#Soap has me in a choke hold too | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moonstruckme · 2 months ago

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hiiiii mae!! hope ur having a good day/night, i was wondering if you would do a emt!marauders (or just remus) fic with a reader who maybe has past medical trauma or something so she really hates going to the doctors and avoids unplanned visits at all costs and one day she gets hurt doing something and she tells herself she’s fine but she’s really not (maybe she has like a concussion or something) and she tries to tell the boys she’s okay and she doesn’t need to go to the hospital but they’re like “yes you do u literally don’t know what day it is” and she kinda starts freaking out and they comfort her????

so sorry if you’ve done something like this you’ve written a LOT of fics (which is amazing i love them all) and i haven’t gotten the chance to read them all yet! anyways hope you have a great day i love ur fics so much!!!!!!

Thank you for your request, love you <3

cw: concussion, hospital mention, implied medical fear/past trauma

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 770 words

“This is supposed to be the sort of thing that only happens to old ladies,” Sirius mutters. “Look at James, dollface.”

James’ smile is encouraging. “He knows he’s full of shit. We see people fall in showers all the time, it’s not an age thing. You don’t have to be geriatric for soap to be slippery.”

You know, distantly, that they’re both trying to keep things light for your benefit, but their playacting isn’t helping you. You feel trapped, backed into a corner, and your lovely boyfriends who only want the best for you feel like your captors.

Sirius clicks off the light he was shining in your eyes just as Remus comes back with your clothes. They exchange a look you don’t like.

“Here, sweetheart, put this on.” Remus helps you get a sweatshirt over your head, extra careful to hold the collar away from the aching bump on the back of your head.

You stand from the bed bemusedly as he starts putting your sweatpants on for you, too. You don’t love the vibe of all this coddling, either; the boys are usually only this delicate with you when they’re very concerned, very pitying, or both.

“What’s going on?” you ask, though you already know. It’s not as if you would usually hang about in your towel all night after a shower, but they’re getting you dressed for a reason.

James’ brows twitch together sympathetically. Sirius’ voice is gentle. “Baby, we need to go get your head looked at.”

Your upset blooms fast and hot, tears choking you. “Why?”

“You have a concussion, sweet girl. It seems fairly bad already, and it could get worse.”

“But you’re…you always say hospitals can’t even do anything for those.” You know you sound childish, whiny and difficult, but you can’t help yourself. Your boyfriends don’t seem to hold it against you. James rubs your arm while Remus pulls your socks on with sweet, lingering touches. A tear squeezes out of your eye. “Why do I have to go?”

“You’re right, there’s not much they can do,” says Remus. His voice is calm and even, a balm to your frazzled nerves. “But a concussion can be dangerous, and without tests we won’t know how dangerous it is or if there’s anything they can help with.”

“That’s all we’re going for, angel,” James says lightly. “Just some tests. It won’t take terribly long, and we can stay with you most of the time.”

You’re hardly hearing him, shaking your head despite the way it aches. More tears crest your cheeks, your breaths wet and quick. “Can’t we wait and go tomorrow?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” James takes your hand, squeezing your fingers. “We can’t, my love, but it’s going to be okay.”

“I really can’t.” You pull your hand from his, wiping underneath your eyes. Your hair is still wet from the shower, cold seeping into your fresh sweatshirt. “I can’t do it. Please don’t make me.” Your voice chokes into a quiet squeak on the last few words.

Remus coos and sits beside you on the bed, wrapping you up in a hug. You cry into his shoulder as he rocks you gently, murmuring against the side of your head. “Please,” you try again.

He holds you closer. “I know, darling.” His voice is a low whisper. “I know it’s hard for you, and I know it’s scary, but we’ll be there with you. It’s not going to be as bad as you’re thinking. What we’re going for is really very simple, and Sirius can explain it to you on the way, hm? You’ll be alright.”

When you calm some, he goes to warm the car, passing you off to Sirius and James to get your shoes on.

“Nothing’s gonna happen to you, baby,” Sirius promises, kissing the shell of your ear as he walks you outside. His arm is heavy around your shoulders and James is quick to take your hand after locking the door behind you, bolstering you for what’s ahead. “You think we’re gonna let you get hurt? This is going to be the easiest hospital visit you ever had. We run this place, they’ll have us in and out.”

“I wouldn’t say we run it,” Remus says drily as you three pile into the backseat. “More like we engage with it, in twelve hour shifts, four to five times a week.”

“But we do have lots of friends,” James chips in.

“Exactly.” Sirius busies himself with wiping the last of your tears while James gets your seatbelt on. “Like the radiographer at Bellevue. You’ll see, baby. We’ve got you covered.”

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ladycaramelswirl · 5 months ago

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A Dream Like You

Female reader x Aaron Hotchner

A/N: I did something… hormonal 💀 may delete later

summary: you and Aaron share a bed on a case. oh, also you’re both in love with each other and totally oblivious. And sexually frustrated 🫠

cw: Idk how ratings work but I’m pretty sure this is explicit. (sm*t?) No mention of Y/N! Also quite a bit of swearing, which is unusual for me.

A/N (main): this is my first time writing anything remotely sexual. It’s short! I was writing something completely different but it ended up as… idk what this is. Also I’m sorry for any typos. Enjoy 💀

————————————

You wake up to the most perfect warmth enveloping you. And the delightful smell of soap and a citrus scented laundry detergent. You sleepily bury your nose into the smell. Except the source of the smell is Aaron, who immediately startles awake at your movement, only to go completely still when he realises you’re the reason for the wonderful warmth pressed against him. He tries to move away but you pull him closer, pushing your breasts against his chest and your leg between his thighs, dangerously close to his now extremely hard cock.

You move against him in your sleep, rocking against his sensitive underside, causing him to moan. This was bad. So bad. He really needed you to wake up.

“Hey”, he whispers.

“Mmm”, you mumble into your bedmates neck. “It’s so nice here. Don’t want to get up”.

God you were killing him. He tries to move away, not wanting to disturb your much needed sleep, but you just hold onto him tighter. Were arms supposed to feel this good?

“Please wake up”, he pleads. You needed sleep, but if you kept rubbing against him, he was going come, and then things would be very very uncomfortable. He tries to shake you awake but you rock your hips against him again.

“Fuck”, he hisses, pleasure rushing through him. Your sleepy mind finds immense satisfaction at his voice and starts moving against him harder.

“Oh God”, he chokes.

“You feel so good baby”, you whisper in his ear. You throb with desire. “I need you”, you whine, the friction from your movement sending you into a state of bliss. God you’ve never had a sex dream this good.

Aaron feels his heart race with your movement but it’s your words that cause him to get harder. How was he supposed to forget how you called him baby? He tries to shake you off.

“You need to wake up. I-“, his words are cut off by an uncontrollable gasp of pleasure that escapes him.

You feel desperate for the feeling of him inside you. “Fuck me. Please fuck me”, you beg. It takes all of Aaron’s willpower to push you off of him and he jams a pillow between you. He immediately gets on his feet, needing to get away from you. You let out a disappointed whimper and that’s all he can take before he rushes into the bathroom. He turns the water on in the shower before stepping under it, trying to get the cold water to cool him off. But nothing is helping. He wraps his fingers around his hard shaft, slowly moving it up and down. He grits his teeth together, the memory of your words making it almost impossible to not vocalise his pleasure, but you were still asleep and if you woke up, he’d have to explain why he was so flushed. So he tries his best to be quiet. Your voice plays in his head - “you feel so good baby”. He strokes himself faster. “I need you”. His knees buckle in pleasure. “Fuck me. Please”. His mind goes blank as he experiences an euphoric climax and his legs shake as his gratification covers the bathroom tile. Fuck. He’s never got himself off that fast. Shit. He just fucked himself thinking about you. He immediately feels a surge of guilt. He is your boss. He is not supposed to feel this way about you. And you had thought you were sleeping. He has no excuse for his behaviour. He towels himself off and checks his watch for the time. 4am. It’s too early to get up but he cannot get back into bed with you there so he gets dressed. He leaves a note explaining that he’s gone to the precinct to work on the case and that you should join later with everyone else, then quietly slips out of the room.

The sound of the door closing stirs you from your sleep. You reach for your nightstand to check your watch, but find nothing. The panic of being in a strange room makes you sit up and you remember that you’re in a hotel room on a case. You reach to the right for your watch again only to realise you’re not on the side of the bed you slept on. And that you’re alone but you hadn’t been when going to bed. You notice the note on his nightstand. Of course he was already up at 4am. Unless you had kicked him out of bed by rolling onto his side? Oh God, you hope not. And why did you feel so… sensitive? You notice the pillow between your thighs. You recall your dream, and his sounds of pleasure, groaning in frustration and burying your face in the pillow. Only you’re overwhelmed by the smell of Hotch. It’s enough to have you throbbing again. You’d just had a sex dream of your boss. While in bed within him. Why couldn’t you be attracted to anyone else? It was so embarrassing. And completely inappropriate. You had to pull yourself together. But you felt a desperate ache between your thighs. And the smell of him was overwhelmingly good. Before you can really think about what’s happening you bring one hand to your breast, palming yourself through your shirt and slip your other hand into your sleep shorts, rubbing your sensitive nub. Were dreams supposed to be that vivid? The memory of his body against yours has you imagining your fingers are his. You slip one finger inside, then two. His would be so much thicker, so filling. You throb against your digits at the thought. You can almost hear his moans. You fuck yourself harder. God it feels so good.

“Yes Aaron”, you pant, and you’re not sure if you’re thankful that he’s not here. You pinch your nipples as you swipe at your sensitive bundle of nerves and suddenly remember the sound of him whimpering. It’s enough to make you see white. Your orgasm rips through you and you’re soaked in sweat by the time you come down from your high. You stare at the ceiling, contemplating when you’ve ever had an orgasm that good. Never.

You were so fucked.

