#Sobieslaw Kościuszko

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Cod - Teaching you their language

Requested: No

Warnings: ✨Spice✨, slight Angst, Reader doesn’t speak the character’s language

König

König is a patient teacher and also quite a bit excitable when it comes to the topic of his language. He’d love nothing more than to speak to someone else in his mother tongue, as it is less nerve wracking for him than trying to carefully pronounce things in English. He’s really good at answering any questions you have, and is gentle when he corrects your pronunciations or words you’ve mixed up. That being said, because he’s so excited, he sometimes forgets that you can’t speak the language as well as him, so he’ll go on long rants or explanations in Austrian-German without realizing it until he waits for an answer from you and you just stare at him blankly.

Krueger

Krueger is much less patient than König and he’s also less excited. It’s been a long time since he’s spoken to anyone in his language, and he’s constantly insecure about how his accent has been changed over the years, and he’s constantly doubting if he’s even speaking the language right, even if it’s his own mother tongue. But once you two really start to make some progress he’s much more relaxed, and even finds it a bit soothing to be able to speak like this with someone again. He’s not the most patient teacher with you but he’s not the worst either. Some days are worse than others but that’s mostly due to his own stresses and for reasons already listed above.

Alejandro

Alejandro is SO glad you asked. You can’t tell exactly what’s on his mind but what you can tell is that it’s something devious, if the smirk on his face is anything to go by. He takes great joy in focusing on anatomy first and foremost, taking a marker to you, writing down pure filth on your skin, words like “*Propiedad de Alejandro” and “*Tócame” and “*Mía/Mío”, sucking and nipping at whatever correlates to the words that you manage to pronounce at least semi correctly. Of course he’ll teach you things beyond that but he’s just really excited to use this to his advantage. He may or may not have had this exact scenario as a fantasy for a while now.

Roach

Roach is happy to teach you BSL! Sure he can speak at times but it takes a lot of effort and it makes him uncomfortable, and it takes forever for anyone to figure out what he wants through vague gestures and charades. Not to say that moments like those can’t be funny but you get sick of them rather quickly when it happens so much. He’ll probably start by teaching you the alphabet hand signs and some simple words finger spelling, along with his name. (Which you later find out is not him signing Gary, but Roach.) He’ll even teach you some of his personal signs, like the ones he made for his teammates and that they’ve all vaguely come to recognize as them. You learn that yours in particular is actually the sign for Bug, what once was his secret nickname for you but that he’s kind of happy you now know, if only to see your smile whenever he uses it.

Gromsko

Gromsko, much like Alejandro, used this opportunity to his advantage. Except in a bit of a different way. He’ll be edging you throughout your “lessons”, cooing in your ear as you struggle to even read what he’s written down for you to practice, your legs trembling as he fingers you. If you get it right? He goes faster, hitting just the right spots. If you get it wrong, he stops completely, taking enjoyment in how you sob with dismay, pressing kisses to your shoulders as he whispers to you. “Shhh, *Kochanie. It’s okay. Try again.” He’ll tell you, a smile on his face that looked almost deceivingly innocent.

*Propiedad de Alejandro = Property of Alejandro

*Tócame = Touch me

*Mía/Mío = Mine

*Kochanie = Sweetheart

[shadow0-1]

Request for Haff

[whisperingexecutioner]

*background grumbling in Polish* X'D

"Gromsko"

I don't really like it, but let it be🤕

[yooo-lets-go]

Kościuszko

Potrzebuje więcej kościuszko

Blagam powiedz że masz więcej kościuszko pls twój art jest zajebisty i szczeże wciągnął mnie spowrotem w cod. Podziwiam to co robisz

Jesteś najlepszx byku trzymaj tak dalej❤️❤️❤️

Polska górą 🔥🔥🔥🇵🇱🇵🇱🇵🇱

[faulterge1st]

Doing it to Compensate (Not Love)

Now, I don't usually do this, but I wrote a really rough ficlet for any Call of Duty character x reader with a dash of rivals to lovers (younger reader is heavily implied)

It was written with Horangi in mind (blatant favoritism), but you could imagine this with any character in COD that fits the mindset

I don't want it to rot in my documents, so here u go

He resented you, he hated how stubborn you were about how you were right.

He hated how you would preach how much better you were than him at a certain skill, even if he was superior to you in rank. He hated how you would smirk everytime you saw him miss the bullseye during gun training. He hated how you would roll your eyes at him at every terrible unhealthy choice he made during meals, judging his barely sustainable appetite despite you having the oddest cravings he had seen. He despised you, absolutely detested your attitude.

