

❥ Dad!Alejandro Vargas who is the type of dad who's strict but also not at the same time. Safe to say he did not have fun when Soap taught his kid to curse in Spanish when he first met the kid, that was probably Alejandro's fault for teaching Soap Spanish curses anyway. That kid is going to be loved I tell you, Alejandro has taken them to work just so they can see what he does and safe to say they loved being around everyone that Alejandro works with. (More likely that they still do this together however Alejandro is VERY strict since it's dangerous for the kid to even be out there)

❥ Dad!Rodolfo Parra who is the type of dad whose domestic, he has many memorabilias and scrapbooks of his kid's milestones, even kept the teeth that fell out. Always finding ways to spend time with the kids, whether it'd be through something as simple but meaningful as teaching them Spanish or taking them out to eat. His kids love and adore him, finding that the best time they spend with him is when he lets them talk about their day, listening in and validating their thoughts.

❥ Dad!König who is the type of dad who finds himself absolutely terrified that he's responsible for such a tiny thing. He's extremely protective of them, seeing his little kid whimper and point at something that caused them pain (even if it was by their own accord), König finds himself comforting the little one by soothing their crying and kicking whatever inanimate object it was just to make them feel better. He already hurt himself once or twice doing that and it did make his kid laugh, anything that makes them happy right?

❥ Dad!Kim Hong-Jin who is the type of dad whose a bit irresponsible at times, he tends to roughhouse with his kid a lot. There's definitely a lot of physical and playful activities with him in the means of spending time. He doesn't mean anything by it, just quality time, his kid is one of the reasons behind him stopping his gambling addiction. He wanted to set an example for them. The last thing he wants is for his kid to remember him by something negative so he does his best to spend time with them a lot despite him getting deployed.

Sidenote: I wrote this at 1 am and it was fun but my eyes hurt now, I have plans to go out tomorrow with a friend. Now regarding your guys' requests, ISTG I'm not ignoring you guys, I'm just not in the right headspace to write them except for a few I'm currently working on.

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flowersandbigteeth · 4 months

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Hi! So this is my first time sending in an ask so I feel anxious about it but-

I love your work and constantly check for updates because I've already read all your work. When you don't update I kinda have to scavenge to find other similar authors that do full length fics and not just like drabbles or blurbs or headcannons or whatever

Anyways do you have any other authors that you can recommend in the same monster x reader genre that write full stories and oneshots?

Oh noooo, lol! The struggle is so real (ὀ⌓ὀ⑅)

I don't know a whole bunch of creators, just off the top of my head without diving deep into my likes and reblogs. I am actually very specifically rabid about monster cod crossover fics the most @bluegiragi does monster cod crossover comics and I'm addicted

I definitely recommend checking out the (whatever monster) x reader tags and looking for creators who just do one monster type, they tend to have more finished series because they are focusing on one theme, imo.

@labgrowndemon is one who comes to mind, for example, has awesome, very emotionally rich werewolf fics

More generally I know some of the bigger accounts:

@monstermag is great! They just put out the winter edition and there are awesome stories in there! You can dl all the previous issues for free I'm pretty sure. You can find a bunch of different monster writers and artists in there, so that's probably the fastest way to find a bunch of authors quickly

@momolady has an impressive selection of fics. She's brilliant and there's kind of something for everyone, so many different monsters to choose from. She has a patreon for the discord and rough drafts, art, and stuff for a bunch of different tiers.

@monster-bait writes monster romance novels and I am subscribed on her patreon. I get quarterly art in the mail and her books are lovely <3 I have the beautiful prints she sends stuck all over my bulletin board

You can find some monster romance themed discords on disboard, as well. I'm in Monster Manor, which i highly recommend to find more monster fic stuff. It's pretty active and they have a bunch of recommendations for books and creators to check out. Probably most of the people on there are indie authors themselves and post different snippets and whatnots.

I also should note, as I was looking, many creators are on strike for the next few weeks, so please respect that

I hope that helps a little ^_^

#monster x reader #monster romance #monster boyfriend #sweet anons #sweet asks

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konigsblog · 4 months

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arghhhh how to du grow ur blog. icl i’m ded jealous of u and all it followers and all ur requests and stuff. help a girl out 😭🙏

sure, here's what i could think of !!! :3 💗

use tags like "konig x reader" or "konig x reader smut" instead of "call of duty modern warfare 2" because using the cod mw2 is really broad and vague, people will be searching for something specific, so using tags like "konig x reader" or "ghost smut" will boost your account onto the dashboard (hopefully!)

i post quite often, and multiple times a day. honestly, i think uploading often, or having a schedule is important. of course, prioritise your needs first, don't push and force yourself on bad days because you'll lose motivation. but personally, i like to keep a schedule. (i do really enjoy writing though, i find it passes time!)

interact with your followers! reply to comments, reply to requests, help people out, and if you're comfortable, answer their messages! you don't have to do whatever you don't want to do, but i enjoy speaking with the people that support my work - i love responding to dms, i love reading their work when they want feedback and talking about their ideas. :)

this is more of a personal thing i do when writing (don't force yourself to do this if it isn't your writing style), but i usually describe the 5 senses; smell, sight, hearing, touch, taste. i think it adds detail and gives more context :3

and most importantly in my opinion, find what works for you. if you think that your long fanfics don't get as much traction, or don't get boosted, try other methods, such as drabbles or small blurbs. some people (myself included) enjoy to read smaller blurbs, that don't take a while. i like reading quick posts, small ideas that people want to share with their followers.

and TAKE YOUR TIME, it doesn't happen over night! i started in may 2023, and i'm so appreciative of the community of people, supportive and kindhearted people who always manage to brighten my day <3 🌷

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opalescentdreamscape · 25 days

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More COD 141 men in Stardew Valley AU!

Tis time for Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick. Short story/drabble/whatever this qualifies as is under the read-more, along with a poll for who should be next!

Kyle moves to town right at the beginning of spring, on a beautiful Saturday morning. Says something to Kent about it being the best time of year for it because he can rent a moving truck for the things he's keeping, and use his actual truck for all the crap he wants to take to the dump, all on a bright, sunny day. It takes more time than he expected, but a few days after buying his new property he finally gets everything sorted. Then he pulls out his to-do list:

Move shit to new house

Borrow Kent from Jodi and take moving truck back

Get rid of trash

Unpack essentials

Relax at saloon

Pretty simple. He knew there'd be more to do, but that could wait for tomorrow, so he sets out to finish the list. It's simple enough getting Kent to help, all he has to do is offer to buy him drinks later and they're good to go. Taking the trash to the dump proves to be much easier with the both of them cleaning everything out, and saves them enough time that Kent is able to sit down at dinner with his family once they get back to town.

The rest of the night passes smoothly, with Kyle having gotten most of his essentials unpacked and then spending a quiet evening drinking at the bar and asking Kent about the town. He mainly focuses on what kind of people he's neighbors with, and Kent mentions the farmer that lives north-east of Kyle's new place, just past Marnie's.

"Just the one farmer? I thought there'd be two or three with all that land by the forest."

"Just the one. Their grandpa passed away a while back and they inherited the land, according to Jodi. I'm sure they'll be by your cabin tomorrow morning with some welcoming gift, you'll get your chance to say hi then."

The next day, just as Ken predicted, the farmer is at Kyle's doorstep with a steaming plate of hashbrowns, eggs, and pancakes.

"Alright, alright, did Kent put you up to this? There's no way you say hi to me for the first time and already know my favorite breakfast." Kyle digs in while he questions the farmer, but they just smile and tell him that they just wanted him to feel welcome before waving a cheery goodbye.

This starts a contest of sorts between Kyle and the farmer, with both of them trying to be more helpful and friendly than the other (without overdoing it, of course.) All of it is for craps and giggles, but it gives Kyle something to do and it isn't hurting anyone, so they keep it up.

Kyle helps Evelyn with the public gardens while the farmer gifts her an iridescent-quality tulip. Kyle fixes up a big pot of pasta for dinner at Kent's house, and the farmer brings a salad full of freshly grown veggies. The farmer fishes up trash out of the lake for Linus, and Kyle is right there patching a few holes in Linus' tent and showing him some easy, nature-made ways to stay warmer during the cold months.

And as the game goes on, with the both of them becoming more beloved by the other townsfolk, they become close friends. Kyle starts helping the farmer on harvest days and by bringing fresh hay for their farm animals when they can't make it to Marnie's that day, and they start spending more and more time together. Their relationship blooms into a close friendship... until one day Kyle gifts the farmer a bouquet from Pierre's.

And the rest is history.