———

A/N P.S. : I hope you liked it! should I post the writing that inspired this? It’s pretty much the opposite of this - far away from smut land and very much the capital of pining city. It’s much more my usual style. Anyway let me know what you think :)

Masterlist

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #bau team #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #smut #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #emily prentiss #derek morgan

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s0fter-sin · 1 month ago

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trans!soap taking his baby and running away from his rich abusive husband

(cw angst, financial abuse, single threat of child abuse, single mention of transphobia)

he's owned soap for years, since he was a teenager; paid for his medication and all his surgeries and tied them so deeply, soap’s lost hope of ever getting away. he gets even worse when soap falls pregnant. he was always controlling; blowing up at him if he spent too long out of the house or did something without telling him. but he becomes utterly possessive during the pregnancy

soap knows it has nothing to do with his safety or the baby's

he knows he sees his baby as an investment; another being he can control and hold over him

he gets worse and worse but there’s nothing soap can do. there's been nothing he can do for a long time. then a few months after the baby is born, soap doesn’t watch his tone closely enough and his husband threatens to drop his baby in punishment for it

soap doesn't think. he doesn't plan

he takes his baby and runs

he sneaks out of the servant's quarters of the sterile mansion he's been forced to live in for almost a decade and walks down the street without a backwards glance; his baby the only thing in his arms. he knows all of his husband's cars have trackers, all of them in his name since he never lets soap drive or go anywhere by himself, so he walks far enough to be out of view of the mansion's cameras and steals one. it doesn't have a car seat and all he can do is clutch his baby to his chest as he drives

he doesn't know where he's going beyond away

he doesn't know what he's going to do; he doesn't have any money, no supplies for his baby, he doesn't even have water for himself so he can reliably breastfeed him. he's terrified his husband will find them; he’s always felt omniscient, always everywhere and seeing everything he did. if he didn’t have eyes somewhere, he paid someone who did and they always dutifully reported back to him

soap just keeps his eyes forward. just keeps driving and driving, lost to the road and numb until the low gas light pops up on the dash and it all hits him at once

he turns into a gas station he can't pay for, in a car he stole, and parks behind it and his baby immediately starts getting fussy

he can't even call him by his name sometimes; too afraid to get attached, too afraid to lose him. as if he doesn’t love him more than life itself

even throughout his pregnancy, as happy as he was to finally have a baby, he didn't know if he could carry to term and that fear just let his husband dig his claws in even deeper; paying for extra scans he could never hope to pay for, favours on top of favours so he would aways owe him and isn’t he such a loving husband? taking soap in when his parents kicked him out for being trans, looking after him for all these years? you can’t even take care of yourself john, you’d still be a woman without me, john, what is this tantrum about john-

soap tugs his shirt up to let his baby feed, drops his head back and cries

he can't stop it; wails loud and uncontrolled, chest heaving with his sobs enough that it sways his baby, occasionally breaking his latch and he can't even do this right-

he can't save him

a light knock sounds on the window and soap flinches, curling over his baby to protect him from his huband's cruel hands

but it's not his husband outside the window

soap blinks tears from his eyes and looks at the large stranger standing beside the car. a neck gaiter covers his mouth and it should be off-putting… but something about him stops the feeling in its tracks. the stranger takes a half-step back and lifts a chilled and sealed water bottle, pressing it towards the window

soap quickly swipes his face clean and rolls down the window. "sorry 'bout that," he apologises with a choked laugh, the careful front he’s built over the years cracked and bleeding

the stranger gives a dismissive but somehow not diminishing shrug. "long day?" he asks

"could say that," he gives a shrug of his own and pats his baby's back as he makes a disgruntled noise, unconsciously swaying him

he politely keeps his gaze up on his face. "looks like you could use a break."

soap's breath hitches, anxiously darting his tongue out over his bottom lip. "could say that," he repeats uselessly and takes the water with a quiet “thanks,”; his throat dry and screaming for it after crying so hard

the stranger hums, watching him down the bottle and soap doesn’t notice his eyes drifting to the backseat and footwell of the passenger side. doesn’t notice the slight tension in his fists at what he sees. "how long you been runnin', lad?"

soap freezes, the water settling in his stomach like a stone. he swallows thickly and the bottle falls from his lips

"not long enough."

the stranger just nods, looking idly back down the highway

"you know, this place is connected to a garage,” he starts, nodding back to a building attached to the station without taking his eyes off the road. “lotta people drift through 'ere on road trips; too many to keep track.”

soap frowns slightly, shifting his hold on his baby

“funny thing is, plenty of 'em just abandon their car when they break down. like yours,” he adds and finally turns back to him with a pointed look. “got a whole junkyard of 'em. just rustin' away. be pretty easy to convince me to trade ya one."

soap’s mouth parts in a gasp as he realises just what the stranger’s saying. "how easy?" he whispers

he shrugs and even with his face hidden beneath the gaiter, he doesn’t feel afraid. "i'd say this car'd be a good deal. would blend right in with the rest of ‘em; no one’d ever notice it. what say i take it off your hands?"

soap's breath shudders out of him, his whole body going limp with relief. his baby's eyes fall shut with a satisfied hum and for the first time he can remember, he feels the gentle touch of hope

"i think we can work something out."

🧼💀

ghost owns the service station soap pulled into. he wanted something quiet and isolated after he retired and you can’t get much quieter than a backwoods servo surrounded by forest. he hasn’t had anyone pull in in days so he’s quick to notice soap’s car. he’s also quick to notice soap's subsequent breakdown in one of the cameras. the sight of him crying, desperately clutching a baby like they’re all he has left in the world, is so familiar he felt sick with it

he knows someone running when he sees it

if he didn't check on him, if this lad disappeared one day and the baby along with him, he'd never forgive himself. the lad doesn't even have a baby bag or car seat with him, and the personalised sticker on the back window of a lady and a dog is a dead giveaway that the car is stolen

but the lad is terrified. and when he startled him, he didn't turn. didn’t lift his arms to protect himself. no

he covered his baby

like he was afraid he'd be hurt

that's enough for ghost

🧼💀

i'd wanna set this in the 80's or 90's, just to make it even harder for soap to get away from his husband. he's a trans man with a newborn; he has no one to run to and no resources to help him. his husband's bought and paid for everything for him since he was 17; a few whirlwind weeks of unbelievable dates and extravagant gifts and he was living in his mansion, getting married the day after his 18th birthday. he thought it was love. thought he was being looked after and cared for the way he’s always wanted

he was in pain and alone and naive enough to believe the first person who came along and promised to make it better. nothing's in his name, not his insurance or his meds, he doesn’t have a bank account or savings; other than a birth certificate, nothing even ties him to his baby. his husband could take his world away from him with a snap of his fingers and he made sure soap always knew it

he never had a chance of getting away

but ghost is ex-military

he doesn’t know the lad’s story, doesn’t know the details of what he’s running from. he doesn’t need to know

he decided he was helping him the second he pulled into his service station

#what up i had a nightmare about an eldritch horror trying to steal my baby and john mcclane from die hard shooting it to protect me #i woke up freaked out and decided to torment soap with it to feel better #thats literally the only reason this exists #that and the thought of soaps super hairy chest but thats besides the point #anyway #i was going to have ghost be a drifter after retiring but i like the idea of him being the unlikely safe person living out in the woods #ghost moves soap into the little one bedroom cabin he built behind the station #its hidden by the trees and kept warm by a fire. he gives soap and the baby the bedroom and sleeps out in the living room #he keeps watch out the window for whoevers after soap #he doesnt find out who it is for a while; soaps been burned and reluctant to trust anyone #but they gradually heal each other; ghost gives soap someone to trust and soap helps ghost heal his truma by giving him someone he can save #soap starts to work in the service station despite ghost telling him he doesnt need to but he wants his independence back #he finds he likes working and ghost cant take that from him when hes so obviously happy cleaning and shelving stock #soaps husband comes looking for him but ghost still has his contacts and calls a whole militia down on his head #each one of them with favours in the government if not outright political immunity; money means nothing in the face of them #they just threaten him; lets him know soap is protected now #at least; thats what ghost tells soap 😉#coming out of my cage and ive been doing just fine.txt #we’re a team. ghost team #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #john soap mactavish #soap cod #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #save post

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soapsbaby · 2 years ago

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Bunch of Deviants II

Summary: Second part of me assigning a k!nk to each of the 141 + Alejandro, Rudy, Graves, König and Valeria that I could imagine them having. You can find part one here. Enjoy!

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, König, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, Phillip Graves, Alejandro Vargas, Rudy Parras, Valeria Garza, all x reader

Rating: NSFW (minors DNI)

Warnings: Choking, Primal Kink, Free Use, Degradation

Word Count: 1.3k-ish

Ghost - Primal

He loves the thrill of hunting you down. Even though you of course know that it's just him, the panic you feel when he catches you is genuine. The way he towers over you, eyes cold except for the sense of victory in them that he caught you and that you are now his to deal with whatever he wants to.

Usually he just takes you right where he catches you, ripping your clothes from your body and fucking you, pinning you down and just holding you in whichever position he needs you in.

He will be so humiliating and degrading, oh, you should run faster next time, are you actually enjoying this? you really are a needy little slut.

After he has come and you are all fucked out he will hold you, just pressing you to his chest until your heartbeat returns to a normal pace.

Soap - Receiving Nudes at Work

He loves when you rile him up through the entire day, sending him pictures, videos or voice messages, telling him how badly you want him, how you need him, how you've been touching yourself all day but it just doesn't compare to when he does it.

He won't be able to think straight until he's finally back home with you and gets to actually fuck you, working off the frustration you put him through.

Usually he just has to get himself off as quickly as possible, fucking you desperately, but he isn't done just because he came. Usually he'll take his time afterwards to eat you out for as long as you can take.

He also makes sure to save all of the messages so he can go through them later, especially on long missions with bad internet reception where it is all he can use to get himself off.

Price - Watching you Touch yourself

He loves watching you touch yourself for him. It started once when he walked in on you and instead of joining in, he just sat down on the foot of the bed, telling you to keep going even though your first reaction was to cover yourself with your blanket.

He loves the way he can read your body, can tell when you are getting closer, those little whines when you push yourself right up to the edge. He knows you too well.

He loves watching you come for him while he strokes himself. You look so beautiful when you do and he takes in every aspect of you, the way your eyelids flutter shut, your legs shaking and your mouth falling open, his name spilling over your lips.

His favorite part is when he finally gets to fuck you for round two, you are so wet after you've come once already and you are so whiny and sensitive.

Gaz - Free Use

Free use goes both ways for you. Especially if you have longer periods of vacation times where you can stay home you will fuck wherever and whenever. Whether it is you walking in while he plays video games and sucking him off while he tries to not let the people on voice chat know or him pushing up your dress while you are working in the kitchen to fuck you from behind, you love being available for each other.

For convenience you both usually don't wear much clothes at home anyways and you also sleep naked.

Of course you both know that you can deny favors to one another if you are not feeling up to it, but neither of you really ever do. Each other's pleasure is enough motivation.

König - Thigh Riding

Having you ride his thigh is one of his favorite things, he loves the way it gives him close to no physical stimulation so he can focus completely on you without any distractions.

He loves the desperation in your eyes when you drag yourself across him, grinding your hips against his leg because it's the only thing he'll let you have if he's feeling strict.

Sometimes, when you are already overstimulated he will grab you by the hips and make you grind down even harder and faster, feasting on your whimpers.

It's one of his favorite ways to make you come, the way your movements stutter and he has to grab you to hold you upright, whispering sweet praise into your ears.

Graves - Pegging

It took him so, so long to admit to you that he wanted you to peg him. He was terrified that you would reject him or even be weirded out by his request. He didn't want to make you feel any different about him.

Of course you didn't, and you both loved it from the first time you tried it out. Everything about his reaction to being fucked refuses to leave your mind, the way his body just seemed to melt into the sheets, legs refusing to support him, hands tangled in the sheets for some form of support.

You have never heard him moan the way he does every time you peg him, his mind just immediately turns into putty and all of his dirty thoughts just spill out, begging for you to go harder.