But ever since that day, ever since you clung to him with heavy breaths in need of assistance, he just couldn't help but find you absolutely gorgeous. This was the first time you ever depended on him for anything, gripping his shoulder like he was the only thing that could save you.

He could remember the image of you covered in mud, your untrained fingers coated in your own blood while his rougher hands held your wound closed. It wasn't a pleasant sight, in fact, it was disturbing. But to him? He saw your defeated image as a portrait of a sorrowful martyr painted by a historic romantic, a tragedy cursed by the heavens.

He felt an unfound pity and worry seeing you like this. You were confident, believing in an ability you haven't fully mastered could help you defend in battle, but here you were, met with the reality of war. In that moment, he had just realized how important you were to him, how your confidence didn't make up in your lack of skill. Sure, he enjoyed making you groan in contempt everytime he commented on how much of an amateur you were if you missed a chance to kick him during sparring or how you were a terrible soldier if you missed a practice target just by a centimeter, but those times were accompanied by mischievous grins and amused smirks. They were all in good fun. You genuinely suffering? It wasn't any fun for him. He couldn't handle seeing you hunched over, leaning on his shoulder over a wound that could've taken your life. He just couldn't bear the thought of you being taken from him.

Since that day, he realized that for all the teasing and snarky comments made from good intentions, he'd make it up to you now just by making your life easier.

Ever since that day, he chose to make you your coffee, no matter how painfully sweet or disgustingly bitter it was. He chose to give you a pat on the shoulder every time you shot a straight bullseye, and chose to praise your efforts everytime you sent him flying back on his arse during training. You deserved it. He just couldn't go back to treating you like shit after that day, because it made him realize how he could lose you at any moment. He didn't want the last words he ever told to you to be a criticism of your skills or a sarcastic judgement of how your inexperience made him better than you. He had to make it special, because he loved you.

But he sure as hell will never tell you that. Instead, he'll tell you that you are a valued soldier, that losing you would be detrimental to the team. He would place his hands on your hand, your shoulder, or any place on your body that was subtle enough that you couldn't realize what he was truly feeling. It didn't carry his devotion nor his loyalty to you. It didn't send the message of how much he cared. But, it will always be close enough to an "I love you" that he could ever manage to tell you.

[soullessentity]

I Love How Expressive They Are Lol

Ghost: Oh God. Not Another Explosive Gremlin...💀

Soap: I Think I Just Fell In Love 😍

Gromsko: 😈 🇵🇱 💥

first time making something like an animatic, was very interesting and fun (it took me at least 30-40 hours please send help /j)

IB this art from @yooo-lets-go!

[vxmpyree]

YOU LIKE GROMSKO TOO?! automatic follow, what.

soooo... can i ask for Gromsko who's all too in love with his partner, but doesn't really know how to express his feelings so he's all cuddly but can't ask for anything, giving the most subtle hints for love and shiii

UGH i love this man.

gromsko wants flowers.

no, really, he does. he hasn't said a peep about wanting you to head down to the floral shop, but when he sees pretty petals and neatly trimmed stems in passing, he'll comment. poppies remind me of home. some new color would look nice in our house, eh?

he just can't talk to you. your efforts to cultivate this warm, dim place for him to relax and sleep in are working, yes, but it's taking ages to shave down the iron walls he's put up. there's a barrier between the two of you that he just can't lower.

he'd like to tell you about how he feels, about how you make his heart squeeze in his ribs and sweat dribble down his brow. but he can't--

gromsko holds you close at night, as tight as either of you can bear. his thick forearms squeeze your waist and belly like a snug seatbelt, keeping you in place. he doesn't want you running off or leaving him for someone who can say what they want.

he traces all the little things he wants to say into the flesh of your hip. maybe one day.

[decaf-mother]

Just currently imagining how the different COD guys would react if they walked in the bathroom to do something while you're in the shower only to see that your shower curtain is completely clear.

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Monster!Reader (Part 3)

Requested: No

Warnings: Some traditionally female creatures but they are written as GN, one mention of Reader in a dress, some ✨spice✨

Krueger - Hulder/Huldrekall

The village was quiet tonight. Quiet was something that Krueger enjoyed, hence why he had chosen such a scarcely populated area to make his home in. It didn’t matter that the villagers didn’t like having a new neighbor or that they shunned him, charged him extra for whatever wares he needed from the shops. He’d gladly ignore their glares and pay double for everything if it meant he kept his peace and quiet. Though sometimes he would get the occasional prankster teen who thought it would be funny to fuck with the out of towner, he had quickly dealt with them by the fifth time they came onto his property. Making them clean the broken eggs off his porch with their tongue, shell and all, his boot on the back of their head, their faces creaking against the hardwood as they cried for mercy. He was quite merciful in his own opinion. He’d killed people for less.