#fanfic #fanwork #fluff #gender neutral reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #stardew valley au #cod/stardew valley crossover #kinda canon compliant?#no use of y/n #no use of descriptors for the farmer (aka reader)#use of they/them pronouns for neutrality's sake #poll

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toots-senpai · 8 months

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cod landlords: drabble series { price.one }

Author:@toots-senpai (☆MY MASTERPLAN☆) Fandom: cod::mw2 Pairing: JOHN PRICE X READER Rating/Warnings: nothing too nsfw, drugs/smoking, daydreaming and looking at john price a beautiful apartment in your area owned by john price himself. Word Count: 4.6k A/n:lemme know if there's errors please, thank you <3. also will prob make a smutty pt 2, good enough to not be put in just one fic

When you first see him, it isn't intended. The burly man standing over his mailbox and preoccupied, not staring at you yet. Your glance at him moves to the apartment before you even bother to ogle, the chandelier in the lobby and nice warm temperature a vast difference from the winter storm blowing outside this afternoon. An apartment viewing you scheduled after your terrible day at work and having to shovel out your car this morning and after work has you a bit sweaty beneath the layers. Working out your sore muscles and walking in a little further, your warm coat rustling as you pulled it off your shoulders. The man finishes up looking at the mail from his mailbox and he does a double take looking towards the sound of your coat rustling. He's clearly warm compared to your cold flushed form, only sporting a long sleeved grey tee compared to your layers, holsters sitting on his hip and uniform jacket in his arm. There's a small second of a connected glance and his eyes lowers down your form and you can't even register where's his stare is going before the door opens on the second floor and another man has both of your glances flicking away from each other. The man profusely apologizes to you for making you wait and the barrel chested man in front of you starts up a small conversation of their to-do's.

It's a short conversation they have, seeming to be close friends and co-joined partners in owning the complex. You could ogle at the apartment around you, take notice of the two floors of apartments and count the amount of mailboxes that the complex has that's much more than your current apartment but the way the solider shifts in front of you leaves you time to concentrate on him instead. He's probably only as comfortable as he is due to the heavy storm outside, probably being able to come home from work early but he's clearly tired, shifting on sore muscles that flex and convulse in discomfort as he crosses his arms over his broad chest and talks about some sort of maintenance needing to be done in some apartments. He doesn't spare you a glance when he walks away but the other owner does tease you about your lingering stare, nothing but friendly and probably trying to rush the viewing but the statement does make you blush.

It honestly doesn't matter to you, he opens the doors to the upstairs and to the apartment he's showing and lets you walk around without lingering himself, waiting at the doorframe. The place would be dumb to not get, a better study room and a bigger kitchen and then to close the deal, you're exchanging lease information and wishing off small goodbyes, the same soldier opens the door at the end of the hall and is too busy shuffling to many things in his arms but, looking up to his keyframe and seeing you in his peripheral has him looking at you and letting out a small chuckle before opening the door to his apartment, just across the hall. Definitely a gift hidden in the deal.

You did mind wander and imagine scenarios of what if's and whatever but once you've been moving your stuff in, two weeks of heavy snow, tables and dressers, you honestly don't think there's a chance that you'd see him again. Lack of judgement of course but the warmth of the thought of the bulky man carrying up your boxes and helping you move in was something that could make your nerves set a fire and give up the tough woman act. Yet everything's done now, crushed dreams of having the fine older man carry your things without struggle blowing out of your mind with the flurry of snow hitting your face. The weather has only gotten worse, no matter how much salt being placed down the icy path has still built up making the ground in general overly slippery. Your scarf is pulled up past your lips yet your breath still condensates the air in warm clouds of air past your face. These last three boxes full of your kitchen supplies being able to be carried with ease if the ice wasn't your arch nemesis that already bruised the hell out of your entire thigh while you were just trying to take your blankets in on the extremely clear and cold day yesterday. You're fighting with yourself at your open trunk if you are willing to fight the ice today with a slower stride, after all it was reasonable why you slipped. Maybe it's not the best idea but it's too light to not do it, careful strides against the pathway of the sidewalk to the backdoor, trying to look down at the ground as your feet slightly slip on the ice as you walk.

You truly aren't even slipping when you fully slip, stumbling a bit with the boxes when another gush of wind pushes the lighter top boxes from your stack and their slipping a little bit off the stack faster than you can get a solid grip on the ground. You don't even fully fall with his chest to brace as he quickly comes behind you. He's come up behind you before you even slip, holding the grasp of the box you lost and letting your hand brace on his chest for a second before looking down at you while you stare up at the six foot man with shock. The exchanged stare is interrupted by another flurried gust of wind that makes you close your eyes and his grip to become a little more firm on the boxes, other hand pulling you closer by your waist to block you from the flurries of snow and when you open your eyes, flurries on your eyelashes and his dripping a little, he's got the prettiest smile a man could have. Pearly straight teeth and another one of his deep gruff chuckles slipping from his throat. You're a little embarrassed and have a wild blush rising to your face on top of your already cold flushed cheeks. Your dreams have come true but not fully, he takes only one of your boxes but he does open the outside door for you and even walks up the stairs to open the door that connects to the second floor for you. You mumble out a thank you the first time and stumble up the stairs as he holds the door open for you, laughing a little as you stumble and chuckling when you huffed out another annoyed thank you from his teasing laugh. It's silent though as he walks behind you, standing by your door with the box in his hands as you walk down the hallway and then struggle a bit to open your door. He's even silent as he waits at your door with a questioned look because you didn't invite him inside for him to put down the box, you just wanting to put the boxes on the floor. You honestly thought he was just going to follow you but it does make sense why he standing there, box in his hands with a small chuckle of nervousness and unfamiliarity with your presence to even try to walk in your house.

You laugh just as nervously and give him another thank you and he hands the box over and he just nods his head as a formal goodbye and goes to open his door while you shut yours. Your headspace is just a little bubbly and the box in your hands almost slip from your grip, so lost in thought while staring at your closed door. Your dreams are slowly coming true like a sitcom with you as the main character. Just when you think the dreamy sitcom is over, stirring over a pot of stroganoff you've been been itching to cook since you moved in later in the night. You have to let it sit for awhile and you just can't stand to sit in the kitchen this whole time. Your apartment is much larger now and honestly, it's a bit too big for your taste, kitchen empty and the bubbling stroganoff in the pot bouncing off the walls. Long hallway that you have to walk down to get to the bedrooms of the apartment. You have to walk past the boxes piled up against the walls from not being able to move in all the way and get the pleasure to walk past your coffee and snack mess from the sudden amount of zoom meetings you've had to attend from work. The sight makes you stop in your tracks, disappointment settling in your frayed nerves. It's makes you stressed once again, your weed pen just calling for your euphoric release from the desk. You snatch it up from the desk and you don't want to put your whole setup to help mask the odor right now, stepping over the blankets and instead just going in the bathroom, closing the door and blowing the smoke into the sink.

A blinker or two later a knock on your door has you stunned, coughing and almost dropping your pen. Running hot water and washing your hands with your fragranced hand soap and closing the bathroom door before throwing the pen on the carpeted floor of your study and closing that door too. You make your way to the living room trudging over to the door curious to who's knocking and opening the door before looking through the peephole, not to bad of an action when face to face with the solider standing in front of you with a little flush to his cheeks, a little snow on his shoulders as he stands in fron of the doorframe. It's silent for a moment, you absentmindedly brush off the snow from his shoulders with a smile of hospitality and you can tell he doesn't think he'd get this far. Coming in from the cold winter night after restocking his favorite scotch from the liquor store down the street, alcohol in his other hand, slightly dranken out of. He gulps and extends his hand, layers of clothes rustling as he moves.

"John, John Price." He says, the alcohol on his breath pungent with a bit of a cigar lingering in his breath. His grumbly voice makes your legs shake and it makes you feel a bit exposed under his stare, skimpy bedwear hanging off your shoulders and high on your thighs. You smile at his friendliness and push away the unholy thoughts, giving him a lazy shake back, his grip firmer against your smaller hands. You hum your name to him and he smiles back, mutters something about your food smelling up the hallway and offers to pay you for some jokingly. It would be a crime to not let the solider in for some of the food, a little disrespectful even more that you were making so much anyways and wouldn't offer him some. You let him in of course, closing the door behind him and letting him take a good look at his property, newly furnished with your personal furniture. He asks where to put his jacket and you tell him to put it where he likes. He sits down and his sprawls his body out on the chair a little after placing his double layered jacket on the chair of the dining room next to him.

You plate him and he almost moans when he smells it up close before placing the scotch down and asking if you'd wanna drink some with him. This is becoming a problem to quickly, letting basically this stranger in for dinner and drinking with him despite knowing his real intentions. It's not like he truly has any, joking about you almost falling that morning and telling you a couple of military stories and his rank when you ask about his job. The brown liquor is swirling in your system and soon the food is gone and the conversation has slowed, you two enjoying each others company for a moment as you watch him gulp down another cup of scotch. You have to stop staring, even if you're tipsy you can recognize that, standing up and moving the plates off the table and putting them in the sink. He excuses himself, thanks you for dinner and inviting him over to eat at the door and walks out, coat tucked in his arm.

The next time you see him is when you pay your rent for the month, handing his partner the check from the door and seeing price sprawled out on his couch in his partners apartment, filling out some paperwork, hunched over and stressed out as he wipes his face in distress. You almost have to physically pull yourself away from staring at him, mentally moving your body and giving a curt nod to his partner after handing over the envelope. The burly man has you internally kicking your feet and mentally dropping to your knees with shaky legs as you hear the door close behind you as you walk down the hallway. Then, you don't see him for awhile. The winter storm passing and the temperature warming, your house fully unpacked and everything clean. Your window of your study is slightly open as you take a rip of the dab you've collected, stick decorated with a favorite cartoon on the handle. Your sitcom feels over and suddenly cancelled from the lack of audience, days go by of you hoping to see him next to his mailbox or even in the parking lot hopefully today after you do groceries later today. You only have a couple of minutes for lunch and honestly you've been snacking the whole meeting anyway. Smoke bubbling into your mouth and flying out of the window, you look out on a nearby gas station and the trees are slightly growing now as spring nears. Busy traffic filled streets pulling into the gas station and speeding across the streets. Regardless of the ache in your shoulder from sitting in your office chair you still bend down for another hit, too lazy to pull the glass into your hands.