Will usually be able to come hands free if you take your time with him.

Alejandro - Degradation

He loves you more than anything in the world and he respects and adores you, but there is just something about treating you like a dirty whore that gets him going like nothing else.

He loves making you give him sloppy blowjobs and making you drool all over him, he loves bending you over whichever surface is closest to you and just taking you then and there.

He loves treating you like you are property, like you're a toy he gets to use to get himself off, pushing you into whichever position he wants you in.

He doesn't let go until you have come at least a few times, his favorite is when you come around his cock, the way you clench around him and that sweet, overwhelmed look in your eyes drives him insane.

He will always make sure afterwards that you are okay and that you know that none of the ways he treated you reflect how he actually feels about you and that you know how much he loves and appreciates you.

Rudy - Choking

The majority of the time there is no clear dom-sub relationship between the two of you, however, he adores you choking him.

His favorite position is when you are riding him and then wrap your hands around his throat, just tight enough to make him a little dizzy.

He'll beg for you to kiss him, take away even more of his ability to breathe.

He comes so hard being choked, almost passing out and whimpering for you to go harder on him.

Valeria - Strap-Ons

It doesn't matter what your gender is, if you let her, she'll use her strap on you.

She almost sees it as an extension of herself, she adores seeing you on your knees and making you suck the strap, praising and degrading you at the same time as she fucks your throat as deeply as you can take it, "such a pretty slut, so needy for my cock, aren't you?"

She fucks you like she wants you to never be able to walk again, rough and deep, long deep strokes. If the position allows it she'll also use her hands on you, circling your most sensitive spots with her thumb and taking pleasure in your desperate, whiny moans.

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on-a-lucky-tide · 5 months ago

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Nik misunderstands Soap's call sign. Ends up in a little heart to heart with Gaz.

CW: none.

They're back at base after a particularly gnarly jaunt through the arse end of the world. Ghost has his arm in a sling, Soap's battered, Price has an ice pack against his lower back, and Gaz has a black eye and lost a molar after taking a rifle butt to the jaw during a scuffle. Nik's sitting rosey for the most part; his bird has a few extra bullet holes but he'd soon patch those up.

They end up in the hanger after medical has finished with them, too exhausted even to drag their arses to bed. They pass around a bottle of Ghost's bourbon, while Nik and Price share a cigar. They're sitting in companionable silence, reflecting on how close they'd come to a six foot and a half wooden box planted in the only bit of real estate they'd ever be able to afford on an army salary, and then...

"Nik," Soap says as he swirls the bourbon around in its bottle, "s'yer call sign, aye? Not yer birth name."

"Da," Nik replies, offering nothing more as he exhales a cloud of smoke and passes the cigar over his shoulder to Price. They're sitting back to back, because it lets Price keep the ice pack in place without holding it, no other reason.

Soap relinquishes the bottle into Gaz's custody and sniffs, leaning back on his palms, legs thrown across at the ankle. "Where's it come from?"

"It is from Nikolai Krasnov. He was a hero fighter pilot in the Second World War. Four hundred sorties, one hundred aerial battles and forty-one enemies shot down," Nik considers the tumbler of vodka in front of him; he doesn't drink bourbon because it gives him heartburn, "also Nikolai Gastello, Nikolai Gusarov... All awarded highest honours. It is a name with, what do you say, a pedigree."

"That's pretty cool, N--" Gaz starts, but Soap scoffs, taking the bourbon back.

"Mate, n'aw, that's proper old man that is. Yer half way t' watchin' the History Channel on a recliner."

Nik raises an eyebrow. "Is better than all of you."

"Oh aye?"

"Da. Price is Bravo-Six because he is boring," Nik says, and Price nods solemnly, clearly a little banjaxed on a combination of the vodka Nik is sharing with him and the bourbon that crosses his path every now and then. Nik gestures at Ghost. "He is Ghost, which is like a James Bond novel villain, no?" Ghost's eyes flicker, "Gaz is new... He gets a pass--"

"Cheers, Nik."

"--you are welcome sergeant, and you," Nik points two fingers at Soap, "you are Soap because you are the lieutenant's bottom."

Soap sprays bourbon through his nose, Gaz barks a laugh and then creases over in stitches, and Price chokes on the lungful of cigar smoke he's halfway through. Ghost pinches his nose through his mask.

"Fuckin' hell, Nik, I can't--I can't breathe!" Gaz rolls onto his back, arms clasped over his abdomen.

Soap blusters. "Oh aye, feckin hilarious. How'd ye figure that one out then?"

"When your diet is as bad as yours, there is a need to--"

"Nik! Tha's not--I mean, me and him, how'd'ye get that in yer heid?"

Nik glances between Soap and Ghost like they're pulling one over on him. "The flirting over the radio, you are always together, you are grumpy when apart, you--Captain, you--"

Price blows a puff of smoke towards the roof of the hanger and passes the remains of the cigar over his shoulder. "Nope, nah," he flaps a hand, hiccups, and rolls onto his front like he's about to low-crawl his way out. "You're on your own 'ere, mate, urgh, fuck... Need a slash... then bed."

"Coward," Nik huffs.

"Yep." Price stumbles to his feet, nearly nuts the tail of the helicopter they're sitting near, and hobbles away with a quiet groan, leaving Nik to face down a red-eared Soap and a stoic Ghost; Gaz is cackling into the bottle of bourbon.

"Nah, he's right, time to call it a night. We're up at 0600 for a debrief," Ghost says finally.

Nik frowns. "Lieutenant, I am sorry if I have offended. I have clearly misread the situation, and--"

"Soap got his call sign because he's good at cleaning house; he's quick, accurate," Ghost rolls to his feet with remarkable grace considering his injury and the volume of bourbon currently in his bloodstream, "besides, I would bottom. I have impeccable gut health."

Soap barks a laugh. "Eh, good one, L.T.." Ghost looks at him; it's a lingering, rather hungry gaze that stretches a little beyond their usual homoerotic banter, but he says nothing and turns before Soap can fully digest it. Soap's smile vanishes into wide-eyed bewilderment, and he stumbles to his feet, calling after Ghost with one outstretched hand. "Oi, sir... Ye... Sir, for real? Was that a--? L.T., wait up. Sir!"

Gaz and Nik watch them leave, and once Ghost's plentiful arse and Soap's flailing self are out of sight, Gaz grins. "Hollow points, RVs and relationships, best fixer in the biz. Well played."

Nik grins back and they clink their bottles together. "It was too good an opportunity."

"Excellent form, mate. Is there anythin' you can't fix?"

Nik hums as he swigs his vodka, glancing towards the door that Price had vanished through moments prior. Gaz sighs. "Oh yeah, how's it going with the captain? You taken him on a date yet?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Mate, mate, being between you two when it's just us three on ops is cringe. Not quite as bad as them," Gaz juts his chin after Ghost and Soap, "but fuck me, I could puke."

"I am sorry."

"Don't be. You're an open book. Captain Oblivious needs to open his eyes. Could shoot a gnat's bollocks off at a thousand metres but he misses you chasing his tail like a puppy. It's insane."

Nik huffs. "I have asked Laswell for advice."

"Oh yeah? I bet she loved that."

"She has said he has a phrase... What is it, 'you should not shit where you eat'," Nik says sadly.

"Oof, yeah, that sounds like Price," Gaz pats Nik on the back of the shoulder, "so, what? Calling off the mission?"

"Nyet, never. I am Russian; the pining and heartbreak, it is all part of the romance. But I will only take a happy ending, no tragedy. Price will be mine."

Gaz laughs. "Fair," he raises his bottle in a toast, "to romance and happy endings."

Nik meets Gaz's bottle. "Of all kinds, my brother." He wriggles his eyebrows and Gaz cracks up cackling again.

#captain john price #cod nikolai #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #ghoap #nikprice #call of duty #cod

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astracora · 7 days ago

Text

Turning Point - Part 2

Characters: Poly!LADs x gn!mc

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, Angst, Loss of Arm, Lots of emotional struggle with disability.

Word Count: 4260

Written: 3rd January 2025

Notes: Pre-relationship with gn!MC with all LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. Unnamed MC, but using my personal MC's basic appearance and adjusted backstory. I take some liberties with what the game offers me. You know I said 'sometime', turns out that was today. I have brainrot. Also, the birth of the group chat!

Now Playing: Hit the Ground, by if found

Masterlist AO3

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You absently stare into the bowl as Zayne sutures your wounds. His hands are steady now, that he has a task. You'd felt him trembling earlier, fingers colder than they normally were, against your skin. At odds with the almost fever you were running.

He's a familiar person to tend to you, you hadn't realised how uncomfortable you'd felt in a hospital without him. Other people putting your broken pieces back together again. Until you'd relaxed at his hands. You're not used to being seen fragile, you don't like it when Zayne sees you like that, but you dislike it even more when someone else sees it.

Though… you can see the others looking at you. Watching as you flinch, at each pass of the needle.

That need to run, to hide, lurks at your back. Trembling. You don't want to be weak for them. Xavier is your partner, he has to rely on you in a fight. You're Rafayel's bodyguard, who can he rely on if he's scared for you. Sylus is far too strong to look at your weakness, and see anything other than a pathetic little cat that's too much work. Zayne will eventually grow tired of helping you, of being there.

Seeing you like this, surely reminds them that you're too much work, that you're a waste of the effort they put into you. Reminds them how fragile the little fluttering organ is in your chest. Pushes you into an unappealing light. Spotlighting every ding and scratch and dent.

Rafayel had eased you through the motions to get clean, gently cleaning around your wounds. Ensuring Zayne could disinfect you, and tend to you. He had kept his face controlled. While you had barely wanted to look at his face, the lack of expression on him had made you peer into his eyes. Seeking out an explanation, information… anything. Desperate to understand what was going through your fish's mind.

Too scared to ask. In case he was disgusted, horrified… hated you. When he'd noticed you trying to catch his eyes, he'd turned towards you. Hand stiling, soap suds on his own skin, soaking through his white shirt. After a moment, his smile, small but familiar, had returned.

"Are you comfortable?"

It was a hard question to answer. You weren't sure you could ever be comfortable, not before, not now. Your body felt off, wrong. Twisted into shapes that didn't fit under your skin.

He ran the sponge gently down your arm, gentle circles against your skin. His other hand on your waist, carefully avoiding any injuries and bruises, thumb rubbing circles, putting pressure in a spot you could fixate on. The heat of his skin a familiar brand. Not unlike the brand that glowed on his neck.

You wanted to reach for his hand, but the limb that wasn't there couldn't move. It couldn't grasp him, and the choke in your throat startled him upright. Hand moving to your face, holding your cheek and grounding you. "It's ok cutie, it's ok." Pressing his forehead to yours and pressing a kiss to the side of your face, "I'm not going anywhere. You have this fishie for life, got it?"