So he was shunned and avoided but that worked just fine for him. And he sat on his porch at night and enjoyed the quiet, a mug full of vodka in his hands as he just relaxed. Until it was interrupted one night by the sight of something poking it’s head out of the forest surrounding his home, peering at him curiously. He narrowed his eyes at it, at you, body tense but eventually relaxing when several moments passed and you seemed to not want to make any moves. You could stare all you liked, he’d leave you be as long as you kept your distance.

But then…..you beckoned him the next time he turned to look at you. And maybe it was the liquid courage clouding his judgment but he couldn’t help but follow you, amused by your giggles of enjoyment as he chased you through the woods, his breath catching in his throat everytime he passed you and saw that you were actually naked. It took almost all night before he actually caught you, growling and halfway feral as he flipped you onto your belly under him. He only noticed something was off when he yanked your hips up, hands pulling apart your ass cheeks to get a good look at you down below. And then your tail smacked against his hand, making him jump in surprise. A further look up showed that your back was…..opened up and hollowed out, revealing your beating heart. He wasn’t sure how you were even alive in this moment, let alone purring under him like a cat.

He decided he could figure it out later. When it wasn’t almost 6 in the morning with his cock aching and oozing precum in his pants.

Gromsko - Morowa dziewica

Gromsko was a man who experienced sickness almost all his life. His parents had both died of it and his younger sister was weak and sickly almost her entire life, even as a young toddler. It had distressed his family greatly and they struggled to pay for the hospital bills. Doubling up on jobs just to try and make ends meet. Throughout it all he never seemed to even get a cold, let alone anything serious. It was something his parents were extremely grateful for. That being said, he had a soft spot for sick people, just because they reminded him of his family. And seeing them suffering hurt him.

So seeing you, in your pretty white dress, coughing into what looked to be a rag the color of blood, being shunned and avoided as you begged for some help carrying your bag. In literal tears as you told them that you were in pain, that you physically couldn’t lift it any longer. Well, it upset him. If his sister was ignored like that, in that much pain, he’s sure that he’d kill somebody. So he didn’t hesitate to offer his help, lifting your bag with one hand and heaving it onto his shoulder, insisting that it was no problem when you started thanking him profusely. It actually wasn’t that heavy at all. Almost felt like there was actually nothing in it and he’d admit to being just a little curious on how something was so light but he didn’t want to ask you in case it was something you weren’t comfortable talking about.

And when he arrived in front of what you said was your home, he was more than a little concerned. It was more like a shack, run down and crumbling. Doubtful it was warm, especially when it was the middle of winter. But he didn’t get the chance to say anything as you smiled at him, cupping his face before dragging him forward to place a soft kiss on his forehead. It was hot, the warmth of it spreading from his head all the way down to his toes. Like the nicest fuzziest blanket he’d ever touched. He didn’t even notice you taking your bag back from him until you patted his cheek.

“Thank you, Sweet Boy.” You said, and there was something cold in your voice. Something a bit hollow and sad. “You best get home now, yes? Maybe stay inside for a little bit.”

He couldn’t find himself capable of doing anything but nodding, watching you turn from him and walk into the rundown shack, the door slamming shut behind you so loudly that it seemed like it shook the very ground around him.

Graves - Merperson

Graves hated the ocean. Always had, ever since he was a young boy and his grandpa would drag him out to the beach and toss him in as far as he could throw him then tell him to swim back on his own. He hated the way he couldn’t see in it, how anything could sneak up on him and take a bite. It made him anxious. Like something was just beneath the waves, watching him, waiting for him to let his guard down just so it could eat him.

As he grew, his fear of the sea lessened but never entirely went away. Which is why he was hesitant to get on the boat that would take him to his next assignment. And it wasn’t just his normal fear either. Today felt….different. Something in his gut yelling at him to not go. But he brushed it away, stepping onto the boat despite that trepidation. Over 3 whole days later, he was regretting that decision quite a lot as he laid on the beach of some piss poor “island” that was barely big enough for a dozen or so people. Not that there was a dozen or so people, there was just him. Him and a bunch of trees that bore fruits that he didn’t actually know the name of but that we’re keeping him alive. And the shade of the trees themselves did help keep him from getting too sunburnt.