Another knock on your front apartment door makes you cough terribly, disrupting your hit. You quickly blow out the smoke from your mouth out the window and don't bother to move out of your study. You don't truly have to answer the door, even if there's another knock, that comes a couple minutes after the first one you have to get into your meeting session anyway. The next time you see him, is a week later he's coming out of his apartment same time as you, you're freshly baked from your morning sesh and honestly this isn't where you'd want to see him after all this time. Nothing against him but you were kinda in your own zone today, no work meant for some good personal time and right now you just wanted to head out for the afternoon with some friends. Keys and accessories jangling causing him to look at you.

"Knocked the other morning. Couldn't have answered?" He states dull and questioning. Interrogating in his own tone. You don't have any fear about the solider following you down the hallway ratting or even pushing you out. There aren't any rules about smoking in the complex but yet you still feel like you're being ratted on in a way, self consciously paranoid about why he was knocking.

"Sorry John, I had a meeting to attend. Online of course." You add walking out of the door that leads downstairs and leaving it open for him. He walks out and walks down a couple of the stairs, slightly waiting for you to walk down with him. "Is there a problem sir?" You ask softly as you walk beside him. These random silences make for an interesting tension to build between the two of you, you can see him scratching his beard out of discomfort as he walks down the stairs, clearly something he's not bothering to say out of your peripheral. He doesn't say anything as the two of you walk. You separate ways when he walks to his mailbox with a grumbled huff and you go out to the parking lot.

It doesn't take long to come back from your afternoon out. The evening is nice after having such a shitty winter and the soft breeze is cool against your skin, the air chilled and humid, icicles falling off of trees. The atmosphere is perfect, your usual smoke spot on your trunk tempting you to roll a joint on your lap as you come out of your drivers seat. Closing the door behind you and making your way around your car to sit on your trunk, enjoying the peaceful spring sounds of birds and running water. You've had something tucked away that you wanted to smoke with your friends but everyone had separated to early. Now you're halfway through your joint when John stuns you once more for the day, he's taking it out of your hand, soft enough to not ash on you or let a cherry fall but surprising you enough for a blush to rise on your face and to almost smack him out of reflex if it wasn't for his other hand grabbing your wrist.

"You know this stuff is illegal right?" He asks voice grumbly, leaving you stunned at the man above you. Even sitting on your trunk he's so tall, broad frame shadowing the small amount of sun comign from the evening sunset. Your knees are spread as you had your feet up on the bumper but you close your legs to distance yourself from him, knees right by the front of his hips.

"What ya going to do solider boy.. nark?" You ask, a little shaky in the tone from being so stunned but you take the joint back from his fingers before he lets it die out, his doesn't barter but just watches you in disbelief. You're dragging another hit and blowing it where the winds going before looking back at him. He's got his arm crossed now, he's taken a little offense to your snarky statement. "Would you rather have it reek the hallways?"

"I can smell it from when I pulled in the parking lot." He mutters and you look over to the other entrance of the parking lot, a woman smoking a cigarette leaning on the brick wall.

"Can't smell the cigarette?" You state pointing to the woman leaning on the brick wall of the complex and he just scoffs and shakes his head.

"You reek more." He simply responds, checking you back with the same 'cocky' attitude you have. It makes you giggle and then there's another one of those comfortable silences. You're licking your lips and taking in this captain standing over you as you sit on the trunk, blocking your sun with his strong arms crossed over each other. You lean back a little so the sun hits your face better and you hand back out the joint to pass to him. He stares at you with the same disbelief but he backs down after another silent moment, motioning you to scoot over on your trunk and sitting next you, bumping the car down a little with his weight. He only takes a singular hit before passing it to you, you don't need to explain how to him how to correctly smokes it. A deep inhale and he leans back next to you, blowing the smoke behind you. There's another comfortable silence as you take another drag, his eyes locked on yours for a moment before he stands up, muttering a small thank you before walking off towards the backdoor. His hands pushed in his pockets as he walks away. It makes you wonder if he did that just to see you reaction.

The next time you see Price is after you get his number from the other owner another week later. Something wrong with your in unit laundry and his partner says that he's the guy to talk to about it, not being so good on mechanics himself. His partner texts you something about Price being busy all day and telling you to text him later, you look at the message with his number for far too long. Eating and watching tv with the phone screen on and even plugging in your phone by the living room sofa where you're watching tv to keep the phone screen open. There's a knock at your door before you even manage to send a text. The weed pen on your table slipping into your pocket with your other hand you're not using to get up to stand. Through the peep hole is John, leaning on your doorframe, clearly tired with some oil on his cheek. Broad body in a tight tee and muscles flexing as he leans against the door and knocks again, tired.

You jiggle the door knob and play with the lock for him to have enough time to get off the door so you can open it. He takes in your form, the last piece of clean laundry on your skin being just black leggings and a loose crop top. You can see a small dust of a flush on his cheeks but he's speaking before either of you can acknowledge it.

"Heard something's wrong with your washer.." He mumbles and you nod and let him in. He follows you down the hallway and thankfully your study is already closed but you do have to take your clothes out of the washer for him. He leans against the wall where he can see you in the doorway and he tries not to watch you take out your clothes and pretty undergarments but he really wanted to just look at you. Enjoying your company as you're kneeling on the floor and putting your clothes into the hamper, hair falling off your shoulders as you crouch and bend over to take your wash out. He smirks slightly when you look at him from where you sit with your knees on the floor but you stand up before he's able to see the flush on your cheeks from his small action and walk away, letting him do his job. You sit on the couch as you wait for him, looking at that text from the other owner one last time and finally shutting it off before he sees it open on your phone.

You watch a couple of episodes of your show before you get curious as to why it's taking so long, why he hasn't moved from the bathroom. As you round the hallway, he's using your small garbage can in the bathroom to clean up some gunk from the bottom of your washer. Your dryer in the hallway and his body laying completely on the floor, lower half peeking out from behind the dryer as he fiddles with the washer. You slowly walk over, small steps to sneak up on the solider. You can see his happy trail and his pants low on his hips and shirt raked up a little bit to see a bit of his toned hips. You let out a small shaky breath and he perks up at the sound, looking straight at you while sitting up.

"Sorry, I was wondering what you were doing.. did I scare you?" You ask with a small laugh and he just smiles and scoffs and lays back down, not even bothering to fix his shirt or his pants, too focused on whatever he's doing. You honestly don't know what's coming over you as you walk past him, looking down at his exposed skin and making a small show for him of walking over that makes him let out a small chuckle that he doesn't intend for you to catch when you walk in your room. You do though as your going in, bedroom door closing leaving his laugh a little muffled. His laugh makes you a little giddy about the burly captain in your house, heart beating fast with a little nervousness. You flop on your bed and crawl over a bit to your bedside drawer, small snacks and candy in there and a couple of books on the shelf above the drawer. You slip a small candy into your mouth and bring out another one for the man on the floor and a small pillow for his head but when you finally come back out of your room you bump into his back in the hallway and he has to spin around to look at you. He's on the move to put the dryer back up after moving around the washer but because you bumped into him he's turning around to look at you.

Broad chest towering over you as you roll the candy in your mouth nervously. He's got a better view of you, looking at your pen hanging a bit loose from your pocket and down the valley of your smooth chest before locking eyes with you. He's so close, you want to wipe off the grunge from his face and pull him down to you, wanting to be truly face to face almost like sitting on the trunk of your car. You roll the candy again, tongue lolling around the candy, that he lets the connected stare break to look down at your lips to flick back to your eyes faster. "Sorry." You mutter out after the long silence and the connected stare that doesn't falter anymore as he softly chews at his tongue in his mouth. You're holding the pillow in your arm and the wrapper of the hard candy in your fingers catches his attention to break the stare.

"Alright." He mutters, voice gruff and blunt. HIs eyes flick from yours down your body, seeing the tiny wrapper tucked between your fingers. "Is that an apology?" He asks while his rough hands are taking the candy from your fingers, plastic crinkling as he puts it in his palm. He only looks at it a second before slipping it in his back pocket and looking back down at you before moving out of the way from the middle of the hallway. "I accept it, thank you." He coos teasingly make you smile as you walk past, small pillow in your arms as you walk down the hallway and let him go back to work on the washer. It's halfway through another episode when you hear your washer on and you look over your couch to hear better, he wouldn't have just started it without clothes, right? Your basket is empty as he holds it walking out of your bathroom and humming in approval.

"Did you just throw back in my wash?" You ask accusingly from your spot and he snaps his neck to look at you, like he's been caught but he shrugs it off as he places the basket by the bathroom and walks down the hallway.

"Sorry, wanted to see if it'll run. Not like you have tons of natural detergents with specific instructions." You scoff at his response and he laughs, as he stands in the doorway of the hallway a second. Then his broad body is leaning over the back of the couch and his arm is dropping down your front to pull at the pen on your hip falling out a little from your pocket with an accusing coo and a chuckle that makes you blush and look up at him, holding a firm grasp at your pen at your hip with a your hand on your pocket so he couldn't keep tugging at the mouthpiece to pull it out. You turn to glare at him and he has a cocky smile as he leans over your shoulder, bringing his other hand to your chin to keep your stares locked and pulling you closer, his fingers letting go of your pen and instead moving his large hands up to the under your chin to make you keep your eyes locked on his. "What are you doing tonight luv?"

