#didn't expect you guys to like tickling simon so much

[soap-ify]

lorrddddd have mercy the tickling simon writings 😭😭😭😭😭 so good. what about him finding out they’re ticklish by accident? then he just does it to get his way with dumb things like who has to take the trash out.

or another idea: him receiving a scalp massage and they find out he’s ticklish behind his ears?

original post. THE SCALP MASSAGE SOUNDS SO CUTE :( !!

simon himself never considered the possibility of being ticklish behind his ears. no one really ever touched him there, mostly because he was mostly wearing a balaclava around everyone.

everyone but you.

it was an exhausting day, and simon wanted nothing but to lay down with you and bathe in your warmth. you hated seeing your boyfriend so down and quiet, so you decided to give him a scalp massage!

“lay your head down on my lap, si.” you sat on the bed and patted your thighs. he let out a grunt, pretending to be all moody and reluctant even though his heart was doing mini jumps inside out of happiness. he walked over to the bed and slowly layed down, resting his head on your soft thighs.

your fingers slowly begin to move through his dirty blonde hair, parting the hair strands before beginning to gently scratch your fingernails against his scalp. a satisfied groan left his lips and he felt himself sinking deeper in your lap, eyes fluttering shut.

while rubbing soft circles on his scalp, your fingers found their way behind his ears to rub them too, though as soon as you made contact with his sensitive skin, his eyes flew open and looked up at you.

you paused for a while, gently scratching behind his ears, noticing the way a soft smile slowly adorned his lips while he tried to hold in a chuckle, your heart instantly warming up.

“you teasin’ me now, love?” he grumbled playfully, and you feigned innocence by shaking your head, continuing to scratch behind his ears just to see the little twitches in his face.

it was the first time he didn’t try to tickle you back as revenge, too absorbed in this relaxing feeling to care. but he was sure that he’ll get back to you, just not right now.

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part thirteen —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

"Twix."

Blue says your name in a single exhale of relief. You didn't expect her to be awake. She sits with her legs outstretched by a barely-there fire as you enter the cabin, the busted door groaning shut behind you. Fatigue sinks you to the floor beside her. You're about to curl your numb hands within the long sleeves of your new jacket, but the burn on your fingers makes you wince from the friction.

“You're filthy." She reaches for your hand, gently inspecting the burn. "And someone hurt you."

"Well, technically, I hurt them."

Blue shakes her head, the tone of her voice hardening the moment she drops your hand. "You shouldn't have gone."

"It was important—"

"It was stupid. You saw how those guys tried to kill us!" She huffs out a breath before snapping her gaze back to the flames. "You... you didn't tell me you were leaving. You didn't even say goodbye. I just woke up and you were gone.”

"I didn't want to wake you this morning because you needed rest,” you reason.

"That's a shitty excuse," she grumbles back, gesturing to the pink bracelet on her wrist. "I may not have a lot of friends, but I do know they're supposed to tell each other things like this."

Your eyes trail down from the burnt skin on your fingers, red and bubbly, to the cheap, plastic beads encompassing your wrist.

"You're right," you speak softly. "I should have told you."

A few minutes lapse in thick silence. In the midst of it, you swallow a few chalky pills to help with all the pain. You've been conservative in using them so far, but with your additional score of medicine, you figure you can afford some relief. There's no way you'll be able to sleep with your bitten wrist throbbing incessantly.

You're about to lean against the wall and let your eyes flutter shut when Blue speaks again, this time her voice so quiet you wonder if you're imagining it. 

"You know, I was excited to go on this trip," she whispers, still looking at the fire. "I even secretly hoped we'd run into other people, just because—" she pauses to swallow, "—because I never get to meet any. And the ones we have met, my dad always kills. Except for you."

She drags her sleeve over her face and it’s now you notice she is crying. A knot forms in your throat and, after the day you've had, you struggle to find the right words. 

"He kills them for a reason," you settle on, voice equally hushed. "A lot of people are—"

"A threat, I know." Blue repeats the words like a bitter mantra, then looks at her bandaged leg. "What does it feel like?" she asks after a moment, sliding her glossy eyes to yours. “Killing a person. Ghost told me it feels just like killing an animal or a Grey."

You inhale, then fix your stare to the dark ceiling. "No��� I don't think it feels the same. It's much worse. I still get sick from it,” you admit.