The nod you offer back to him is weak and numb, but you find yourself nuzzling him, seeking him out, eyes closed so you don't have to worry about what you'll see in his eyes. Just what you feel in his hands. Hear in his words.

As Zayne finishes up his work, gently applying bandages to your now clean, freshly tended wounds, he exhales relief. Warm breath against your back, before helping you slip into an overly large button-up of Xavier's to keep warm.

You stare at the sleeve, empty and fallen against your side… you want to tear it off.

It's a violent, angry feeling. Vicious and snarling in your gut. Hissing.

Your hand reaches up, but you wince at the pull on your sutures, and it falls back down. Xavier reaches over, one hand soothing your fingers from where they've tensed into a claw, "Eat, Starlight." before he begins to roll the offending sleeve up. Rafayel hands him some of the bandage pins, and eventually it sits at your shoulder.

It's better. It's not perfect. It's better.

Even if it makes it harder to ignore.

You hesitantly reach for the spoon, lifting it, spilling some of the soup over onto the pillow you'd been clutching on your lap. You ignore it, hunger snapping, and focus on food. The food you haven't eaten since the hospital let you go. It doesn't take long before you're shoveling it into your mouth, hand shaking, and spilling down your chin, but finishing the bowl. Ravenous. You come close to licking the bowl clean, but it's taken away, and refilled before you can. So you resume feeding the beast in your stomach.

Finally, you are sated, and calmer. There is a mess on the pillow you can't even bear to think about cleaning, and you're licking at the mess that spilled down the spoon onto your hand. Before Sylus has a wet wipe in his own, wiping at your cheeks. Cleaning your chin. You blink up at him, his controlled expression. Nothing shining through his eyes, though he laughs a little, "Messy little kitten, aren't you?"

It should be embarrassing, you think it is. You know it should be. You aren't a child, you don't need tending to… but you're so tired, and already so full of emotions you can't name. Twisting around your heart. That this is the lowest concern for you.

If he was going to hate you for being messy, then it's just another thing he can find disappointing about you.

Rafayel laughs, and it sounds more like him, "I told you I make the best fish, cutie." You look over, seeing him watching you.

You feel naked under the adoration in beautiful eyes. Turning away, to look back at the others.

It's… odd seeing them all in your apartment, the little dumb part of your brain provides. It's definitely not big enough for five people. Zayne is next to you on the sofa, packing his tools away. Raffy is sat on the floor, legs crossed, he is playing with party fish in his lap. Squishing its cheeks. Xavier is leaning forwards against the table, arms crossed and chin resting on them, while he has his eyes focused on you. Sylus is leaning against the wall, he has opened the window, so Mephisto has settled on your lamp as a perch, and he flips a coin around his fingers.

You realise absently, that he's ready incase you need something, to move and grab it. Or to refill the bowl again.

When you finally manage to speak, it's a dumbfounded question, asked in a hoarse, sore voice, "When did you all meet?" It's not the most pressing issue, but you cannot seem to move forwards from the image of the four of them here.

Standing in front of you. Not… killing each other? Or at least, not trying to kill Sylus. Maybe they just didn't… know who he was. You'd only ever talked about him as Skye.

Zayne lets out a sigh, pushing his glasses up, and looks over at the others, "Today. Outside your door, except for Xavier, who I ran into when I was chasing up information about you at the Association."

"You have a lot of friends, cutie." Raffy pouts, resting his cheek on the top of party fish's body. "Here I was thinking I was your favourite fish."

It's not really a laugh that you respond with, but it's as close as you can get, "You're the only fish I know, Raffy, of course you're my favourite." His responding smile is soft, eyes wavering like flames, as he looks right at you. Happy to hear even a small bit of joy out of you.

"That needs explaining." Zayne looks over at Rafayel, an eyebrow raised, "Along with the Crown Prince, nonsense from earlier."

Xavier's shoulders jump and he pouts, "It's not important."

"What a terrible lie from a prince." Sylus purrs from where he stands, canines sharp and glinting.

"Says the crime lord."

"Excuse me?" Zayne's hand reaches out to pull you back and a little closer to him, eyes narrowing on both Xavier and Sylus now. "Skye is who?"

"Sylus, actually, dear doctor. Don't worry, I don't bite." His head tilts, looking at you with a smirk, "Unless I like you."

You jump, cheeks heating up a little, turning to look at Zayne who looks ever more like a headache is brewing, and his blood pressure is rising. "The leader of Onychinus… Didn't he try to kill you?"

"How cruel, I wasn't the one shooting the gun."

"What?"

You cover your face with one hand, rubbing at the space below your eyes, where strain is setting in. They notice the reaction, quietening down as you shrink back in on yourself. Tired, worn and aching.

"Take these." Zayne extends the medication you threw, as Sylus hands you a glass of water.

You want to throw them back. If you take them, it means you need them. It makes this reality.

You know that the fact they're seeing you, right now… like this, means its reality. It doesn't make it any easier.

Zayne takes your hand, firm, stable, and cool hand easing yours open, rubbing a circle into your palm with his thumb, before putting the tablets in it. Counted out properly. "Take them." It's as close to an order as you can get, and it's enough to make you ease them into your mouth, taking the glass from Sylus to wash the vile taste away. You almost sputter, but a warm hand gently eases the back of your neck. You see bright red eyes watching you, narrowing, as he helps you swallow.

You feel like you're staring into the abyss for a moment, before they melt into lava, and soften into concern. When he sees you're alright, he releases, but not before tracing your cheek with the backs of his fingers.

"You should sleep, starlight." Xavier frowns, he looks like a sad rabbit, ears drooping. You want to reach over to pat his head, but your arm is sore and tight where the stitches pull. For a moment you look at the prosthetic where it sits on the table.

You'd spent this whole time ignoring it, like if you ignore it, it won't turn into a monster and rip you apart. It sits there, silver metal and black leather. The urge to throw it doesn't come back, which surprises you.

It doesn't look like a beast. Like a monster.

It's just a piece of technology, sitting there, staring at you.

"Or can you tell us what happened? If you don't want to sleep." Xavier adds. Watching where your gaze settles. He reaches out, hesitates, then pulls his hand back. Like he's scared to touch something that hurts you this way. Normally so willing to jump into danger for you, but this… it's a different kind of pain, he can't fight for you.

The offer is said softly. Your partner wasn't there when you got hurt, the guilt in his eyes, for not being there when you needed him most. You have to alleviate it.

He isn't to blame.

You are.

So you put the pillow aside, reaching for one that doesn't need cleaning, and pull it to your chest, needing something to hold to process. They watch as you do, and then you slowly speak.

Explain to them it was just another mission.

Metafluctuations, weak but present, in an old apartment building that was due for demolition. It was a quick check, if anything happened, you were to contact Tara. Hunters in the area ready to step in if it was worse than expected.

There were some knaves in the building, weak and easy to deal with, but too close to populated areas to be left alone. Once they had been dealt with, you checked for any other fluctuations. Nothing had stuck out, your resonance hadn't returned anything to be concerned about.

Until the Myst appeared, another of Ever's twisted tools, swinging its horrific battleaxe around the area, destroying everything in its path. You'd been surprised but you were capable, you'd sent the message to Tara. You'd been ready to fight, before the building shook, its foundations cracking, the walls falling in.

The ceiling falling down.

Debris raining down on top of you, and the framework of the building smashing down around you.

The Myst had gone to attack you, but the pain, the bloodloss, the metal pinning your arm had made you useless. Unable to protect yourself or fight back. You'd pulled against the metal, struggling, but too slowly.

You remember gunshots. Other hunters yelling, but that was when you'd blacked out. Relieved someone had reached you, stopped this monster from hurting anyone else.

If you were going to die, at least you knew one of Ever's tools wouldn't be out destroying more lives. Yours was an easy trade to make for that.

You'd woken up in hospital, arm already gone, wounds sutured, body bandaged. Numb to the world thanks to the anesthesia. Drifting in and out of tormented sleep. Remembering flames, and metal pinning you, as you watched it burn. Watching bones turn to ash, and skin ripping against the strain of your struggle.

You'd been sent home to rest when they thought it safe to let you go, giving you instructions for a psych eval, and the information for your physical therapy. Tara had brought you home, you'd felt numb and empty… but aware enough that you didn't want anyone else to know. No one else to see.

She's suggested calling people, you'd begged her not to. Limbs so weak she had to struggle to help you around. She'd brought you to the apartment, helped you get into bed, and asked if she could stay.

You'd promised to be fine, you'd call her. You promised you'd call her.

You were a liar. Just like Caleb. Promising when you'd wake up, you'd see him everyday.

You'd tried to sleep, you had, but it ached, everything ached, and you kept reaching for your phone with an arm that wasn't there. You kept trying to roll over, but pulling stitches.

The fabric on your bed began to itch and hurt, and bother every part of you. So you'd pulled yourself, heaving, nauseous and dizzy out of your bed. Falling to the floor, where you'd stayed, unwilling to struggle anymore. Not wanting to look at the world around you anymore.

Then they'd found you, a few days later. Exhausted, hurting and just existing in a space where you could only crave a release from it.

Dragging you back into the land of the living.

Zayne looked even more exhausted than he normally did, leaning back a little into the sofa, looking up at the ceiling. Sylus was watching you with a look that indicated he had a lot to say, and was unsure where to start, arms folded across his chest. Rafayel had slinked forward, and had placed his cheek against your lap, hand reaching up to hold onto your leg. Keeping you there, with him. Xavier hadn't stopped staring at you, his starry eyes had dimmed, losing the bright light in them, as he watched you.

Disappointed in you.

You'd messed up, and he'd realised.

Pity.

You were pitiful.

"You're alive." Zayne exhales, voice breaking, as he leans back forward. "You're alive, and that's what matters."

It surprises you. You're not sure why. Zayne has told you many times… all he wants is for you to be alive. That no matter what else, that is what matters. For you to be there, no matter what form you hold. To keep moving, to keep breathing, to keep living.

To live.

You'd teased him for having a low bar for happiness, and he'd smiled, that small but warm smile, looked at you and told you that with you, the happiness came from you being there.

It is a low bar, you suppose, but you are hunted, and hated by people whose faces you cannot even know. You have a job where you fight everyday, to protect others. You exist in a world where your heart could fail you, any moment.

To be alive, means you have not been defeated yet.

It is a low bar… but you suppose it is a starting point.

"I'm alive." You affirm, even though you feel fragile and broken and worthless. Even though you feel like you did all the way through your teen years. Waiting for Caleb to turn his back on you, stop caring for you. Think you are too much work.

You are alive, against all odds, and against anyone's attempts to change it.

Despite fate biting at your heels, to hold you back with thorned chains.

It's enough… maybe. For now.

Xavier stands as your head begins to droop, the days of struggle catching up with you. He crouches in front of you, "Can I please, take you to bed? You need to sleep, starlight." Your nod is unbidden, because truly you can't focus on anything now. The medication is working, and it is moments before you pass out.

The blood loss, the pain, the fear. You are a puppet whose strings are cut. Left in the hands of artisans who have mended broken parts.