#captain john price #john price #john price x reader #cod imagine #mw2 imagine

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babygirlgh0st · 10 months

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Modern Leper

Summary; Despite living with Simon Riley for several months now, the intricacies of his mind still find ways to surprise you; Tonight is nothing new for either of you. Word count; 2,245 A/N; This is the first fic I’ve actually finished and decided to post for CoD! I rarely ever post my writing, so forgive me if it isn’t the best. I just really love Ghost, and my fiance deals with night terrors and I saw an outlet and decided to run it into the ground with this. The relationship dynamic for them is something I cherish and is loosely inspired by this song. I could write a three hour power-point on all the trauma this man struggles with, but for now y’all gotta deal with my drabbling instead lmao. No beta we die like men.

I’m also open to taking requests, if you have anything to offer me :> Warnings; Vague mentions of past trauma/gore/death, night terrors, ambiguous and complex situationships, minor physical harm (unintentional), hurt/comfort.

It had taken you months to finally convince Simon to move in with you, just like it had taken nearly a year for him to admit to your not-quite relationship. It was based on understanding more than love or romance; The common knowledge that you shared the same weight as the other, that your weird quirks were complimentary despite their usually volatile state.

You both understood each other's needs, traumas, the baggage you both carried within yourselves that you’d yet to find the space to put down. He needed space and quiet, a silent companion who never seemed to judge him for whatever ailed him at any moment, and you had a supernatural ability to read him like a book and offer what you could when he needed it without a word being exchanged. It was an invaluable bond you two shared, not quite love, but not quite friendship. You just knew each other like you were one and the same, and found safety in that fact. He had grown to trust you, and you found solace with him, and you were relieved when he relented to moving into your sad one bedroom apartment. Filling some empty void that always seemed to follow you in life.

You had been having such a nice dream, something warm and soft and honey sweet for once, when the yelling started. It dredged you from the depths of sleep, like ripping off a band-aid or throwing ice water down your shirt, and you blearily shot up in bed in surprise as you blinked into the dark of your shared bedroom, seeking its source.

Simon had warned you about his night terrors, but you hadn’t fully comprehended just how bad they could get sometimes. Yelling, screaming, pained moans and thrashing like he was an animal caged, feral and in desperate need to escape himself. He’d told you that there wasn’t much to do about them, and apologized when he said to just let him be until they were over. He’d even insisted on sleeping on the couch for several months upon moving in under the concern that he’d hurt you or cost you sleep, or god forbid traumatize you even further than your shared line of work already had.

It took you a few moments to process that it was happening again, blinking the sleep out of your eyes as you watched Simon jerk in his sleep across the bed, sheets twisted around his limbs in a way that you found both angelic and heartbreaking in the moonlight from the window. You were sure there wasn’t a single way he could appear to you that you wouldn’t find beautiful, though you knew better than to voice those thoughts out loud.

He remembered everything if he was woken up in the middle of a night terror, though waking him up while in one of his fits was a feat of its own. You had relented to leave him be and fight his demons in his dreams undisturbed, until the neighbors started to complain about the noise. It killed you to see the haunted, distant look he would always get the following morning if he didn’t sleep through it, but he understood that it couldn’t continue, not in your subpar apartment. After a few too many noise complaints, things had to change.

“Simon?” You called softly, voice heavy with sleep as you shifted to face him, watching him for a few moments. You knew that pinched expression, visible even through his balaclava that his face was an image of agony. You’d never learned what he had been through- never anticipated you’d get to know- but it still made you question the poor man’s past as you watched him squirm and groan in pain in your sheets.

“Simon,” you call his name more loudly this time, shifting closer to him on the bed as you did.

You had never let go of the hope that maybe one day, you’d be able to soothe away his nightmares with just your voice. That your presence alone could banish the horrors that he hid inside of himself, the things he fought back during the day that he couldn’t run from at night. You prayed for a day when you could simply whisper sweet nothings to him, and ease his pain without having to wake him.

It had yet to work despite your insistent efforts, and after a couple more minutes of soft crooning and attempts to console him with no changes in his behavior, you relented to the one trick you and Ghost had found to wake him up; Sternum rubs.

“I’m so sorry,” you said as you always did, before shifting to get out of bed and walk around to his side of the mattress. He’d attempted to grab or punch you the few times you’d had to resort to this specific method in the past, and you couldn’t blame him for it; it was an agonizing sensation to experience, and he had always been adverse to physical contact regardless of whether or not he had just suffered a night terror. You couldn’t fault him for lashing out when you woke him from painful dreams in an equally as painful way, even if it cost you a few bruises. At least if you were standing, you had a better chance of moving out of reach when he did come to. With a sharp breath in, you lowered your knuckles down onto the solid muscle and bone of his sternum and pressed, dragging your fist across his chest.

It didn’t take long for him to let out a shuddering gasp, a choked yell of “Get the fuck off me!” following after. It left you flinching, startled by the outburst despite this situation not being a new one. His eyes flew open in shock as his hand locked tight, too tight around your wrist in a grip that brought a squeal to your lips. You knew by now it would leave bruises, the skin tight and twisted under his calloused palm as he ripped your hand off of him.

“G-ghost! It’s me, it’s me,” you chanted, fear evident in your words as you tried to not struggle against his grip. You had never been able to get used to the violence in his awakenings, the way he would shudder and heave like he’d been shot. His eyes were frantic, manic as he stared at the room around him, at himself, at you as if he had never seen you before in his life, your words foreign in his ears.

“Simon… It’s okay. You’re okay, you’re at ho-”

“Shut up.”

He panted heavily, releasing your wrist from his ironclad grip as he shifted to sit up in the bed. His eyes were squeezed tight, hands reaching to cover his face as he tried to reorient himself to the waking world. His body shuddered and rattled as if still stuck inside of his dream, somewhere else, experiencing who knows what. You stood silently beside the bed as you watched him, letting him calm down in his own time.

It felt like a century before he spoke, but his words were much softer despite the way his hands trembled against himself.

“...I’m sorry, love,” he mumbled, fingers rubbing at his eyes as he forced everything in his mind down into the trenches of himself. Hiding away from your concerned eyes as you watched him like a hawk. His scars throbbed, his skin still clinging to the feeling of blood and dirt and rot as if he had never showered since everything had happened to him.

“It’s okay, Si,” you said quietly, finally letting yourself move, breathe, as you made your way back to your side of the bed and settled back into the sheets there.

“You… Can I get you anything?” You offered, always trying to be helpful after an episode. Always supportive and gentle and quiet in his presence as he struggled to hold everything down like bile in the back of his throat, threatening to spill out. A mug of tea, an ear, a shoulder, a warm bath, it was always the same with you despite him always pushing you away every time. He usually settled for silence and nothing more, and this time didn’t seem any different.

Simon finally pulled his hands from his face, blue eyes exhausted as he stared down at your red wrist with a look of heartbreaking guilt. You knew he was staring; he always did when he’d hurt you after this happened, guilty and pained as he struggled to chew and swallow the reality of once again doing the one thing he always told himself he wouldn’t.

“I’ll get you some ice,” he offered, no room for argument in his words as he shifted out of bed with a groan and disappeared from the bedroom. Your hand cradled your inflamed wrist, and as you looked down at it you could already see the angry, finger-shaped signs of a bruise forming under your skin.

He’d always shown his care through action, insisting he was bad with words and worse with touch, so he settled on the little things to try and bring his affections across to you. Grabbing things that were too high for you to reach, doing the extra steps to make whatever task you had at hand that much easier, bringing you small souvenirs when he went on an assignment that you couldn’t follow him on.

He returns with a deep rooted sadness in his eyes, silently asking for your injured hand as he goes to wrap a bag of frozen peas around it like you were made of glass; something so fragile, so delicate. It felt wrong to feel you in his hands, no matter how careful he swore to be with you, the feeling of staining or breaking you never leaving the back of his mind as he iced the wound he’d caused.

“Really, it’s okay,” you reassured him a second time, offering him a gentle smile as you let him ice your wrist for you. It felt like he was licking a wound like a dog, trying to erase the accidental damage he caused like he always tried with himself. He only offers you a curt nod at your words, and once he’s decided your wrist is sufficiently encased in the frozen peas does he let you go and return to his spot in the bed.

“It was the coffin, this time,” he says in a low voice, rough from yelling and the cigarettes he tended to chain-smoke every second he was off base and out of your shared home.

You turn to stare at him in surprise, not expecting him to be open about what happened as your mind reeled from just that one sentence. He stares down at his hands in his lap as he speaks, but you can tell his eyes are looking at something beyond your gaze.

“It… Isn’t the worst one, but it’s still not great.” Simon laughs bitterly, shaking his head to try and rid his mind of the memories. Some part of him still felt like he was stuck down there trying to claw himself out, nothing but the rotten bones of someone else to help him along.

You aren’t sure what to say in response. A part of you wants to pry, to take the mile he’s offered with the inch given and see what horrible things seem to follow him like a shadow, but you can’t bring yourself to respond. Instead, you open your arms to him, head cocked to the side in question.

A hug. Simple, easy, comforting- For you at least. He looks up at you quietly for a few moments, the air easy and calmer in the space between you both as he considers your offer. His eyes are raw and wet when he finally relents, folding himself easily into your arms.