"How many have you killed?"

"I don't remember anymore, but not that many." Certainly not as many as Ghost has. "It was always in self-defense. Always because I had to."

"I wish nobody ever had to," she says.

"I know. Me, too.”

With a sigh, she carefully scoots closer to you. "I'm sorry for getting mad. I just want to go home.”

"Don't be sorry. I’m the one who is sorry." You shake your head and offer her a shoulder until both of you have your backs against the wall. Her hair tickles your cheek. A small hand slips around your waist in a tender embrace, her fingers latching onto the fabric of the jacket. The sore muscles of your core flex instinctively from the touch before you finally force yourself to relax. It’s just Blue.

"Your dad says we're going back tomorrow,” you whisper, jaw grazing the crown of her head. “Sleep. It'll be a long day again."

"A long day for you maybe," she murmurs against your shoulder. "I get to ride on his back."

"Lucky you." You drape the heavy blanket over your bodies. Together you are warmer, if only by a little. 

Deft wind whooshes through the trees, kissing your wet skin. Splotches of wriggling orange and red follow the water's current, along with a trail of brown muck as you scrub your breasts, hair, and cheeks. The sight of fish makes your stomach grumble. It's been far too long since you've had anything but squirrel and deer and berries, but this is not the time or place to ponder a way to catch one. The blue wash of early morning lightens with each second that passes. You wring out your hair, rewrap your wrist, and put your clothes back on before carefully climbing up the slope, satisfied enough with your icy bath.

"Ready," you announce, blowing a white breath into your hands and rubbing them together. Ghost crouches down so Blue can teeter onto his back. The backpack full of ammo hugs his front. He appears exceptionally bulky with all the baggage, and yet, he makes it look effortless.

Together, you head towards the infamous bridge, if one could call it that. Silvery fog makes it hard to see more than ten meters ahead of you, but Ghost seems to have the area memorized. Your hands ball up in your pockets, feeling empty and useless. With no bow, you have to rely on Ghost to get you back. It's a weird thing. Though, you suppose if there's anyone you'd want to be stuck out here with, it would be him. His presence alone offers more safety than the measly knife around your ankle.

"Ghost, we should go behind her," Blue says when you reach the beam.

He steps aside to allow you on first. "Try not to go for a swim this time."

A flush of pink bites your cheeks, though you blame it on the cold. It's hard to believe just four days ago you slipped off this thing. With his hands preoccupied, Ghost can't hold onto your shoulders like before, but he lingers close behind and repeatedly orders you to keep your eyes on the bank. 

Once you're all across, a calm quiet settles, a vast contrast to how talkative Blue was the first time around. It makes you absentmindedly pick the skin around your nails. By the time you reach the road, you've looked behind your shoulder at least ten times, half-expecting to spot a burnt face hiding among the trees. Squirrels prattle by. A starling calls above your head. But no people. You force your eyes onward and take a deep breath.

"So, uh, would you rather get mauled by a bear," you break the silence, stepping over a stray tire, "—or be struck by lightning?"

It takes a second for Blue to respond. "Oh. That's a good one. Do I have a gun while the bear attacks me?"

"No. No weapons. Just you and the bear."

"Then lightning." She pats Ghost's shoulder. "Could you take a bear?"

"On a good day, maybe," he answers.

"What about you, Twix?"

"No," you instantly scoff, kicking at a rock. "A bear would rip me apart. I would choose lightning because it'd be quick."

"Okay, I have one," Blue quips. "Would you rather be ripped in half, or fall off a tall building?"

"Ripped in half by what?" Ghost asks, tilting his head back.

"It doesn't matter." You can hear the roll of her eyes.

"It does matter. Might change my answer."

"Fall off a building," you interject. "The way down would suck, but I bet you don't feel a thing once you hit the ground."

"But you'd look like a dead bug," says Blue.

"I don't care what I look like. I'll be dead."

Ghost clears his throat. "My turn, then."

"No! You have to pick one," she exclaims. 

"Building," he drawls. A shadow of movement passes to the right of you. You naturally flinch closer to them, but it's just a doe hunkering down tall weeds that reach out of the concrete. A chuff of breath leaves your lips as you look away, only to find Ghost staring at you. For a few seconds, his eyes flicker between you and the deer before he goes back to focusing straight ahead. 