"We'll be here when you wake up, cutie. Promise."

"Good night, kitten."

Warm arms lift you like you are a feather, pressed against familiar heat and scent, carried gently. Gliding. You barely register the blankets, but your bed is remade. It no longer smells metallic. As you're tucked in carefully, your lone hand grasps at Xavier, keeping him from pulling away. Scared to face the inevitable alone.

Scared to be alone.

No one there to help when you're at your lowest.

No matter how independent, no matter how long you've fought and moved forwards alone, you don't want to be alone now. When everything is crashing down, and you feel worthless.

"I'll stay." He promises, brushing your forehead, pressing a kiss there. Cool and calm, and tranquil. A starry sky you've stared at every day.

It is enough to push you to the edge, and down into the quiet.

—---

When Xavier reenters the room, he's yawning. Made tired by watching you fall into sleep himself.

He closes the door behind him, hearing hushed conversation and approaches the living room. This time everyone is sitting, even Sylus. Who has settled somewhat since you had left the room, no longer on guard. No longer waiting to appease a desire. Any desire.

"Let me get this straight, you're a lemurian… as well as a famous artist-"

"I'm actually more insulted you don't know my art at all, doc." Rafayel pouts, tightening his grip on party fish. There's the small look in his eye like he wants to throw it at the other man's head, but reigns in the urge. Like a cat debating knocking a glass off the table, but getting caught.

Zayne sighs, and continues, "You're the crown prince of Philos, who… traveled back in time?" He turns to look at Xavier, who settles himself into some of the cushions you kept in the living room for gaming with him.

Xavier shrugs, unconcerned with the title, he hasn't held it after all for a very long time, "I'm just Xavier."

The doctor rubs his eyes again, hesitating on the edge of just walking out. If it weren't for the figure in the other room, sleeping through the pain. This time he looks at Sylus, who is leaning back in a chair like a king, arms crossed and head tilted back. "And you?"

"I'm just Sylus." The man teases, flashing canines that shouldn't be as sharp as they are. "I just happen to run the N109 Zone."

"Right. The natural enemy of the Hunter's Association, and the people who wanted the core in their heart."

"You can mistrust me if you like doctor, but kitten is in no danger from me."

"Hard to believe."

"Well, the best things often are." It sounds like a jest, but for a second the man's eyes soften. Looking for a second at the closed door before they sharpen into gems again, "But whether you believe it or not, I'm here for them."

The doctor looks at Xavier, who barely reacts, face downturned, buried in pillows, he can already tell what question is coming.

Don't you have anything to say?

Can he be trusted?

"Does it matter?" Xavier manages, his finger pointing at the little crow charm on the man's phone, "They trust him."

Zayne and Rafayel both look, then at their own phones. A tiny snowman and a little fish.

Xavier knows his own sports a little star.

Mishapen and messy, made with Tara on an outing you and her had gone on, eager to keep the other hunter company for things. Hungry for friendship.

Companionship.

Connection.

Rafayel groans, leaning back on his hands, legs stretching out, "Cutie makes all the worst friends."

Sylus scoffs, "Friends."

Agitation makes the fish glare, eyes narrowing, and this time the plushie flies at Sylus, who catches it in his EVOL with a laugh. Gently placing it down, so he doesn't damage something you value. "Stupid crow."

"Calm down fish, someone will think you're steamed and take a bite."

No one misses the small blush over the man's ears at Sylus' purr, which just makes the man laugh a little more.

"Well, if no one is leaving-" Xavier starts, yawns, and then forces himself to sit up a little to continue, "we should figure out what to do. Otherwise this will happen again."

Rafayel shrinks, "I've never seen cutie like that. They're always so…" his sigh carries the weight of years he can't share, and he shakes purple hair like he's trying to shed the memories, "strong."

"The strong can't always be strong." Sylus offers, turning a coin in his fingers again, staring off out the window.

Zayne hums his assent, "They need to go to physical therapy, pick themselves back up again. Adjust, as hard as it will be. I can attend their therapy sessions when available, moral support can make the difference between failure and success for some."

"I can help around the house, visit them. I'm just upstairs after all."

"They'll need to eat, and get out of the apartment. See people." Sylus adds, he pulls out his phone, typing a message to Luke and Kieran to prepare a replacement for the door. Sooner than possible.

"I suppose between us we can make sure this works."

"You want us to work together?"

Zayne sighs, "As much as the idea of asking a wanted man-"

Xavier laughs under his breath, but doesn't explain. He does think about the three wanted posters, however.

"for assistance, taking care of someone important to me, I would rather have all of our bases covered, and then to have a wider support system in place. Unless anyone has any objections?"

There's nothing, just a quiet accord between four people. Thinking about the room near them, full of something precious. Worth protecting.

"I suppose we've got a deal, doctor." Sylus nods, standing, "I'll be back in a little while to fix the door. Until then I'll move some things around so I'm more available."

Rafayel hops up, "I'll be right back, I'll grab my current project so I can work from here. Maybe some…" he looks about, "extra blankets."

While Xavier wants nothing more than to sleep, to sit at the door to guard it, to keep watch. The fridge is empty, the bandages have run low, and he wants to look around the area. Wary, on edge. Worrying that Ever have lurked too close.

So he pushes himself up, removing himself from pillows that smell of you, and heads to the door too, "Grocery shop." He offers, through another yawn.

As people filter out, Zayne leans back into the sofa, before rising and heading over to the bedroom. Quiet and careful, he checks on his favourite patient. Though he desperately wishes he didn't need to be your doctor. Didn't need to stitch up torn skin, bandage wounds. Watch you suffer. It tugs at his heart, watching you force yourself ahead.

Rafayel was right. You'd never shown anything other than strength to them. Fighting through injuries, being reckless if it meant protecting others. Taking on mission after mission. He thinks the only time you've relied on them, is when there's no fight to be had.

Relaxing in your personal time, as rare as it is. He's seen you injured, of course, and at your checkups for your heart. But you've always met those with jokes that belittle the seriousness of the situation. A readiness to make light of pain. He has never seen you crumble, hurting and wounded. In a way you don't just bounce back from, because you can still fight injured.

As he strokes your head, gentle and careful not to wake you, he is both aching and relieved. That you'd finally lowered part of your mask, but that it took such pain to do so.

They've at least owned a door for you to step through, easier if someone is waiting on the other side…

Even if the most wanted man on earth had broken it open…

That's going to take some getting used to.

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2kiran · 2 years ago

Note

i hope your brain comes up with an idea for soap cuz my brain is EMPTY but i need that man crying and squirming from how good he feels:( I NEED TO EAT HIM OUT FOR HOURS AND TEASE HIS NIPPLES I CANT ARGHHH

꒦⁺ I WANNA F#CK, LIEUTENANT READER —— JOHN MACTAVISH

content ˖ ࣪ ˖ ftm soap (or cis), dom gn reader, sparring, lieutenant reader, implied taller reader, marking, superiority & humiliation kink, slight brat taming, overstim., oral sex, fingering, nipple play, modified 30/08/24

soap is becoming a little too stubborn for his own good.

You were growing more annoyed by the second.

For the past few weeks, Soap has been teasing you nonstop. Getting too close to you, performing suggestive acts in front of you, and whispering dirty words in your ear then pretending like nothing happened. He was practically eye fucking you with every chance he got.

Currently, he was sparring with you. He insisted because he wanted to train for ‘fun’ and he hasn’t in a long time, especially with you. Whenever he got to pin you down, he lay on top of you way too close. You’d feel his crotch on the lower part of your body.

“Ya already tired, lieutenant?” He teased, glaring at him in response as you drank water.

“‘Cause of you? I’m definitely not.” You wiped off your sweat from your forehead.

“Right, and yer definitely ain’t slackin’ off with me.” He retorted, wiping off his own sweat with the back of his hand.

“If I wasn’t, you’d be long knocked out, sarge.” You massage your sore neck, not reconsidering your words.

He laughed, “That a challenge?”

A newfound vigor stirred within you, “Sure is.”

With that, you both continued. He attempted to punch your chest, but you quickly dodged and kicked the small of his back. He groaned out, catching himself before he could hit the ground. He successfully landed a fist on your side, leaving you stumbling before punching his rib.

“Ow!” He winced, clutching the affected rib.

“Awh, did I hurt you?” You faked a sad pout.

He rolled his eyes at you, frowning, “Ah fuck off.”

You barked out a laugh, massaging your knuckles with your unharmed hand.

“This is over.” He sighed as he gripped the hem of his shirt, pulling it off. He caught you just slightly staring at him. “You like what you see?” He asked after a beat with a toothy grin.

“Absolutely not.” You eyed him, seeing a small bruise begin to form from where you hit him. “Sorry for your bruise.”

His eyes flashed with a wave of confusion before looking down at his torso, “Oh, that? Just a small one, and ‘s from you ‘nyway.” He winked.

Your eye twitched in irritation. “You tryna fuck with me, Soap?”

Oh shit. He gulped down water from his bottle, almost choking when you asked. He lightly coughed, “What’re ya talking ‘bout?” His eyes blinked, feigning innocence.

“Don’t do that.” You stalked closer to him.

“Don’t do what?” The corner of his mouth quirked up.

“Teasing me.” you replied, prowling forward. Seethe building in your throat.

Backing off, “But I’m not.” He was nearing the wall behind him with every step. “Oh yeah? Let’s not pretend you weren’t feeling me up.” His eyes widened a fraction as he felt his back meet the wall. “Must’ve been feelin’ things.” He muttered. You plant your hand next to his head, caging him in. “Quit lyin’ to me.” You trailed your free hand down, hovering right below his crotch.

“You’re already turned on, Soap.” You whisper directly into his ear. He can’t suppress the shiver, his hips lowering to your hand. You pull it away and you hear him stifle a whine.

“What’s got you acting like this?” You kiss the juncture where his neck and shoulder connects. “Wanted your attention.” He confesses, gasping as you sinked your teeth into his neck, sucking in a hickey. “Could’ve just asked, y’know?” You lick at the mark. “But there ain’t no fun in that.” He defends.

“If you weren’t gonna be this difficult, I would’ve been a lot nicer than I am now.” You hum, sucking at his collarbone and he squirms in your hold. “I like you like this.”

You raise an eyebrow at that. “You got a thing for marking?” You nip at the other one. “Only if it’s you.” his mouth curves into a smirk. “You’ve been such a brat, soap, I don’t think you deserve it.” you whisper against his flesh.

He whines, “C’mooon. Fuck me.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “I got a better idea.”

He frowns, watching you kneel in front of him. His eyes widen in surprise when he’s hit by realization. “What are you—?”

You cut him off, “Silence, sergeant. You don’t want anyone else hearing you, do you?”