You make a point of ignoring the way his shoulders silently shake as he presses himself against you, his own arms going to loop around your waist with that same fragile care he’s always given to just you. An olive branch in the distance he always held between you, for his safety or your own you weren’t sure. You accept it all the same though, hands light and gentle as they go to rest against the back of his head, his shoulders, his spine; petting him like a wounded dog, some poor pet dying on the side of the road.

“You’re safe now, love,” You whisper in hesitance, body wound tight like a live wire as you wait to do something you shouldn't, cross some unspoken boundary you weren’t able to pick up on in this uncharted territory; But the moment never comes. His shoulders still shake, his face finding refuge in the pulse point between shoulder and throat, and you both act like your skin isn’t damp as you let him hide inside of you.

You don’t think you’ll ever find the right word for what you two have. It felt like something too delicate, too raw and wounded to be love, but it felt like it went deeper than just simple understanding. Beyond the realms of your minds or bodies, beyond the atrocities the two of you had both committed and been subjected to.

All that really matters to you though is that he trusts you, and you trust him, and you decide that that is all that matters.

#simon ghost riley #ghost cod #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x soap #ghost/reader #simon riley/reader #call of duty #simon riley cod #ghost call of duty #my writing

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jellyishi3s · 6 months

Text

Hi! You can call me jelly or whatever is fine! This is my first time like actually doing this, I usually just like or repost stuff so this is newwww but I really wanted to try it.

So I’ll mainly do headcanons, drabbles, maybe, MAYBE some fics but I’m unsure. This is an 18+ account so minors pleas don’t interact. This is also a multi fandom account mainly anime and COD but we’ll see. Also smut… I’ve never written before sooo we’ll see how well that will go. I will write for hard kinks. But I will not write scat, watersports, race play, age play, CNC is an iffy one for me so I’m just going to say no. Pseudo incest, feet, and fetishes that involve race of any kind.

Oh heads up I will write sacreligious things if you’re not comfortable with that I suggest not following me.

Fndom’s i’ll write for:

Anime:

JJK

AOT

BSD

CSM

BNHA

And possibly more but I’m unsure. I will not write NSFW for any minor characters.

Call Of Duty has a lot of characters but I will write for majority of all of them so, this might be like a more of COD leaning blog. I will not write NSFW for Farah just because she is Muslim and I don’t want to be disrespectful of the religion in anyway. SFW is a yes though! I’ll even write for graves as much as it pains me… lmao I really do not like him.

Please request or send me your headcanons! I sometimes I get writers block so I feel like ideas and requests would help, and it would also tell me what you guys are looking for or want (I currently have zero followers lmao.) I will write for predominately GN and AFAB readers but if you’re AMAB let me know! And I’ll write you too, I am afab so my knowledge on mlm and men’s perspective on pleasure may not be like the best but I will defiantly try. Also if you want to request like a certain body type, aesthetic, career, personality, etc I’m completely A okay with that but race and ethnicity I’m going to be cautious about just because I don’t want to offend anyone by accident. I’m Latina so I’m not going to have the same perspective or internal knowledge of someone who is Asian, black, indigenous, white, middle eastern etc… and because of that I just would prefer not to, if you want to request something surrounding race or ethnicity, please be detailed about what you want written, I will do my best and I will even run it by you or someone I know just make sure everything is accurate.

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napollya-inspiration · 5 months

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15 for the spotify wrapped drabble game!

#15 on my 2023 Wrapped: Kill You To Try by Daisy Jones and The Six

(send me a number between 1-100 and I'll write a drabble about the corresponding song on my 2023 Spotify Wrapped)

25 46 69

“Would it kill you to try and be honest for once in your life?” Illya asks, hands trembling. The silence is deafening. How many secrets of Napoleon’s had he uncovered over the years? And they just kept piling up. At this point, Illya wonders if he’ll ever really know Napoleon. He shouldn’t want to. But it’s way too late for that now.

“Neither of us got this far by being honest, Peril,” Napoleon says with a shrug.

“Right.” He’s not sure how they got here. Just moments ago, Napoleon was stretching on the couch like a lazy cat in the afternoon sun. He’d been debating where to spend their first leave (‘What do you think, Peril? Cape Cod? Santa Fe? Oh what about a little houseboat in the Marina del Rey?’)

Then, as things tend to do, everything went to shit. Illya feels trapped in his own skin. He was so damn foolish to trust him, a liar and a thief. He’s been setting himself up for this disappointment.

“I never told them anything about you,” Napoleon says carefully.

Illya wants to grab and shake him. How is he supposed to believe a word he says? “And you think I believe that?” He barks and it’s better than pushing the American up against the wall, better than letting the anger out. Because the anger would show that he cares. And he doesn’t. It doesn’t matter.

Napoleon has the audacity to look hurt. “Yes. You should know better than thinking I would give you up.”

“I don’t know what to believe! I thought your loyalty was to UNCLE! Now you are reporting to French spy agency. Don’t know what to believe anymore!” Illya feels like crying. He’s not sure where the urge comes from.

“I’m sorry,” Napoleon says carefully. “I promise I would never do that to you.”

“Too many broken promises, Cowboy,” Illya says, voice rough from withheld tears. He steps back, turns to go.

“Stop!” Napoleon sounds frantic. “Don’t go. Please. I’ll do it. Whatever it takes. Tell me what I must do so you trust me again.”

Illya frowns, suspicious of the desperation, the emotion. “Too important pawn for you to lose?” He sneers.

“I don’t play chess, Illya. You should know that.”

“You play many games.”

“Not with you,” Napoleon says, holding his gaze. Illya should know better. Especially now. Especially after this revelation.

“If I tell you, promise me you’ll mean it?” Illya asks against every training, every experience he’s ever had. People leave. People betray him. Why would he gift forgiveness to Napoleon of all people?

“What is it? What is it I must do?” Napoleon asks, stepping closer and offering his hands, palms up.

“Tell me a truth. A truth no one else knows,” Illya says quietly. Why does he want so desperately to turn a liar into someone he’s not? Why would he blind himself to see Napoleon be honest about something for the first time in his life?

Napoleon steps closer and lifts Illya’s hand to his throat. His pulse is strong underneath his skin, a steady thrum. Illya understands at once what Napoleon is doing. It’s not a perfect method to detect a lie but a stumble in his heartbeat is harder to hide like this. Napoleon swallows and then speaks the truth. “I would die for you in a heartbeat.”

#pls send me more!!!#Napollya #my writing #nici writes #Spotify tag game

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margarets-flowers · 6 months

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Intro Post

So hi, I'm Margaret (You can call me Mimi) i know I like haven't posted at all but I'm gonna start so heres my intro

im 19

I'm from NYC but my family is from Ireland (I'm first gen)

i'm autistic, hard of hearing, and an amputee (and I don't mind talking about any of those things so don't worry)

i'm getting a degree in engineering and I hope to make deep water cameras and ROVs so ask me about marine science and engineering please :p

I LOVE Snoopy and the peanuts

My fandoms include COD, F1, DC, Nascar, Lorien Legacies (please google it), and whatever movie I just watched

I probably won't write too many fics so most of this will just be drabbles. I hope you like it <3

#autism #lorien legacies #call of duty #dc universe #intro post #drabbles

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bitchin-beskar · 1 year

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I just wanted to know that I found your blog through the car!paz au (which is amazing by the way, I have read both more times than I can remember), but I’ve been reading your soap content as well and I’ve gone down the cod rabbit hole. Your writing converted me! I can’t wait to read whatever you write next (even if I’m not in the fandom for it yet 😊)!

hi anon!!!! I'm so glad you like the car!paz au!!! I just posted a new drabble in that au, and it's been updated on my masterlist! I'm also hoping to finally post the first chapter of the main storyline soon, so keep an eye out!!

i am very glad to have converted another to the COD brainrot! (@catsnkooks are you proud of me?!?!!) soap is precious and i love him and he deserves so much love and affection and i wanna give all to him!

i will definitely be posting more, so please keep an eye out, we'll add you to the fandom or die trying lol!!

sending you lots of love, dear anon!!! ❤️

#asks #asked and answered #anon ask #cod #car!paz au #it's thot weekend again bitchesssssss

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arthurmorganshorsey · 3 months

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Ghost COD Drabble- Ghost x Gender Neutral Brat OC

The adult kid of a very rich and influential family, but also very rebellious. Ghost is their appointed bodyguard, and is getting quite tired of their shit. It's time for him to take matters into his own hands. Slightly NSFW

Ghost had been my appointed bodyguard for a while now. I still didn't understand why I needed a bodyguard. I come from a very wealthy and important family that also dealt in some shady ordeals. My family figured their oldest kid wasn't able to protect themself at the ADULT age of nineteen. Even if I was a bit out of shape, whistles and pepper spray exist, don't they? Being as reckless as I was, my father also never trusted me too much in the first place. I was always out avoiding my family with the people who I believed understood me better. Through all the partying and doing of substances to make myself numb, Ghost had started to notice my behaviors.

I was smoking cigarettes on my balcony, hiding them from him and my father. I'd hide the box under my bed and the butts into an ashtray that had a lid outside. He wasn't stupid though, he probably could have smelt it on me. I had my own quarters in our large family mansion, Ghost had a room within it.

My father had his own quarters, and so did my two younger siblings.