He was on the verge of giving up today. He’d been out here so long with not a single sight of a boat or plane. He’s running out of fruit to eat and no matter how hard he tries, he can’t seem to catch any fish. He shuts his eyes and lays in the hot sand, feeling it scorching his skin, painful but he doesn’t care. Do distracted but his own mind that he doesn’t even hear the splashing of water before something wet and wiggling slaps against his face. He shoots up with a shout, eyes wide as he looks down at the still living fish that was flopping around in his lap. Confusion filled him, driving him to look up and around for what could have done this. It took him a minute but eventually he spotted it. You. Your black eyes barely peaking up above the waves, unblinking. You notice his attention on you quickly, sinking a bit lower in the water, seemingly growing a bit shy. He found it….cute.

“If you come out of the water, we can share this.” Graves called to you after a moment or two of silence, tilting his head. “What do you say, Darlin?”

Valeria - Gorgon

Valeria decided that she hated the woods. She had never had any particular feelings towards them before but now, now she is sure that she hates them. A month surrounded these god forsaken trees in the middle of she didn’t even remember where and she hated the woods. Once more she cursed Alejandro for forcing her to flee from her home, cursed her helicopter for crashing, her breathing heavy as she shuffled through branches and bramble, just barely keeping from tripping several times. She growled, low in the back of her throat, opening her mouth to-

A branch snapped behind her.

Her head whipped around, pulling out her gun and aiming it faster then she could think. Not that it would matter, she’d used all the ammo to hunt down food so she could survive. But whoever was behind her didn’t need to know that. Only….there wasn’t anyone behind her. Her eyes flickered around, hands still tight around her gun, a reflex more than anything at this point. A rabbit? Or maybe just her imagination. She was starting to become dehydrated. Maybe-

Another snap. This one closer. Behind her. She turned again but she wasn’t quick enough, her gun smacked out of her hands and her body knocked to the floor, her breath knocked out of her lungs by a foot pressing firmly in the center of her chest. She tried to squirm but it did no good, neither did clawing at the offending leg.

“If you don’t stop moving, I’ll turn you to stone.” A voice above her said and she looked up, Spanish curses already starting to fly from her lips before she even saw the head full of snakes you possessed or the cat like slits of your eyes.

Well that was…..certainly not what she was expecting

[bejeweledblondie]

Just Like My Babcha

Sobiesław “Gromsko” Kościuszko x F! Reader

Summary: Y/N comes from a Polish-American family & learned from the best at making homemade pierogi catching the attention of a familiar Polish operator

A/N: I’m not from Poland I myself have polish ancestry & my own Babcha came from Poland but she never taught me unfortunately so if there’s any mistranslations I apologize in advance. For anyone who doesn’t know a pierogi is like a potato dumpling, but it can be filled with cabbage & other food

Warnings: potential mistranslations, traditional gender roles, thoughts of impregnating

Y/N’s hips swayed side to side to the song that was coming out of the nearby speaker. She used the back of her hand to brush some of her hair out of her face, & got flour on her cheek in the process. It was Easter, & she was making pierogi to celebrate the holiday. She was feeling a little homesick being far away from her family, & called her mother asking for the recipe. The smell of the dough was bringing back nostalgic memories of going to the grand Orthodox Church & coming home for a early lunch. Her babcha would help her little delicate hands pinch the edges to hold the cabbage & potatoes.

She was so focused on cutting the dough properly & to proportion that she didn’t even notice the shadow she was starting to acquire. Sobesław was returning from a mass at the local Orthodox Church when he was pleasantly surprised by the smell of pierogi’s cooking. He walked into the conjoined kitchen & living room area of the apartment he lived in. He was surprised to see their Human Resources Secretary standing there. She was also so kind to him, & was actually able to pronounce his name correctly. He was in utter shock when she was able to pronounce it on the first try.

He leaned up against the doorway as he watched her hum to herself while she started to fill each pierogi. This was a sight he could get used to. Growing up in a very traditional Catholic Polish household had instilled very traditional values. A vision of her with a small baby bump glowing from pregnancy making pierogi’s & other food played in his head. She was absolutely beautiful. Being a civilian, let alone a woman on a military base had to have been intimidating for her. Every time he’d walk into the office she worked out of her head would always been down, failing to make eye contact. Her shyness always intrigued him. He couldn’t imagine someone so stunning want to hide their face all the time.

Her delicate hands started to fold & pinch the pierogis creating the half moon shape. It took one accidental bump into the side of a table for him to gain her attention. A small gasp escaped her lips at the sound & a slew of polish curses rang out of his. A scarlet blush appeared on his cheeks as he tried to cough it off. She looked and smiled at him.