"Would you rather," he begins, "—chop off all your fingers, or take out your own eyes?"

"What do I use to take out my eyes?" Blue asks.

"Knife."

"I guess my eyes," she winces. "I mean, I'd rather get rid of two things than ten."

They both glance at you expectantly. A frigid gust of northern air takes hold of your hair, so you tuck the unruly strands behind your ears. "Uh, fingers," you decide after a moment. "I could probably live without them."

In the village, the air stinks enough for Ghost to come to a halt. Before, he was able to pass right through. This time, a group of fourteen or fifteen Greys seems to be trapped on the main street between a crumbled wall and a fallen telephone pole. He has to decide between expending ammo or time. It's not long before he nods to a small building and the three of you scale the rusted fire escape. From the safe distance of the roof, he takes out the Greys one by one with an accuracy that barely leaves a dent in the ample stockpile of cartridges. With the route cleared, he's saved at least an hour or two of precious daylight. 

The fog lifts. The ambery sun tries to peek through the clouds, but the sky is bent on staying grey. By the time you are back, your blisters have blisters. Blue has fallen asleep, cheek smushed against the back of Ghost's neck. Relief, thick and palpable, tastes sweet on your tongue. The fence, the rabbit hutch, the much-cozier cabin; none of it is home to you, but still, it calls your name in a welcoming coo. 

You have to aim Ghost's flashlight so he can unlock the gate. Blue stirs, but her eyes remain closed even when he pushes inside the cabin. It's shrouded in darkness. You prop the flashlight on the table as his boots scuffle against the floor.

He puts her to bed. As he does, you feel around for the sofa and nearly choke when your worn fingertips graze shabby fabric. Not icy water or solid wood or muddy ground, but something soft. You're about to sink into it, your bones desperate for the springy cushions, when he returns to the threshold of the hallway with an ugly, flannel sheet in his hands. 

"Here."

It's hard to be certain if you thank him or not; your brain conjures up the words, but your voice doesn't seem to function quite right. One thing is certain: you accept the sheet, tuck it on with urgency, and then lay down, burying your face in the crook of the pillow and arm. You kick off your boots and let the darkness take you, swift and heavy. It could be a coma or death disguised as sleep, and you figure you'd still slip into it without fuss. 

Those first days back are quiet. Blissfully uneventful. You sleep and sleep. In fact, you don't move from the couch except to relieve yourself and eat a little. Ghost and Blue don't seem to do much, either. Or maybe you just don't notice.

At one point, you wake up to a small stack of shirts beside the couch. All black. One long sleeve, the rest short. You change into one and continue sleeping. 

At another point, Blue hovers above you with a whisper that draws out a groan from you. "Hey. Ghost is making me skin some rabbits. Apparently, it's the only chore I can't get out of. Do you want to help me?"

"I think I'm good." You stuff the pillow over your face to make your point. 

"You've been sleeping for three days, you know."

"I could go for another three."

She takes the hint and staggers away. Walking now. You hear her right leg drag a little.

The sleep is good until it's not.

On the fifth night, you're no longer fatigued enough to keep the dreams squandered. They start as whispers. Hoarse and gritty. Then they get louder and louder, shouting your name until they are so loud it feels like someone is screaming in your ear. Different voices blend into an indecipherable cacophony. One screams in pain; another in anger. You feel someone's cold fingers take hold of your neck and are finally pried awake, flying up against the couch with fiery pants burning through your lungs. But all that's there is a dark room.

Sweat clings to every inch of you. It feels like everything is on fire, and all you want to do is cool down. You haven't bathed since the river. Catching your breath, you swing your legs down and quietly pad to the bathroom where you hope a little water is left. Luckily, in the glint of moonlight, you find a bucket used for washing hands and scoop some to your face. Then, you comb it through your sweat-laced hair. 

You unwrap your wrist and brush your fingers over the bite. You dab some water on it. You can't see well, but you feel the constellation of congealed scabs beneath your fingertips. Scars. Wounds. Your nostrils flare as a you wonder if one day you'll be so covered in them you won't even look like yourself. It's a good thing there is not enough light to spot the reflection of your face in the mirror, because you're not thrilled to greet the one now on your brow.

On your way out of the bathroom, something solid and immobile blocks your path. You startle backward, sucking in air as you peer up at a masked face. Ghost. It's Ghost. You haven't spoken to him since getting back, and in this moment, you long for the ability to push past him, but his wide shoulders consume the narrow hall. 