Eight PM, I started getting my bag ready and hair brushed for a little outting with my friends. We were going on the town and breaking a few rules. I grabbed my carton of cigarettes and placed it into my back pocket. I was wearing some jean shorts, a black tank top, and a flannel.

Ghost should be out cold by now. He sleeps like a grandpa. I'm not on a 24/7 watch, so he goes to bed as usual. That only happens when I get caught.

I'd finished up getting ready and went to walk out of my bedroom door out into the rest of the quarters.

There he was. The 6'4 masked and muscular British man my family had hired to basically babysit me. I could see the suspicious look in his blue eyes under the mask, looking me up and down. I looked up at him, trying to play innocent.

"What are you doing?" He stated blankly, staring into my eyes with that cold and stoic aura he always had.

"Um.. I was gonna go out for a little while." I stared at him back, my heart started to beat a little faster with the intensity of his stare.

"Mmm. At this hour? Your curfew is eleven." His stare got colder, his large body acting as a barrier between me and the outside of my bedroom.

Shit, shit, shit.

"I'm going." I decided, fuck it. I deserve to be able to go out. I'm an ADULT. He's not the boss of me. Nobody is. I'm a legal adult.

"Haha." He stood there looking at me blankly, there was no real laughter in his voice. "No."

"I have my own free will.. Not like there's anything you could do to stop me." My words came out firm and demanding. Surprising, as I was just a little terrified of the skull-masked millitary man currently towering over me.

He shot me a glare, then placed a finger on the bridge of his nose with annoyance and sighed.

"You know fully well there are plenty of ways I can stop you. I can't let you go. Father's orders." His voice was commanding. It made you want to do whatever he said, no questions asked.

But I wasn't going to.

"I'm going!" I snapped back, then before he could act, sprinted to the right side of him, heading towards the door at the end of the hallway. I could hear the sound of his heavy boots hitting the floor as he rushed behind me to stop me.

His huge figure startled me as he swiftly slid in front of the exit in front of me, blocking me. I nearly bumped into his chest.

"Fucking bloody hell, You can't listen can you? I said no." Ghost crossed his arms staring down at me.

"Because I'm an adult, I don't have to listen to anyone." His back was holding the door shut. I could tell under the mask he was getting ticked off with me. I'd tried this before, not to the extent of now though. I reached for the doorknob it being to his left right next to his torso.

His large, gloved hand took a firm grip on my wrist. He didn't squeeze hard enough to injure me, but hard enough to make his strength prevalent.

"Why are you acting so stupid tonight, my dear?" He spoke through his teeth, starting to get progressively more agitated. I tried to use my other hand to reach the door knob.

Ouch.

His hand now gripped my other wrist, just squeezing a bit harder this time. Ghost held my wrists up, staring at me blankly.

I tried to wriggle my wrists out to no avail, trying to fight back a little.

"You're looking so fucking stupid right now, yknow?" Ghost said as he glared down at me, making me swallow some of my pride. He was so fucking tall, especially in comparison and perspective to me. It was hard not be a little intimidated.

"I don't care.." My arms struggled against him trying to break free, my body starting to clash back and forth with his as I tried to fight him. The tall man suddenly groaned and let go of my wrists.

Unpredictably, he gripped both of my wrists together in one hand, his fingers able to securely hold them both together all around.

My back was pummeled into the wall to my right, my wrists pinned above my head, his other hand basically clamping me down by my waist.

I was trapped against the wall. Not having even the slightest clue how strong this man truly was until now. It felt as if I were being crushed by steel.

"Now. You're gonna listen to me and stop acting like a little fucking brat like you have been today." He glowered down at me. His already deep voice sounding nearly an octave lower now. I'd never seen him this pisses before.

Crunch. Crack.

Shit.

That was the breaking sound within the cardboard lining of my box of cigarettes currently in my back pocket, that was currently being crushed into the wall.

Ghost's approach to me became more suspicious and accusatory. His grip loosening slightly.

"Do tell me what that is dear, before I have to find out myself." His eyes narrowed.

"J-just candy..." I lied.

In response to that, Ghost groaned once again, then his hands took hold of my waist, he turned me around quicker than I could even process.

The man's hand roughly shoved it's way into my back pocket, nearly groping my ass and causing me to let out a little gasp as he pulled the carton out of my back pocket. I could see his gaze become more angry as he shoved the carton just inches from my face.

"The fuck is this? It's not good for you. Do you not remember how many fucking times I've told you to quit?" His accent seemed to lay on thicker as he got more and more pissed off. His gloved and massive hand went back for a moment then.

SLAP!

He'd slapped my ass where the carton was! I'd flinched and stared up at him, where he hit me leaving a stinging sensation for a minute.

"You did not just do that!" I gasped at him, finding his attack rather bold, even for him. His speaking voice was deep enough to be a growl now.

"I fucking did. That's what happens to spoiled brats. You've proven enough tonight I can't trust you." He put the carton away into a pocket, his arm wrapping around my waist, turning me around forcefully and shoving me right over his shoulder.

"THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING GHOST!!!" I thrashed around and squirmed in his grasp. He was silent, the tension in the air even higher.

My punches to his back and protests in his ear didn't do much of anything. He threw my shoes off of my feet as I continued to kick his chest as he carried me back into my bedroom. The grip of his gloved hand on my back as he carried me was firm.

Ghost tossed me back onto my bed roughly, making me shake the bed as I landed, my face pummeling into the mattress.

"How dare you.." I muttered into the mattress as he stood there next to the bed, his hands resting on the mattress as he leaned down to stare at me. The way he stared at me was comparable to the way you'd stare at an annoying bug on the table. It was as if I was so little and pathetic to him. An annoyance.

"It's my job to keep you protected. I intend to do it whether you like it or not." He spoke with no ounce of warmth. I sat up on the bed staring back at him with defiance.

His hand firmly went to the top of my head, fingers in my red hair tugging just a little bit.

"You know, you're a fucking lot to deal with. Do you know how many times I've had to kill someone who tried to kidnap you? You're a walking target. Don't go acting like you're so fucking independent and free. Without me, you'd be six feet under." He gave a lot of information for me to unpack.

"M-multiple people have tried to kidnap me?" My voice broke slightly knowing that information that he'd been withholding from me.

"Mhm. You're naïve. You're just a naïve child. A spoiled rich brat who doesn't know a thing about the real world and how violent it is." I could see him glance off for a moment, recounting his thoughts.

"I know about the real world! I could have handled myself." I retorted back at him, knowing that was kind of bullshit. He chuckled darkly, the first time I'd ever heard him laugh ever in any capacity.

Then suddenly his body was on top of mine, pinning my wrists to the bed, his knees holding and stopping me from escaping from beneath him. I couldn’t move a muscle.

"You can handle yourself eh? Well then it must be a breeze to push me off then. Go ahead. Try."

The sight of him on top of me felt so intimate. I tried to control those thoughts as they came into my mind. I tried to break my wrists free from his grasp, he had me down tight. I wriggled and used all of the strength my body had to offer. He chuckled above me and his knee fell deeper between my thighs, hurting me slightly. It was.... oddly...

Pleasurable?

I sort of liked being manhandled by him. Being put back in my place. Testing him and his patience had been fun, I got to see a display of emotion from him that I hadn't gotten before.

His knee grazed a slightly more sensitive area between my legs.

I involuntarily let out a little moan at that. I bit my lip and kept my mouth shut abruptly, my eyes widening and waiting for his reaction to that little slip-up. His eyes also widened, a little smirk forming.

"Oh my. You're actually enjoying this aren't you? Don't think I couldn't feel that just now on my knee, darling. So you're a spoiled brat and a little slut?"

He smiled and loosened his grip on my wrists, instead one hand gripping my thigh and the other on my neck, he straddled on top of me. His black gloved hand took hold of my chin, lifting up my face to view his forcefully. I couldn't escape his unwavering gaze now.

The feeling of his fingers wrapped around my throat turned me on. I wanted that control. I wanted him to control me in every way. I wanted him so bad. The hungry glint in his eye told me he wanted the same thing.

#simon ghost riley #ghost #cod #gaming #fanfiction

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l0vem41l · 6 months

Text

songs and other drabbles...

part two: kyle "gaz" garrick

「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited, very possibly ooc (my first time writing for cod), civilian reader, pet name (baby) used like... once?? gaz the typa guy to use "babe" and "baby" i dont make the rules. dk whether this is fluff or angst but oh boy is it sumn!!!! 」

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

↳ ft. kyle "gaz" garrick

author's note: the entire first draft deleted itself and i nearly chose to do the same. SLASH JAY!!!! errmmmm (*´ｰ｀)ゞ anyways!!!! i love gaz so so much. this Specific lyric bro. itz so him. i've had this in my brain for too long. I STG I WAS COOKING W/ THE OG ONE BUT I DELETD THAT DRAFT AND NOW IT'S MID o(≧口≦)o !!!!! apologies. many. trust i'll come up w/ sumn better when i am not succumbing to whatever ailment has me rn,,,, <//3 im sick

[ simulation swarm - big thief ]

"i wanna drop my arms and take your arms / and walk you to the shore"

↳ gaz had woken up about half an hour ago. unlike usual, however, he was making absolutely no effort to get up from the bed and start the day early.