His eyes squint in a glare. You kiss the inside of his thigh, so close to where he needs you the most. “Do you like fucking your superior?” you suddenly question, gripping his thigh to give you space in between his legs. “I...” he hesitates. “You what, hm? Fucking a superior and acting very inappropriate during meetings, missions... and much more than I could name. You’re the one being so unprofessional, always begging to be fucked.” the tip of his ears burned in humiliation, cheeks flushing and a whimper suppressed.

“Bet you like the idea of someone being stronger, having more power than you. You just won’t admit it. Moaning a ‘lieutenant’ every chance you get to be alone,” you bite into the meat of his scarred thigh, “is that why you asked to spar with me? So you could get off on my strength, Soap?”

His teeth nips into his bottom lip, “Maybe.”

Your tongue gently licks at the bite. You pull his sweatpants along with his boxers, revealing his wet core. “Used my fingers earlier.” He answered your silent question.

“So impatient.” you teased, circling your tongue around his hole as he let out a quiet moan. You press your lips near his hole, causing him to squirm against you in anticipation. He opened his mouth to say something, but you shove your tongue into him. “You’re—hngh! Oh fuckkk...” he gasps, retracting the pink muscle before you thrust it back in, setting a steady pace. You withdraw slowly, roughly rolling your tongue against his entrance. “Ah-mmmhf... hhnnngh... ‘m already close, fuckin’– ah!”

You curled your slick tongue inside of him, just barely grazing his sweet spot. Alongside it, you begin to push your fingers into him, getting him closer to the edge. “Shit—fuck–” he muttered curses in-between grunts, before warm liquid filled your mouth and cascaded on your fingers. He attempted to lift his trembling hips away, but you didn’t let him. “We’ve only just started.”

“C-can’t! I ca—ffuuuck... can’t anymore!” he cries out, his hands grabbing at your hair and at the wall. He didn’t want to actually stop, already shoving your face into him more. He was only embarrassed at the thought of you milking him dry. Fingers grazed at his sweet spot, driving him closer to one of his many orgasms. The both of you were glad that no one at this hour needed to use the training room because they would be shocked to find sergeant Mactavish as a whiny, little mess nearly sitting on your face.

You’ve been at it for hours. Yet, you never grew tired of him. You’ve already developed a sweet tooth for him.

“I-I’m! Pleaaaaaseee... ‘m gonna cuum, ngh!” he mewled, the grip of his hand tightening on your hair. Your face was soaked with his new wave of euphoria. As he was recovering from his climax, you stood up and he immediately snapped his head up to gaze at you. Hurriedly, you close the gap, kissing him before he could relish at the glimpse. He whines into your mouth, and you knew he could taste himself.

Catching him off guard, your fingers quickened inside of him. His arms wrapped around your neck, hips bucking down for more friction. With your free hand, you circled your thumb around his nipple before giving it a tight pinch. He squealed when you withdrew for air, mouth falling to greedily inhale.

You leaned down to lick at the other one, earning you a sharp tugged at your hair. “S-sensitive! ‘m sensiiiitive there, please...” he slurred in a way that was oh so whiny. “You said you wanted attention, so I’m giving every part of you mine.” He sobbed as you sucked on his nipple, teeth clashing against his skin while your other rubbed against it.

He was drooling, blabbering incoherent phrases as you took your time with him. “Take this as your punishment for being a brat.” You lightly bite the bud, causing him to gasp loudly. “Mhhmm...mhmm, ‘m sorry, I’ll be good.” His eyes leaked even more tears from the pleasure. His brain turned into complete mush, his only thought was you.

His flesh was littered with your bite marks, an evidence that this wasn’t a dream.

“Lieutenant....” his lips curve around a moan of your rank, “k-keep goin’.” He whimpers once more as you tease his sensitivem perky nipples. “You’re so insatiable.” You tease affectionately.

He abruptly came with a loud groan, clenching around you. “Ah—fuck!” Your fingers slowed as you felt his slickness coat your palm. “Came just from that?” you lean down, offering a chaste kiss to the bruise you gave him. “Sh-shut it. Let me take care of you now.” He insists, his hand finding your belt.

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gloomwitchwrites · 1 year ago

Text

Hand Necklace (1 of 4)

John "Soap" MacTavish x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: brief oral sex (female receiving), brief vaginal fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie / creampie eating, established relationship, homecoming sex, praise, safe choking, clit play

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

Soap loves a good hand necklace when he hits it from the back.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // hand necklace masterlist

Melting. Missing pieces. Lost. Together again.

That is how it always is. That is how you and John greet and depart. Every interaction is a molten chamber of lovely reunion, repeated in various and indiscriminate lengths of time. When John is gone, you are a jumbled mess, slowing sinking into the earth until he finds his way home to you. And then it is blissful. Complete. You are whole and no longer seeking the person you need to fill the absence.

“Come here, love,” murmurs John, his head rising from between your legs. His lips are glossy, chin drenched and dripping with you. “On your knees for me.”

It is easy to comply, to fold yourself in whatever way he wants. It is good to do so. Natural. Nothing makes you happier.

John’s hands are gentle as you twist onto your hands and knees. When he comes home, John loves putting you in this position. It gives him control, to set the pace, to remind himself that you alone belong to him.

“That’s it,” he purrs, dragging his hands up and down the length of your back only to squeeze and massage your hips and ass. “So fucking beautiful like this.”

Arching your back, you roll your hips, silently inviting John to do what it is you’re both seeking. He groans from somewhere behind you, the bed shifting under your knees as John takes position.

One of his hands resting on the curve of your hip disappears, only for the fingers to slide over your pussy, parting you as they make a v before John’s penetrates you with a single finger. Your pussy clenches around him as he sinks in to the knuckle.

“Gorgeous,” he says, pumping that finger. There is a brief pause, and then his tongue briefly toys with your clit, circling it in quick bursts until you’re spasming around his finger.

“Ready to take my cock?” You nod frantically, toes curling as his tongue teases you again. “Want that pretty voice to tell me.”

“I—fuck. Need your cock. Need you inside me.” It is a whimper. A plead. One that John is happy to fulfill.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he replies softly. His hand falls away, the absence of his finger leaving you hollow. But it is a flash of a moment before the head of his cock presses against your entrance.

You’re needy. Greedy. And you push back on him as he shallowly thrusts forward. John’s chuckle is low in his throat. As you take more and more of him, his hands wander upward, sliding over hip and waist to the curve of your shoulder. It is where he always starts.

As John’s hands come to the base of your throat, he thrusts forward, impaling you entirely on his cock.

“Fuck,” he groans, as his fingers lightly tease your neck, promising what is to come. Using the leverage he already has, John’s hold is stable, pumping into you with steady strokes. It’s a perfect rhythm, one that keeps you full.

But it’s not enough, and John knows this because it’s not nearly enough for him either. There needs to be a bit of domination here, one that will readily be flipped later when you mount him for your own pleasure. Right now, you’re submitting, eager for him to fuck you senseless.

Fingers slide upward, and then both of his hands are around your neck. John’s fingers intertwine, locking into place. He’s not squeezing. John is good at handling his strength in this situation.

“You smack my leg if it gets too much, yeah?”

“I will.”

It is all the confirmation John needs. He has your consent, a thing he asks for every time he comes home and fucks you like this.

The hands around your throat tightens enough to make your heart race but not to obstruct your breathing. Your body begins to tingle, the primal urge of danger roiling up from the recesses of your brain. You sink into the feeling, allowing it to spread throughout, knowing the orgasm to follow will be blinding.

Using only your throat as leverage, John starts to fuck you in earnest. He keeps you in place, unable to move much as he snaps his hips against you, his cock hitting so deep you can feel him in your stomach. All the control you have is in your hands, and how harshly you grip the sheets beneath you.

The sound of your bodies coming together over and over against is loud in the room, nearly swallowing up John’s soft grunts and your breathy little moans. You adore it when John comes home and uses you like this. It is not just the act, but the reunion of your bodies that brings all your missing pieces back into place.

You are whole and full and brand new when you present yourself to him.

John’s hands tighten around your throat a bit more as his pace increases, quickly turning into frantic, frenzied thrusts as he chases his end. Your breathing isn’t restricted, but you feel lighter, your body buzzing from the sheer power behind John’s touch.

Balancing on one hand and planting your knees firmly into the bed, you reach between your legs to play with your clit. It doesn’t take much, just a few gentle circles, and you’re crying out, clenching hard around John.

He groans, then slams his hips flush against yours, keeping still as you ride out your orgasm.

“Fucking hell,” he groans, mostly to himself and not to you or anything in particular. It is a victory to make him uncontrollable, to lose himself in your body.

The moment your pussy gives John some grace, he goes in, fucking you until only the tips of your fingers brush the bedding. It is John keeping you up, and this is where you always float until he finishes. It is brief. Temporary. All pleasure.

And then John chokes on his own breath, emptying inside you with throaty gasps of air.

Time pauses. Stretches. John slowly eases from your pussy and the loss is awful. You want him back, to fill you up and never make you feel empty. Only one of his hands disappears from your throat. The other slides to the front, grabbing hold.

John’s fingers part your sex again, making that v. His cum blooms at your entrance, starts to drip to your clit.

“Gorgeous,” murmurs John. The praise is a bolt of electricity or a shot of oxytocin.

John’s mouth comes down on your pussy to suck his cum out. The suction makes your thighs quiver, and then John is pulling away, using his hand on your throat to bend you back enough to look at him.

No words need to be said. You open your mouth obediently and John connects to you, pushing all the cum past your lips and down your throat. Greedily, you swallow it up, tasting the mix of you and him.

Melted. Reformed. Together again.

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @pearljamislife @wrathofcats @keiva1000 @pertinentpostmortem @enfppixie @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics

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gremlingottoosilly · 1 year ago

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does monsters(141, König or Horangi)would ever be interested on their pets toughts? Like their hobbies or thier favorit color and all that stuff 👀

Oh, monster!141 would generally LOVE to have their pet yapping about their hobbies all of the time. Out of all monsters I write for, they are the easiest to live with - if you're not counting the endless sex sessions, of course. If you do have energy to mew about crocheting or video games or literally anything you're interested in, Soap would like to indulge you! He never shuts up when you're with him, always ready for some jokes and banter - and if you say that you like to do something, for example, doing jigsaw puzzles or building legos, he will tear down any abandoned shop to get them for you. He would love to indulge in active hobbies too! But if you like more calm things, he would easily get bored while watching you and would want to fuck you eventually( horny dog(( Gaz is the most stalker-like. He listens to everything you say, and you know that he knows because he literally keeps a journal. This observant and obsessive birdie loves to use information against you - or for you, when he especially brings you jewelry with stones of your favorite colour, for example. He wants to be your favorite, so you can always ask him for things and just yap about things that you like - and be sure that, for a "small" favor, you'd have it given to you the next day. It is still easier than going to Soap because Gaz has the common courtesy of not fucking you while you're drawing or reading. He has a barter system with you - you know that for the newest lego set, he would give you some time to build it and some time for himself to fuck you after. Price is slightly more complicated. Out of everyone, he treats you like a breeder the most - so if you're becoming too energetic for his liking, he would shut you up with making you choke on his cock until you don't want to talk about your favorite musician anymore( he is an old man who needs his bear cubs delivered as swiftly as possible, and he doesn't have much time for anything else. He would indulge in your silent hobbies, let you just spend time with him, warming up his cock while you're struggling while finding puzzle pieces. Don't me mad at him, this man is still struggling not to treat you like a mindless pet...even though you are kinda one.