It's silly to think you can avoid him when you sleep in the same space now. The thing is— you have no idea what to think of him. Before, it was easy to settle on fear of how easily he could snap your neck, and annoyance for how he treated you. And then, when forced to, you could engage in a pragmatic conversation about how to keep yourselves alive.

But now, you don't know what you are supposed to feel around him, and you have spent zero time reflecting on it so far.

"Sorry. I was just, uh, washing my face."

"In the middle of the night?" he rasps, tilting his gaze down.

You teeter back a step, keeping a healthy bubble of space between your bodies. You're not sure why he hasn't just moved out of the way, or what he would be up and about for at this hour, but briefly, you wonder if he is suspicious of you. If after everything you went through, he still thinks you're trying to do something and might send you back to the shed. The three of you relieve yourself outside the cabin since the plumbing doesn't work, so it certainly does seem odd that you'd be in the bathroom during the night. 

"I was sweating a lot." Inwardly, you curse at yourself. "I mean, I haven't bathed since we got back, and I..." You trail off in a whisper.

"And you what?"

"I don't know." You fiddle with the hem of the oversized shirt he gave you. "I'm not trying to kill you or your daughter in your sleep, though, if that's what you're thinking."

He simply stares at you. It feels like he can see right through you, and your eyes drop to your wool socks. Then, he murmurs, “I wasn't thinking that."

"Okay," you reply carefully. "Could you... please move, then?"

Finally, he steps out of the way, but you feel the burn of his eyes on your skin as you brush past him. 

"Twix."

You pause, looking back. "Yes?"

A shake of his head. And then: "Take a proper bath tomorrow. You could use it.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. "Will do." 

With that, you crawl back onto the couch.

[usoppsstar]

🍂"Bruised" Poly 141 x f! Reader

S: You hurt your foot and the 141 boys take care of you for the day.

Pairing: 141 x f!reader

Word count: 2.3k

Tw: injury; Feet; fluff

Notes: poly cod but you all aren't together yet; my first time writing for cod; how do you write a British accent??; this is proofread but there may still be mistakes🍂🍂🍂

So…” Kyle says slowly as he looks down at you, where you rest on your couch.

“How did this happen again?” He finishes,referring to your elevated leg and the small cotton pad, soaked with witch hazel, resting on your big toe. An hour ago Price got a call from you, asking how to know if you broke a bone, which of course led to all the guys rushing over to your apartment and practically breaking down your door. What they didn't expect was to see you sitting comfortably on your couch, leg propped up on a few pillows, and watching autumn baking tiktoks. The injury they rushed over for was a swollen big toe. You sheepishly scratch at the side of your face before answering.

“I told you. I was in the shower, washing between my toes and my foot slipped off the rail. Next thing you know my toe feels funny and I can't walk on it.” You explain to them again while struggling to stretch your foot, and both Price and Gaz can't help but sigh and shake their heads. How does something like that even happen? Simon walks over and nudges your leg with his own, his arms crossed.

“Don't look all tha’ different ta’ me.” he muses while scanning your foot and you give him an annoyed glare.

“Shut up. It's way bigger than the other. I can't even bend it.” You combat and wince after trying to, making gaz suck his teeth at you for moving it. Johnny makes his way back from the kitchen after helping himself to your chips, and rests his arms over the back of your couch.

“ I don't know hen, haven't they always been this fat?” he teases before getting whopped in the face with a throw pillow. Fall has just started so you have plenty of them. You huff and plop back onto your arm rest, your toe starting to throb from all the stupidity.

“Did you guys come here to bully me or help me out?” You complain. You could take care of yourself if the three stooges just planned on bothering you. Price sighs and nods his head before sitting on the other end of the couch.

“Alright alright, they're done playing. Come here,sweetheart.” He says finally, and you scoot forward a bit to rest your injured foot in his lap. Price gently rotates your ankle to inspect your foot, and the rest of you sit quietly, naturally waiting for your Captain's evaluation. After a short moment John takes another small breath and taps your calf unconcernedly.