"just a few minutes” is what you claimed it would be when you asked him to stay in bed a for a while. it was also completely bullshit. you both knew that much. it had been much longer than “just a few minutes” since then– yet, there were no protests from him, holding you tight as if he never intended on letting go.

even if kyle had wanted to get up (and like hell he would), he figured it was almost impossible to say no to you. after coming back from a particularly long deployment which had left you with minimal contact to him, he figured the least he could do was indulge you in your simple requests now that he was back. staying in bed where it was warm and comfortable was easy enough anyways.

you were practically laying on top of him, your head tucked into the crook of his neck, one of his arms around your waist, holding you close against him. his free hand had found its way to the small of your back, as he idly traced shapes against the fabric of your shirt–

his shirt, actually. you had taken a liking to stealing his clothing and kyle's closet began slowly merging with your own ever since. at this point, it was hard to tell who’s clothes were who’s. not like he minded.

"kyle?” you mumbled sleepily, lips moving against his skin as you speak. his heart fluttered at your voice.

“yes?”

a beat of silence.

“nothing.” you shifted your position, moving to rest your head against his shoulder, cheek pressed against it as you look up at him. “it’s stupid, really but– i missed you more than i thought i would... guess i was worried about you."

his eyes met yours, gazing down at you sweetly. he paused to think for a moment, giving you a wistful smile before pressing a little kiss to your forehead. he thinks a moment before replying.

"i missed you too, baby. so much." though his voice is adoring and gentle as ever, a soft sorrow which your tired mind can't quite discern resided in the words.

kyle had always accepted danger which his job entailed, even used to the physically and mentally demanding aspects. but ever since you arrived his life, he found himself absolutely despising the anxiety that his job caused you when he was away. you both had to come to terms with the fact that this was just the way things would be for the both of you. he hated that. he hated knowing you would be forced to reconcile with the fact there might be a day where he doesn't come back to you.

deep in his heart, he knew that if you were more selfish– if you would just ask him to quit his job to live a quiet life with you– his answer wouldn't be no.

he'd never verbalize it, but he was almost certain he'd drop it all if you asked him to. sometimes he secretly wished that you would. but you never did. you remained understanding, taking all the anxiety you felt when he was away if it meant that you could still be with him. how could he ever repay something like that?

this was the ache and blessing which he carried the minute you insisted on loving him.

he didn't dare tell you this now. the moment would've certainly be ruined if he had. besides, he figured you had been laden with enough– and he didn't want to spoil this perfect morning. instead, he took the opportunity to pepper as many kisses on your face he can before you eventually laugh and gently push him away.

and that smile of yours, brighter than the morning sun– it just reminded him that he really would do anything for you.

▸ KYLE "GAZ" GARRICK

– reblogs always appreciated!

#cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick headcanons #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz call of duty #gaz cod #gaz mw2 #gaz headcanons #gaz x reader #gaz garrick

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falloutjay · 3 years

Note

UR REQS ARE OPEN WOO!! PLS GIMME ANYTHING FOR JIMMY OR KENNY!!!!! MAYBE W LIKE A RLLY ATHLETIC/SPORTY READER IDK

KENNY MY BELOVED! AND JIMMY!

I wrote something for both since Jimmy content is rare and I liked the short drabbles I wrote. I hope you enjoy them too, dear Anon! <3

____________________

Kenny/Jimmy x Athletic!Reader

Kenny:

“Ahh Kiiiiinny come on! Kyle will bring the day only for todaaayy!” Cartman kept whining and the blond just rolled his eyes.

“Cartman, I said no. I’m picking someone up and I don’t care if you only managed to convince Kyle to bring the new Call of Duty for a day. Not my problem.” Kenny mumbled into his parka.

“Fine, whatever. You’re the one missing out, Kiiiinnnny.”

“Stop calling me that.” Cartman pretended to not hear him and turned on his heels to walk out of school. Annoyed that Cartman bothered him for so long, Kenny slammed his locker shut and walked in the opposite direction towards the track field.

His backpack hung loosely over his shoulder, and he stumbled his way over the stands until he sat down in the second row. He scanned the athletes that just now took their positions to sprint along the track. He finally spotted his object of desire and he waited patiently. It was their turn to run, and he kept his blue eyes always on them.

Once the loud noise signaled that the race started, the runners took off and Kenny watched his beloved (Y/N) swiftly lead the race. He smiled brightly, cheering quietly for his partner as they ran past the line for the finish. Feeling no shame or embarrassment, Kenny loudly cheered and got up from his seat.

“WOOO! Y/N, you did great!” The person he called out for smiled brightly and after they picked up their towel and water bottle, they swiftly jogged over to the blond. “Never knew you were this fast babe.” Kenny complimented them and quickly pressed a kiss onto Kenny’s lips.

“Well, maybe you should have come to see my practice.” “Well, I am here now. And trust me, the whole day I got bullied by the guys because I won’t come and play COD with them.” Kenny laughed. Y/N shook their head and giggled.

“Well, I hope it was worth it.” “Seeing you make your opponents eat your dust and seeing that beautiful smile of yours? One hundred percent worth it.” Y/N loved how smooth Kenny was. “Hey, Y/N, get over here and quit flirting!” One of their teammates called out.

“Welp, gotta go back.” “Yeah, I’ll be here though and wait for when we can walk to your place.” Y/N nodded, kissed the blond one more time before they jogged back to their sports team. Kenny watched after them, a dreamy expression painted on his face.

Jimmy:

You casually strolled into the gym, wanting to visit a certain someone. You had just finished your own workout for the school fitness competition, and you knew your boyfriend was training for his won competition.

Near the entrance, you were greeted by a close friend of yours. “TIMMY!” Timmy loudly exclaimed as he spotted you. You walked over and gave him a high five.

Timmy was also in his gym gear, training hard just like you. The gym that the town built specifically for the handicapped was equipped rather nicely and you were happy that the people close to you could work on themselves here. “Hey TimTim, is Jimmy here?”

“Timmy!” He proclaimed and drove off, with you trailing behind. In the distance, you could spot the brown-haired boy lifting weights and you quickly thanked Timmy, who replied with the usual and then went to continue his workout. “S-S-s-Sixty Ei-Eight.” He breathed out as he lifted the weight once more and you casually leaned over him.

“Hey there!” You sang and Jimmy immediately smiled. He paused his workout and sat on the bench. “He-Hey there bi-bi-beautiful.” He smiled warmly as you leaned down to press a kiss on his lips. He smelled like sweat, as he was working out, so it really was no surprise to you. You adjusted the gym bag on your back as you straightened yourself again.

“How’s the training for the Paralympics going?” You asked. “Its good. I’m making re-re-real progress.” He flexed his muscles and you laughed with him.

“Looking good Jim.” You said as you touched his biceps. “A-and what about you?” He asked, knowing how hard you were training too so you could steal everyone the show at the big school competition.

“Super good. That’s why I finished early today to visit you, hun.” You grinned and pointed at your gym bag. “S-Sounds great. You-You want to go out for dinner to-tonight?” Jimmy asked as he laid back down on the bench and got in position to lift the weights again.

“Sounds amazing. I’ll pick you up at your home later, okay? I really need a shower first. And I think so do you.” You both laughed and before you went on your way to leave, you leaned down to give Jimmy another kiss.

“See you tonight, my be-beloved.” He whispered against your lips. “See you tonight, Jim.” You waved towards Timmy, who happily returned the gesture and strolled out of the training area.

You spotted Nathan and Mimsy near the entrance and also waved at them, but only Mimsy returned the wave before he got scolded by Nathan.

You smiled, feeling hyped up for your first real date with your boyfriend in a long time since you were both very busy with training for your events.

But tonight, sports would not be a topic, it would only be you, Jimmy, his comedy, and some nice dinner.

#south park x reader #kenny mccormick x reader #jimmy valmer x reader

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ark-polaris · 3 years

Text

Okay so sequel to the first little Splatoon 3 drabble, since everyone had a ‘Oh no’ reaction and again, they live in my head rent free. Again, not likely to be canon, this mostly acts like some dlc/what is happening behind scenes. Might write some more since I still have other scenes, but that will not have priority.

The octoling didn’t know what stirred him awake, only that he was coughing from the sand spread over him like a blanket and something lying next to him. He quickly got up, crouching closer. Cuttlefish was still unconscious, covered in sand. Octavio softly swore.

The inkling's arm was doused in orange. Whatever was dropped didn’t work like their bombs, and had cut him. He tugs at his sleeve, cursing when he couldn’t tear it off quick enough. Don’t think about other stuff. Wrap, wrap, you can still save this now, before it was too late. The makeshift bandage was shabby and definitely needed to be redone later, not to mention some profreshional looking at it, but it was a start. Besides, the captain was starting to wake too. He quickly shuffled back, trying to cover his mouth from the sand while looking around.

“What…” Cuttlefish didn’t know how fast he should get up, crying out in pain when putting weight in the injured one.

“Careful. You cut yourself.” The octoling frowns, standing up while looking around. The other did the same, frowning.

Nothing looked the same anymore. This wasn’t the start of the desert, with inkopolis in the background. This was just a wasteland, sand freely flowing over canyons.

“Where are we?”

“How the shell am I supposed to know?!” the king bit back, before winning at his own harsh tone. He began to pace, mumbling something under his breath. The cap’n watched him with a raised brow, waiting for whatever plan he was formulating. Whatever attack he was planning.

“Okay… So, we are stuck here together.”

“Hmmm.”

“We don’t see or know anything that can get us back to the mainland.”

“Phone’s dead, so nope.”