And Ghost is weirdest of them all. You think he don't even listen to you, but you couldn't be more wrong. This man is troubled and jaded, but he loves to hear your voice - and he sleeps(as much as he can in his state anyway) while listening to you. He is surprisingly observant of your favorite things, even though he doesn't really use it - just sometimes would mention it in a conversation when you already forgot that you basically told this man the whole story of your life while holding him against your chest.

#cod #cod x reader #yandere cod #monster!soap #monster!ghost #monster!gaz #monster!price #price x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #gaz x reader #monster!141

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rookiesbookies · 1 year ago

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Pregnant brat reader here with a sfw req this time with the same cod men from before bc that was scrumptious

The men are in the nursery, cradling their newborn to soothe them. Reader walks behind them, kissing their cheek (or wherever she can reach) and she whispers “I just fell in love with you all over again.”

Can you tell I have severe baby fever atm

Oh its ok I get baby fever too. If I wasn’t still too young and trying to get a degree first, oh boy. I also get it every time I look at Neil Ellice’s face (Soap’s va/reference).

Lowkey you’re making me fall more in love with these boys, hope this is all you hoped for my loving anon.

To all my readers and anons- Keep requesting this account is my hobby LMAO

Price

Price is already softly crying but now you’ve made this man want to sob. He puts the baby down since it’s late, poor thing basically just got cleared to go home.

He kneels by the crib, finger still in the baby’s grasp as it sleeps and Price is just done for. He’s doing everything possible not to wake this baby. He’s so grateful he got this chance, and he’s not going to waste it.

Now Price is going to need soothing because his heart can’t take this moment. His hand is over his mouth to help him choke down sobs. Just you and him and now the kid he always dreamed of? He’s going to be the best dad and there’s nothing that can stop him.

Soap

It’s crazy how forgetting to put on a condom once can change your whole life.

He immediately plants a kiss back on your head, telling you to go get rest. He’s going to spend the first months of this baby’s life sleeping in the room with it. The faintest cry or struggle has him up. He’s already got it all planned.

Never going to make this life feel like an accident, no this child is an accomplishment of good sex and a wonderful choice to keep it. Maybe it wasn’t an accident after all, maybe it was meant to be.

He mumbles all kinds of thanks to the universe. He’s already named Simon and the rest of the 141 the godfathers, he couldn’t stop making mafia jokes. But now he has no jokes or witty comments, just love for his wife and his baby.

Ghost

Simon is scared shitless.

He lost his last family, he can’t lose this one too. He’s already updated the house’s security. But maybe he should upgrade it more. There’s so much more he can do, he can feel his heart rate rising.

He mumbled endless promises of safety. You have to remind him the live in the moment, that those are all things that he can do tomorrow.

Thats when he starts to get emotional. You can see it in how he squints before he pulled off his baklava.

This is one of two days that’s proven Simon Riley still exists somewhere in Ghost. This proves that Simon Riley didn’t die. This proves what Price told you when you married him, that Ghost was a fortress built to protect Simon.

Gaz

He’s been crying since the baby was born. It’s not sobs but to him this child is the ultimate testimony of your love. Of your marriage even. He still doesn’t believe it. His world now revolves around this baby.

He still doesn’t believe its his child. Sure it looks like him but would an angel like you truly grace him with this? After all the terrible things he’s done and seen in the midst of battle?

He plants a kiss right back, running his thumb over the cheek of the baby. He knows he has to put it to bed but can't he hold his kid a little longer?

He may just stay here, just for one night. Just with his kid. He has so many stories to tell. He has to introduce the baby to his team and his family.

He knows he has to wait, but he cant help it.

Konig

He still doesn’t believe it. His anxiety tells him it’s a trap set by the enemy, that he couldn’t be loved, that a woman wouldn’t want to have his offspring.

But that all melts away when he turns to see you. He’s holding a baby he was surprised your body could push out, he knows this child is his without a doubt because of its sheer size and weight.

He places fluttering kisses all over your face.

He mentions keeping the baby in your shared room, just so he can keep an eye on it he swears. Oh he promises it won’t disturb you he swears.

It wasn’t even an option to tell him no, he was already carrying the baby in on arm with a secure hold and the crib in another. He hasn’t taken his eyes off your baby for even a second and getting him to sleep will be another struggle.

Krueger

Sebastian isn’t crying, you’re crying. What do you mean there’s tears coming down his face? No, that's sweat, it’s really warm.

He never needed you to tell him you loved him at the start, but when you started to he realized his heart wasn’t made of stone after all.

Now he’s holding this little creature thats half you and half him and he’s just breaking down.

This is a second chance at life for him and he swears he’s going to do better than he started off with.

In your eyes, this murderer looks like an angel with the light seeping softly through the windows against him as he holds your sweet baby.

For the first time in a long time, he prays. He prays to not mess up and for protection for his family. Its soft, under his breath and you would barely hear it, but he prays.

Keegan

When the baby was born the whole team of ghosts showed up. It was a moment of pride.

He turns to kiss your lips right back as he walks over to the rocking chair. Oh he could get the baby a little mask and armor. Could be a mini ghost.

The team fell straight in love but none could love this baby more than Keegan.

And how he looks at you? Its like you hung the stars… which you did help him do, there’s lots of stars hanging from the nursery ceiling, but you gave him a baby. He would trade the sun for his little family, unafraid of turning nocturnal if it meant keeping this moment.

He mumbled about this meaning worth all the fighting. Promises to always come home falling from his mouth so easily.

Edit: im dropping this incase you havent seen it tol

Masterlist is pinned on profile as always, don’t forget to leave me a comment or a request in my inbox to let me know what yall want to see!

#cod x reader #call of duty #captain price #captain john price x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #soap mactavish #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #konig x reader #konig call of duty #sebastian krueger x reader #cod krueger #keegan russ x reader #keegan p russ

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miniwheat77 · 2 years ago

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Mean!141 + König.

I read this blurb of König being mean to reader while fucking her and now I’m running with it.

!CW! NSFW, Smut, slight dark themes, overstimulation, spanking, cockwarming, blackmail, cnc, non-con, coercion, oral sex, unprotected p in v sex, sorry if I missed any

König:

“So pathetic.” He breathes. His hips are hammering into yours, the edge of the desk is digging into your hips and you’re crying. He’s stretching your pussy out, the sheer size of him was too much, he smirked when he seen your eyes widen at seeing him, and now. Body lurching forward with every hard thrust he takes into you, allowing you to cry out. He doesn’t care who hears. He doesn’t care who comes in and sees you split on his cock. Crying for him. He’s got both of your hands behind your back. Holding them there with one hand. The other abusing you in other ways. Pinching your nipples, rubbing your sensitive nub, slapping your ass. Anything to hear you crying for him. He takes a tight grip on both of your wrists, holding you tightly as he fucks into you. “You won’t disobey me again.” He growls. “Say it- erbärmliche Heulsuse.” His hand clapping against your ass has you crying out again. “I won’t disobey you again König!” You cry. “Wrong.” He growls. You lurch forward at his abuse, hand slapping your ass again. “I won’t disobey you a-again Colonel König- I won’t!” You cry.

He grasps a handful of your hair, pulling you back into him. “Now cum.” He growls. His warm breath against your ear. So you do, with a cry, leaking around his cock. Fluids mixing with his. He cums with an animalistic growl. Filling you to the hilt with his cum. When his thrust finally halt, he holds you still, cock still buried deep inside of you. He loves cockwarming, and you’ll obey him. He loves the way you cry. “You’ll be back tomorrow after chores.” He growls. You nod your head. “Yes sir.” You pant. He slides out of you, a gasp leaving your lips as you feel him spilling back out of you. You know better than to move away, knowing how much he loves to watch his seed leak down your thighs. He redresses himself, standing behind you with a stern glare, arms crossed over his chest. Admiring your bare ass as you lean over the desk. His slick still wet between your thighs. “Stand up, turn around.” He growls. You do, turning to look at him. He grasps your chin, kissing you hard. It’s sloppy and he can still feel your drool from him fucking you dumb. “Get dressed, you’re excused.” You nod your head. Reaching for your clothes.

Soap:

The deep chuckle that leaves his lips sends shivers down your spine. He’s tormenting you and you hate it. “Oh come on, pouting now?” He rolls his eyes. “You need my help with the Humvee, I want something out of it.” He looks over at you. He told your Captain that he was just showing you the ropes with the Humvee, you were newer than everyone else, he was helping. That’s all. Oh how wrong your Captain was to let you go with him alone. “Soap- not like this.” You grit your teeth, tears filling your eyes. “You’re driving us back, and you’re not going to tip one thing over while doing it. Or I’ll tell Captain.” He smiles. “No!” You cry. You get so frustrated so easily. He laughs, still taunting you. He’s just being mean, making fun of you. “Than you know what I want.” He smirks. “Oh come on, you’re being such a bad girl right now. Do you want me to tell Captain Price just how bad you’ve been?” He’s reaching across the seat, hand gliding over your thigh. “Back talking me when I’m just trying to teach you, disobey me.” He clicks his tongue. You stay silent, avoiding his gaze. He starts the Humvee, and you jump. “No! Okay- I’ll do it.” You breathe, “that’s a good girl, now get in the back seat.” He smirks.

A few minutes later, he’s pounding you. He’s already made you choke on his cock, making fun of you and taunting you the entire time. Belittling you until you were sobbing, now, he’s fucking you into the window. Your face is up against it. Your hands are clutching onto the seats of the Humvee, you’re crying and drooling, pussy soaked. “Why are you crying hm? Just give into the way my cock makes you feel.” He clutches. “Please- can I ride you? You’re being too rough!” You whimper. He laughs at you, taking a few more deep thrusts into you before finally letting up, sitting in the seat and letting you climb on top of him. “You like my cock baby?” He looks up at you. Wiping your tears away for you. You nod your head, sliding down onto him and lifting your hips up. You’re holding onto the back of the seat, using it to help lift yourself up. He groans out. “Yes- you’re just too rough.” You whimper. “You’ll learn to take it rough, don’t worry.” He smirks. “You’ll learn to be my perfect little fuck toy, won’t you?” He smiles. He grasps your hips, starting to thrust up into you. You start squirming and crying. “Such a fucking crybaby.” He rolls his eyes. “You’ll take my cock however I want to give it to you, and you’re going to thank me. No more complaining.” His hand claps against your ass, making you cry out. “Thank me.” He growls. “Thank me for my cock.” He growls, thrusting up into you harder. “Thank you for your cock Johnny- thank you thank you-“ you’re chanting it, tears spilling from your eyes. “Good girl. Such a quick learner.” He smirks.

