Cecil Wulf

Current work:

Novel excerpts

Other blurbs

Novel excerpts:

Part I

Part II

Other blurbs:

Resistance

Fear

Spurious

Clean Eleven

Your Wish

Pills:

Pill 1

Pill 2

Pill 3

Pill 4

Pill 5

Pill 6

Pill 7

Pill 8

Pill 9

Pill 10

Pill 11

Pill 12

Ghost:

Ghost Ignores You

Watching You

paint splatters

Bliss (When Cared) << established relationship

In Bed

Soap:

MacTavish

out of breath

Ghoap:

I’ve used the gel before, but I got clear almond nails this time

kinda messy but I’m in love tbh

I feel so girlypop 💅💄💋

fluff, angst, hurt comfort, enemies to lovers, found family..

not smut but rather melancholy uncertainty

You crawl into bed, one socked foot after another, and face the much bigger man.

“So…”

You start, and he waits, his eyes meeting yours in what appears to be ease and calmness. You wait for him to fill in the gap, but he doesn’t. So you continue,

“What now?”

“Hm?” He grunts, although his focused gaze on you tells you that he was paying close attention the whole time, no matter how he may pretend. You adjust the softer blanket on top over yourself, though careful to not take too much of the cover from him, in turn scooting closer to do so. After Way Too Long, he huffs,

“What now…. What?”

It sounds vague, but you think you know what he means.

“Like.. what do we do now? What’s the next step?”

He sighs his old man sigh (you know the one), rubbing a hand over his still masked face (in a sleep balaclava this time, simply black, worn, softer).

“Kid, you askin’ too many questions.”

You do not want to think about your.. feelings in being called that, so you store that away mentally to freak out about later.

You don’t know what to say, so you listen and lay there silently this time. Ghost doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to fill the silence. In fact, he seems more content that way, laying there in unfamiliar comfort, gazing at you like… well, like.. you’re not really sure what that look means, actually. You get curious,

“Is there something you want to say?”

His eyes glint in the slightest twinge of affection studying your face,

self indulgent nonsense>>

You were… well! How could you even begin to describe how you ‘were’?

Things have been, needless to say, overwhelming and overstimulating. And you were - are burnt out. Beyond so: if you were the kindling, your remains were the ashes.

That’s how empty you were. So after a long, hard week of grueling work (whether it be physically, emotionally, or otherwise), once you got home from work, ate, joked around a little, you went into your room and begun to clean. Well, that didn’t last very long when you got distracted untangling yarn from cables and wires and vice versa.. which reminded you of a crochet project you left unfinished, which was-to-be a gift for your sibling. (If you have no siblings, boom, tell your mum I said congrats).

Working with small, stubborn skeins and a metal 3.75 crochet hook does a bit of a number on your fingers after a few hours, though, and you decide to take a break as you feel the draw to stay up all night to finish the work.

You know you will, absolutely will hyperfixate too hard if you let yourself and don’t pay close enough attention to your bodily needs…

It is at this point that not Ghost, but a certain S.R. checks up on you silently from the doorway, door slightly ajar. He peers in, observing your tense form on the bed.

Tense muscles, greasy hair, cramping fingers, but at least focused on something that wasn’t ‘work’ (but still work in a sense). Tired but not aware, dehydrated and yet not aware, hungry and still not aware! He usually wouldn’t intervene as you tend to bounce back (taking your meds the next day when you miss, drinking protein smoothies you make, coffee - wait that dehydrates you more - the occasional tea when you’re not feeling good…).

But something about you today, he sensed that you might appreciate a little assistance in support - in relaxation, if possible. He doesn’t know how to do that exactly, so he goes for what might work clinically.

With a, “right up, dove,” you squeal, as he picks you up with ease, and you drop your work on the blankets. Hopefully nothing unravels. You look around, confused and a bit disoriented once pulled out of your beginning flow state, as you’re sat up on the bathroom counter. You try to meekly (halfheartedly because you didn’t really care) fight him as he strips you down - not roughly despite his calluses, but with the gentle care and smoothened stroke of a lover.

I haven’t written cod in a while.. sorry guys

I’m in the middle of quitting my shitty job for a hopefully better one & it’s hard to get inspired to write while I’m working on my last 2 weeks at this job. I literally passed out last night because I was so exhausted from the emotional strain lol