“So, I propose… Dam I really hate this..” the octoling shuffled a bit with his foot, frowning. It really seemed to anger the other, who began to snarl.

“Oh, spit it out will you?!”

“I wanna work together for this bit, dam!” Octavio pretty much had his teeth bared, hands formed into fists, “But if you don’t wanna, Fine, I can let you starve.”

“No, no. Let’s work together! Get this show on the road, shall we?” The mood immediately changed, Cuttlefish excitedly standing up with his cane and pointed towards the sky, “adventure, here we come!”

The king simply sighs and facepalms.

“Okay, the first things we need are water and shelter. Food isn’t that important right now.” He points towards some rock formation, squinting against the sun.

“That seems like a good place to start, I think I saw some supplies near too.”

“Well, What are we waiting for?! Onwards!”

The trek towards the rock formation didn’t go quite as well as they had hoped. The cap’ns walking speed wasn’t the fastest, infuriating the octoling greatly. Then they almost got ambushed by… whatever that group was. Salmonid? Members of Chaos? Raiders? They didn’t really know, but it took some big brush swipes and one warning shot to scare them away. The rock formation turned out to be some old trains instead, but there were indeed some supplies to be found.

A piece of plastic tarp and a few sticks.

Some firewood.

A few bottles of water, old but could still be used.

A bit of canned food.

And that’s how the two oldies found themselves half under the tarp, fire softly crackling as the sun began to set. Both had gotten a bit of water to drink and divided the canned food under them.

“I’m more used to rationing my food, you should get more.”

“Wha- that’s not fair towards you!”

“Cuttlefish. Underground there’s not that much food for everyone anyways. You, on the other hand, are used to it. Better for you to start slow. Now stop complaining before I decide to just eat all to spite you.”

The cap’n huffs as he begins eating, shoving it all in his mouth. Cod, when was the last time both of them ate anything?

“So. We need more of a plan.” The inking nods at that, mouth still full.

“If I’m correct, inkopolis is south of the wasteland. It isn’t surrounded by it, and we seem to be blown into it. If we find the north and follow it, we should in theory be able to get out.”

“I have a compass we can use. Why can’t we go right now?”

“Don’t trust it.” Octavio leans back, already done as he frowns, “we already got attacked in daylight, imagine nighttime. It’s super cold, it’s dark, not pleasant. We should try to leave early in the morning.”

He couldn’t disagree with that, wiping his fingers off on his pants. And yawning. Cod, Marie taking over most of the duties had taken away his tolerance for staying up late.

“I’m tired. Do we sleep under the tarp?”

“Yes. You’re wounded. I get guard duty.” He grumbled something as he tried to get up, finally achieving it after a few tries, shuffling behind the octoling to lay down. Back turned towards the entrance.

“Goodnight, Tavi.”

“G’night, Cuttlefish.

It wasn’t long before he was out like a light, only distantly remembering the feeling of another back pressed against his.

#Splatoon #Cap’n Cuttlefish #dj octavio #Splatoon 3 #not canon #they gotta work together to get out #come on guys I wouldn’t let them die I love them too much for that #:)#:)))#hope this all calms y’all down a bit-

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pangtasias-atelier · 4 years

Note

How about a drabble of a Lion Boy Dimitri being fed by the rest of the BL boys? I feel like that would be adorable and chaotic to witness.

Group interaction is always one of my favorite things lol. Hope you enjoy!

____________

Pouting, Dimitri rubs his gut. Engorged on food, the soft doughy mass is instead rounder in shape, his gut firmer. Bright red stretch marks lining the lower perimeters of it, older pinker ones frame it as well. Huffing, Dimitri closes his eyes as he massages it. Letting out a small burp, his tail flicks behind him. The animalistic attribute not affected by his own overeating tendencies, the small width of it would be barely noticeable if not for the strangeness of it. Tail that of a lion’s, the thin furry appendage is thinner than Dimitri’s own sausage fingers. Ending in a small tuft of blonde fur, Dimitri sports small lion ears as well. Leaning into his chair, his ears flick as he lets out small sighs of contentment. His shoulder length hair framing his face, his plump cherubic cheeks only seem larger, Dimitri’s small huffs furthering the effect. His moobs press against his ill-fitting blue shirt, the edge of it only reaching a small portion past them. His doughy arms around them to reach his gut, he pushes them together, the adipose squishing together. His soft thighs wedged into his chair, they coalesce as he simply sits still, both pressed firmly together.

“Sorry for the wait!” Ashe barging into the room, Dimitri’s eyes shoot open, his ears sensitive. “Oh, sorry about that,” Ashe hunces slightly. “But I brought the fish you asked for,” Pushing the cart in, Ashe beams.

Dimitri having already forgotten about his request after his dinner and desert, he opens his mouth. A growl from his stomach making noise instead, he blushes, squirming in his chair. The salty char of the fish wafting to his nose, Dimitr’s ears flick, his attention grabbed. “I suppose I’ll have one more,”

One more the magic words to his own descent into overeating and gluttony, those had been the beginning, one more plate becoming two more plates before extra snacks were added throughout the day before even entire meals. His own greedy nature for food not entirely his own fault, Dimitri has four others to blame. Namely the other men from when they were in the Blue Lions. Dedue a given considering the two’s close bond, Dedue made sure of Dimitri’s own comfort. Fluffing a pillow, bringing him extra blankets, a belly rub, helping him unbutton straining clothing, Dedue was always there with a smile, always rubbing Dimitri’s tail or ears. Ashe was nearly the same. Dedue focusing on pampering through comfort, Ashe focused on pampering him through food. Dedue helping out and cooking for Dimitri, the volume and speed that Ashe cooked at was uncomparable. Always some new dish for Dimitri to try, Dimitri was always happy to oblige. More unexpected had been Sylvain, his enamorment with Dimitri coming out of the blue when he suddenly gave him a belly rub. Though he simply enjoyed cuddling and hugging all of Dimitri’s fat for his own enjoyment. Felix the largest shock to all, his adamant refusal to even caring had thankfully diminished as time went on, only spiking when strangers inquired about him. He merely took to bringing food to Dimitri, an aspect that Dimitri found important, always near hungry now.

Squirming in his creaking chair, Dimitri purrs as Ashe helps him sit up a bit more, Dimitri huffing from the exertion. Gut resting heavily in his lap, Dimitri places both hands on it as he opens his mouth. Ashe cutting a portion off, he goes to feed Dimitri, Dimtri closing his eyes. The tasty morsel right in front of him, Dimitri jumps up once more as another person comes in.

“I brought you your salmon, your highness,” Dedue announces himself,bringing only a plate to Ashe’s whole cart.

“He asked for trout,” Sylvain joining in, he only carries in a single plate.

“He kept whining for mackerel,” Felix barging in, he stares at the rest who in turn stare back at him. “I brought some to shut him up,”

“I was here first,” Resuming, Ashe brings the bite of cod to Dimitri’s mouth.

Blushing, Dimitri squirms in his chair as everyone’s gaze focuses on him. Tail flopping to the side, Dimitri opens his mouth. Mouth salivating, he chomps down on the fork, devouring the piece of cod with only a couple bites.

A looming presence over him, Ashe looks up. Dedue stands behind him.

“Let’s move him to his bed,” Reaching for Dimitri, Dedue smiles as Ashe follows along.

“He needs to eat first!” Not waiting for a response, Sylvain brings a piece of salmon to Dimitri’s mouth, Dimitri greedily eating that as well. Felix stands to the side, staring as Dimitri huffs, rubbing his gut.

“He should be comfortable, Sylvain,” Ashe pouts, struggling to extricate Dimitri from his chair, the armrests digging into his stomach. Dimitri’s love handles pour over the armrests. “Felix, help,”

Felix scoffs but does as he’s asked, standing by Ashe. Placing his foot on the legs of the chair, he helps pull Dimitri. Dimitri whimpering, he groans as his fat is pinched, the chair not letting go of him.Sylvain watches the entire time, devoting to remember the scene as all three struggle to pull Dimitri.

Eventually dislodging him, Dedue catches Dimitri. Face red, Dimitri’s tail hangs between his legs, barely enough space for it now. With Dedue’s assistance, he waddles to his bed. A mountain of pillows already prepared, he sighs as he rests against them, snuggling and purring.

“Open wide,” Without waiting for any down time, Ashe already has Dimitri’s next bite prepared.

“No way,” Sylvain blocks him. He pushes him out of the way with his hip. Dimitri’s face falls, the expected fish not coming. “I get to feed him first,”

“No fair, I was here first,”

“Doesn’t matter,”

“Yes it does, plus, he likes it better when I feed him,”

Dedue clears his throat. “We will take turns-”

“Who made you the leader?” Felix attacks, staring at Dedue.

“I am his highness’-”

“You’re all high and mighty now that-” Felix himself interrupted, all four turn towards Dimitri as he whines.

“So hungry…,” Rubbing his stomach, Dimitri opens his mouth, his tail swishing to the side of his own expanse.

“We will take turns, is that understood?” Dedue commands, suddenly serious with Dimitri’s complaint.

“Yes!”

“Got it,”

“Whatever,”

Everyone else assenting, they form an orderly line. Dimitri cowers under their immediate shift in attitude, all four of them serious about feeding him. His tail begins to wag, mind excited from being pampered and waited on, Dimitri easily getting used to it.

#my writing #fat!dimitri #animal!dimitri #fat emblem #animal emblem #fat!threehouses #animal!three houses

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