Captain Price:

Captain Price was always so mean. Even since you first joined the taskforce. His punishments were always rough. Getting sprayed with ice cold water, making the entire task force do laps for your mistakes. You walked on eggshells around Captain Price and even the entire task force knew it. One day though, that all changed. He started being nice to you, at least that’s what they thought anyways. He was nice and kind and never punished you. What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them though. Because late at night. When you’re laying on your stomach and he’s fucking into you from behind, his body weight forcing you down. The first time it happened, it was the heat of the moment. You kissed him in anger, apologized profusely. He was angry with you, livid even. He was your Captain, you could get him into trouble. He didn’t realize it until you pissed him off the next time around, that this could be your new punishment. So to everyone else, he looked kind. But in private. In his room alone late at night. They had no idea.

Since you’d had a crush on him before, he caught on pretty quickly. He was already mean but in bed he was just a bully. Talking down at you until you were sobbing into his hand as he fucked into you. You did anything he told you too. Let him fuck you any way he wanted to. He’s pushing your face into the mattress with a handful of your hair, hips clapping against yours, but your sounds were muffled by the mattress. “Such a bad fucking girl-“ he groans, tilting his head back. “I know you like this. Know you like being degraded by me.” He chuckles. Your cheeks are burning but he can’t see it. “Always get so fucking wet when I’m mean to you, my dumb little crybaby.” He smirks. “Got to give you the benefit of the doubt though, even though that’s not what you want. This fucking pussy is so sweet and tight.” He growls. “How am I supposed to teach you a lesson when you love your punishment huh? You want me to stop fucking you, little crybaby?” He chuckles, lowering himself. His chest was up against your back, and he can hear your shallow breaths. You’re crying. He tugs your head back by your hair, a cry leaving your lips. “You want me to stop?” He growls. “No- no! Please-“ you gasp. “Please don’t stop fucking me Captain Price. I’ll be a good girl from now on, I promise. P-please don’t stop.” He’s smiling. You’ve done so good, maybe he’ll even let you finish. He’s got you right where he wants you. Beneath him.

Ghost:

Ghost is by far the meanest, especially when it came to you fucking up. You found that out the hard way when the two of you were alone on a mission together and you did something risky, something that could’ve gotten yourself killed. He was furious. You didn’t even get a chance to explain yourself before he was shoving you back into the brick wall behind you. He was yelling, and when you started crying, he froze up. His eyes darkened, face was stone cold. He walked away from you mid-sentence. You didn’t understand why. You were alone in the showers, and when you heard the door open you expected another girl, but it quickly set in that you were the only girl on base. When you looked up and seen him approaching you. Massive man with a skull mask on. You were intimidated. He pushes you back into the small lockers for your items and you made an attempt at covering up your naked body but he pushed your hands away. He had your face pressed up against the lockers in no time as he hammered his hips into yours, the completely lewd sounds being made should’ve been what was egging him on, but it wasn’t.

It was your cries, he loved hearing them. He hated to admit it but he loved seeing you cry, and now. Crying out of pleasure, crying because of him overwhelming you. It was pure bliss. His fingertips will surely leave bruises, your body will show the aftermath of Ghost for at least a week. He’s doing everything he can to hear those pretty sobs, and he’s so mean. Such a bully. He’s bullying your nipples and sensitive clit, overstimulating you so that he can hear those pretty cries even if you’re telling him that it’s too much. You can take it, he reassures you that you can. “Ah! Simon please-“ you tilt your head back. He inhales the scent of your hair, fingertips rubbing furiously at your clit. “You can take it. We both know you can.” He breathes. “This is what you get for being such a stupid girl, putting yourself in danger like you did.” He clicks his tongue, tight grip on your hips, one of your legs raised slightly as he had the perfect angle to fuck into you. When he spins you around, pushing his mask up to the bridge of his nose, taking your nipple into his mouth and being so mean. Bullying your poor sensitive nipple and sucking it until it’s swollen and red and you’re crying so much. When he cums, it’s a little unexpected. But it’s the perfect amount of time for you to let out the perfect mewl. Finishing around his cock. He can’t help but pinch your nipples between his fingers, fucking you through your orgasm. He overstimulates himself in the process but he’d do anything to hear you cry. Anything.

Gaz:

Since Gaz was the closest to your age, he knew exactly what to say to get under your skin. He reminded you a lot of a high school bully. When you first joined the task force, he harassed you constantly. You were quiet, never talked back. You took his harassment. It went on for months and months. It was annoying and he was just a jerk, a bully. One day during dinner in the mess hall he said something and set you off, and you finally fired back at him. You embarrassed him a little bit in front of the other members which pissed him off. You stood up and hurried off to your room, mad and upset. He rolled his eyes, told a lie about how he was going to go after you to apologize. He went after you but for not the reasons he said. He barged his way into your room, locking the door behind him. In no time he had you sprawled out on your bed, bullying your pussy with his tongue and fingers. He was edging you until you couldn’t handle anymore, crying. He told you to cry into the pillow, but you were being loud, which only made him meaner. He was growing annoyed with you being so loud, pushing the pillow into your face more as he nudges your clit with his nose, abusing your pussy even further. “You’ll learn not to talk back to me, you fucking crybaby.” He growls.

He pulls you close to him, forcing you to lay on your stomach. “Put your face into the pillow, if I hear one cry from you that isn’t muffled, you won’t get to cum.” He growls. You nod your head, gasping into the pillow when he thrusts inside of you. He was huge and you weren’t ready for him at all. “Just cry into the pillow sweetheart, be a good girl for me and I’ll make you cum.” He pants. Your bed is only squeaking a little bit, thank god. But he’s not really making any attempts at being quiet. His groans are loud and even though your cries are muffled, they’re still audible. You’re clutching the sheets so hard and he can’t help but smile. You were being so good, he wants to praise you. But he knows you like it. You like when he picks on you. The tip of his cock bullies it’s way through your folds, nudging up against your cervix and he’s getting close. “Kyle?” You whimper. You look back at him, teary eyes and messy hair. He nearly busts right there. “Yeah honey?” He groans. “I’m close” you whimper. He smirks. “You can cum. Since you’ve been so good.” He breathes. He continues thrusting into you, covering your mouth with his hand because he knows the pillow won’t help. Your scream is muffled when you finally cum on his cock. Tightening down around him so perfectly. “Oh fuck- fuck I’m going to cum so fucking deep in this pussy.” He groans, his voice is unsteady and desperate and a growl leaves his lips when he finishes. “You’ll learn to be a good girl for me.” He mumbles into your ear, cock still buried inside of you.

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut #könig modern warfare #könig x you #könig cod #könig smut #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick #gaz cod #ghost cod

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zvdvdlvr · 2 years ago

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Hi there, friend . Please write if you have time a Soap, Ghost, Price, Alejandro, and Konig headcanons about a male partner with really big veiny hands.Hope you have a pleasent day or night .

- 141, alejandro, and könig with a male partner with large hands

☆ - warnings :: some nsfw topics, coarse language, neck snapping, features sub!könig, usual call of duty violence, male reader, short HCs,

☆ - characters :: john "soap" mactavish, simon "ghost" riley, captain john "bravo six" price, alejandro vargas, könig

☆ - k.j.'s diary says... i haven't written for CoD that much so i apologize for any inaccuracies or any out of character-ness.

kyle "gaz" garrick

SLUT ME OUT, SLUT ME OUT, SLUT-SLUT-SLUT ME OUT

bro was flabberghasted when he saw you gloveless- like, yes, he knows your hands are huge because of how easily you handle massive weapons but god almighty kyle almost started drooling when he saw you flex your hand while stretching your arm

silently admires the way you move in battle, your melee attacks, hand-to-hand, etc.

when you are dating, gaz for sure hints at his attraction to your hands if that wasn't obvious

gets turned on when you pin him to the ground while sparring and it shows

goes off on tangents about your hands when drunk

"they just- *hiccup* -they look so good, y'know? they'd look really nice around my ne-neck" (bro was passed out not even half an hour after saying this)

simon "ghost" riley

encourages you to snap someone's neck while out on the field

"christ, y/l/n" ghost (the first time he saw you do that

was drinking tea the first time he got a hood look at your bare hands

needless to say, tea was spilled in simon's lap

when you're together simon would come up with all these bullshit reasons to see your bare hands

not really into being choked, but would love watching you choke someone out

would ask you if you could choke-slam people

the answer was yes

simon loves being flipped off by you idk he thinks its hot

i like to think that while off duty simon can be a little bitch sometimes so whenever he turns around to go sulk he LOVES when you grab onto his belt loop or whatever and turn his ass around

captain john "bravo six" price

tried to keep his cool

also kept really quiet about his feelings

quiet.

loves holding your hand when off duty

so let's say price is the typa guy to enjoy back hugs? even better when he looks down to see your hands wrapped around his middle

has you demonstrate ways to snap/break necks to the newbies while watching with absolute adoration

did i mention price loves hand holding? i did? ok well just reminding you

u dont have to have big hands to know john loves kissing you with one of your hands in his hair and another tugging his belt loop so he's closer to you. hawt.

john "soap" mactavish

smiles widely while watching you snap someone's neck like it's nothing

doesn't even care if you choke him out if you did at least it's by your hands

choking kink question mark exclamation point

loves getting neck/upper back massages (non sexually you pervs) especially after a long day

a true simp.

will praise you till the end of time no matter how many war crimes you commit on the field

johnny likes when you help him trim/maintain his hair

it's such an intimate thing for him and the fact that you're helping take care of something so personal to johnny makes his heart swell

alejandro vargas.

will absolutely bring attention to the fact that your hands are massive

wolf whistles, even.

alejandro thinks it's the greatest thing ever making you flush

absolutely gushes to rudy about it

ok so now ur in a relationship:

ONE TIME alejandro was getting a bit too big for his britches so you stalked up to him and grasped his neck lightly. (if ur taller than him is what im imagining but wtv) ale was turned on

always wants to be touching you or you touching him

when he has free time he'll come find you, cuddle, play with your fingers while tou watch a movie or something

thinks about you jerking him off when you're both in a meeting or in a semi-public space

practically sings praises about how he loveloveloves your hands

könig

ok if your hands are larger than his than yes bro would pass tf out when he realized

would be very quiet about his attraction to your hands but his obvious staring spoke volumes

would immediately want to be slutted out when you had sex with him

plays with your hands when he's bored or really anxious

REALLY into you holding him by his neck and showing you how much he wants to be taken care of

loves when you tend to any sore muscles or wounds

honestly könig wants a simple, domestic life with all of the things hes seen

HAND HOLDING IS A MUST‼

watches you disassemble, clean, and reassemble guns like you didn't have ur fingers in his mouth the night before with a lopsided smile

you both spar together, learning from each other and being the duo that no other trio or group want to fight

together, you both are unstoppable. the admiration and personal connection you both have baffles many

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