“Looks like you've just bruised it against the tub is all. The swelling should go down in about a night or so, nothing to worry about.” He reassures you calmly, and all the men pick up on the barely noticable breath you release. As much as you all play around, they all know how your anxiety can get over the smallest injuries. A small part of your mind can't help but assume the worst when it's not a common ailment. You've gotten better at soothing it since you were younger, but sometimes the thought still crosses your mind. You nod your head calmly.

“Yeah that's what I thought. Just wanted to check.” you sigh softly, and each of them could tell you were relieved. Reading the change in the mood, Soap quickly tickles at your side a little, making you flinch.

“Wow, called us all the way over here for a bruise huh? Looks like someone wanted the princess treatment.” he teases and squishes his face real close to yours, knowing his stubble tickles you. You hold off a laugh and struggle to push his face away from yours.

“No I didn't! And I called Price not you, ya muppet.” you groan as you finally push him away, using one of the words Simon accidentally put you on. Gaz just rolls his eyes at all the bickering and gives your foot another glance.

“Can ya walk on it?” He asks curiously and you shake your head, while Price gets up to take a phone call.

“Nah. It hurts way less than it did in the shower, but I still can't put my weight on it.” You answer honestly at the same time ghost walks over and takes price’s spot, plopping both your legs in his lap.

“Betcha I know how you slipped. Probably lathered yourself in too much of tha’ body wash ya love so much.” He assumes, hitting the nail on the head, and your face starts to burn making you grateful it's not visible. You actually had slipped because you used more gel than usual today. It was only because the water washed away most of it though, so you added more. Which ended up being a mistake, obviously.

“ It was a freak accident, I wash up that way every day and it's never happened before.” You defend yourself and tap at his ribs with your other foot, making him huff a small laugh, letting you know he was probably smirking under his baklava. Kyle just chuckles as he walks past, on his way to get you some ice.

“Don't act as if you don't like when she comes out the Eiffel tower smelling sweet.” He exposes him and lets you take his hand for a second when you grab at it on his way past you. Simon just rolls his eyes while you and Soap laugh. While you all talk, Price finally walks back over and sits on one of your arm chairs.

“Gotcha the day off tomorrow. Can't have ya limping round the base.” he tells you and you smile. That sounded good to you. Walking around on one side of your foot is super tedious, so you'd like to refrain from walking if you could.

“Great, thanks Cap.” You sigh gratefully and swing your legs off of Simon, getting ready to hobble around your kitchen to make dinner.

“ Welp! Thanks for coming to check on me guys, guess I'll be seeing you lat-!” you begin to say before practically each of them start to make a fuss. Johnny gently presses you back onto the couch as Gaz walks back over with a bag of ice cubes.

“Didn't you just say you can't walk?” Kyle says as he crouches down and takes your ankle in his hand. You wince lightly when the freezing cold sensation meets with your hot skin.

“I can walk when I need to. Just not for a long time.” You clarify, trying not to think about how softly gaz is handling your legs and feet. Johnny massages at your shoulders dramatically.

*So we've gotta take care of ya. Can't have our favorite girl limping at home by herself.” He says a little too happily and you roll your eyes with a smile. Price nods in agreement as he gets up and walks towards the door.

“You've got to stay off em hun, if they're gonna get better. We'll take shifts. Ghost you're up first.” he says as he puts on his boots at the door, leaving Simon to hum in agreement. You nod and shrug, fine with that. This wouldn't be the first time Simon has spent the night at your place. Soap yawns loudly and stretches before making his way around the couch.

“I'm gonna head out too Hun. Leaving our sweet Bonnie to you Lt. Don't do anything I wouldn't do.” he says cheekily before looking directly at him and plopping a quick kiss on your lips,knowing it would spur his lieutenant on. You just roll your eyes in embarrassment,and avoid Ghost's gaze, trying not to get too excited about what these little attempts to rile Simon up will mean for you later. Gaz shakes his head with a smile and cuts through the tension by nudging Johnny away and bending towards you.

“Would you two control yourselves?” he scolds, pretending as if he doesn't enjoy this game you all play just as much as the rest of you, before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your lips too. Simon and Johnny watch with heated eyes as the two of you press your lips together, loving the way the brown shades look next to one another. Kyle pulls away casually, leaving your heart to race in your chest.

“Goodnight Hun. I'll be seeing you later” he tells you softly before herding Johnny with him towards the door. You bid the rest of the men goodnight with a sigh, before Simon stands up and heads towards your kitchen.

“Whaddya feel like eating?” he asks while you situate yourself back into your original position and turn your TV show back on. You think about it for a moment.

“ I've got a box of hamburger helper in there, if you can manage that.” You call over your shoulder towards the kitchen. Simon scoffs as he starts a pot of boiling water.

“Course I can handle that.” He grunts, making you laugh. You're about to sink back into your spot when you realize you should probably use the restroom before you get comfortable. Simon looks up from his phone when he sees you limping towards your hallway.

“Oi. Where’re you goin?” He asks with an eyebrow arched under his mask as he rises out of his seat. You pause your hobbling to turn and look at him.

“ I gotta use it. Is that a problem?” You respond with a confused frown, and Simon shakes his head before walking over to you. You yelp when he abruptly plucks you off the ground like a flower, immediately staring into your hallway.

“Simon.” You groan, already bracing yourself for what being cared for by your friends is gonna be like. Ghost just glances down at you.

“You said you can't walk on it right? Looks like I'll have to carry you everywhere.” He says with a poorly concealed smugness to his voice

***

Ghost left before you woke up the next morning, leaving you with a kiss on the forehead, breakfast on the table, and a note saying soap would be by around 12 today. You'd only just finished eating and getting dressed for the day when Johnny finally popped in, a bag full of snacks and movies in his hands. You both spend his shift like that, with your head in his lap, either complaining about a character in a movie or about how your toe feels like someone wrapped it in a too-tight bandaid. Johnny keeps you laughing and keeps you off your feet, cracking jokes about certain characters in a show and running around like a busy bee to get whatever you need. Insists that he massages your legs for you, to improve circulation to your feet he says.

It's around 4 or 5 when Gaz stops by, giving you a sweet kiss and plopping your favorite coffee in your hand and food in your lap, before heading to your room to shower and change out of his clothes. You're full and satisfied by the time he comes out of the bathroom, clean and smelling like the body wash he keeps at your place. You spend your time cuddled together and talking about his day at the barracks. Of course, not with a few sneaky touches and kisses. All the soft kisses and words and caresses definitely keep your mind off your injury.

***

“Hey! I can kind of bend it now!” You cheer to yourself while sitting in your bed in a towel. Kyle left an hour or so ago and you'd just finished your shower without any more accidents( even if it was a little difficult to balance yourself on a foot and a half). You're rubbing coconut oil on your skin when you hear keys unlock your front door. Already knowing who it is, you continue to rub the oil up and down your arms, not jumping to put on something more appropriate like you would've before. There's a knock on your door frame and you look up to see Price leaning against your doorway.

“Hey cap. Rough day?” You greet him, noting the tired look on his face. John just shakes his head before walking inside, stripping himself of his clothes because he knows you won't let him into your bed without doing so.

“Nah, don't you worry about it sweetheart. How's that foot healing up?” he asks as he walks over to your dresser, pulling out a comfortable sweater and a pair of sweats. You try to keep from watching him get dressed, even if it is difficult because he's doing it right in front of you. To occupy yourself, you reach over to your nightstand and grab your new pumpkin-spice body lotion.

“It's doing better. The swelling has gone down.” You report. You're about to squeeze a dollop of lotion on your hand when it's suddenly taken from you. John looks at you before kneeling in front of you and squirting the lotion onto his hands instead.

“You let me take care of tha’ hm? Give me a chance to give her another look over.” he tells you before rubbing his hands together and massaging them up and down your left calf. You sit quietly as your captain pampers you thoroughly, your thoughts swirling as he presses and massages your muscles. Price has moved on to your right leg now, and is gently holding your ankle again.

“Yup, looks like she'll be all better after a few more days. Still shouldn't walk on it though.” He says after giving you a quick once over. You nod as you watch your captain fondly. John looks up when you don't respond and notices your watery eyes. Before he can ask what's wrong, you wipe at your eyes

“Thanks for coming when I called cap. I really appreciate it.” You tell him softly with a shrug, not wanting this to be a big deal. You were just grateful you had support at this new home far from your friends and family. John smiles before pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“Always,love. Anytime.”

A/n: Guess who effed up her toe because she used to much body wash in the shower?? Just a small little drabble I wrote while keeping off my feet. I'm not all the way healed yet, it's only been two days, but it hurts less! Yay my first cod fic down! Thanks for reading!🍂🍂🍂