“Oh Sobiesław you startled me,” She started. “I’m assuming you got a good waft of the pierogis I already have cooking.” A small smirk danced on her lips.

“Tak (yes).” He replied. “Just wanted to know if you needed any help. My babcha, she used to make them with me.”

“That’s where I learned too.” She replied enthusiastically. “Well come in! Just make sure you wash up.” He walked into the kitchen & washed his hands in the sink. Once he finished drying them off he stood right beside her. “Hands.” She instructed. He held out his hands and she placed some flour in the them. Rubbing his hands together he spread the flour & got to work.

As he started to put some of the cabbage into the dough, he couldn’t help but notice how petite she was. The pierogis looked significantly larger in her delicate hands than his. She smiled up at him & he nearly melted into the floor right there.

“I can see our Babcha’s had very similar techniques.” She said. “How long have you been cooking them?”

“Ever since I was able to walk.” He replied. “My Babcha wanted me to know so I could pass down the recipe.”

“Mine too.” She replied smiling & continued to fill & pinch the pierogis. “Seems like they’d be close.” He could’ve dropped to one knee right there. She always had a reputation of being so kind, but she truly was an angel. It wasn’t very often that his teammates asked much about his life or his family. It was refreshing & comforting to talk to her about his life back home.

“How does a woman like you wind up in a place like this?” He asked. “You’re an anioł (angel).” She smiled at his compliment. Her life wasn’t the best back home, & the civilian sector of defense contracting provided her with a way out. Good benefits & there would always be work.

“I needed to get out. Home wasn’t the best environment for me to be in.” She replied somewhat solemnly. “Since I have personal health issues I wasn’t qualified for military service but I found employment in the civilian sector.”

A feeling of sadness washed over him. He couldn’t imagine someone as kind & beautiful having to experience something so tragic. It only triggered the instinct to protect & take care of her more. Once the pierogis were cooking away, she started to set the table for the two of them. Beautiful hand painted Polish pottery littered the table. Intricate blue & red floral designs created a kaleidoscope of colors that stood out on the white table cloth.

Sobesław admired her attention to detail even if it was just the two of them. He too was feeling homesick for his country, but seeing all the traditional Polish decor around him made him feel right at home. A timer went off alerting them the last batch of pierogis were done. Sobesław went to take the pierogis off of the pan & Y/N’s hand came down smacking it.

“You go sit down,” She ordered. “I’ll take care of it.” In pure shock he slowly made his way to the table & plopped himself down into a chair. Not long after she started to bring out the tray of pierogis. Soon followed challah bread, kielbasa (sausage), & potatoes.

“Kochanie (my darling) how do you plan for us to eat all of this?” He asked. Her heart fluttered at the term of endearment. She really did cook a meal for a family of ten.

“We’ll manage,” She replied as she poured him a glass of wine. “I’m sure some others will see the leftovers in the fridge. But don’t eat too much there’s still dessert.” She walked back into the kitchen to grab the opłatek (communion wafer) for grace. As she was walking back out she caught Sobesław almost taking a huge bite out of a pierogi.

“Tsk tsk, we still have to say grace!” She stated. A small blush crept onto his face, he had forgotten. She walked up to him handing the opłatek to him for him to break off a piece. Then she place a small kiss to his forehead. She walked to her place setting & sat down. A small prayer was said & they both each ate their piece of the opłatek. “Now you can dig in.” She teased.

He immediately started to pick up the pierogi he cut earlier. A small moan escaped his lips as the pierogi touched his tongue. He started to hear wedding bells the more he ate.

“I’m assuming it’s good.” She laughed. He nodded still speechless from the food that was in his mouth.

“They’re just like my babcha’s.” He replied after he swallowed. She smiled at the complimented & started to cut into her own food. “What are you doing next Friday?” He asked.

“Nothing.” She replied.

“I want to returned the favor, let me take you out.” He stated very bluntly.

“Sure! It’s a date.” She replied & started to eat the food in front of her. His heart leaped, & he couldn’t wait to tell his babcha he found the girl he was going to marry.

[notspiders]

Making Great Grandchildren for Grandmother

Reference used: https://assets.clip-studio.com/en-us/detail?id=1799447

[yooo-lets-go]

Some background character somewhere: is named John Kowalsky

Me: 👀👀😳🇵🇱🇵🇱🦅🇵🇱??

Misja „Alone” to był po prostu szybki spacer po Sosnowcu

[b1rds3ye]

Of Dreams and Legends

In the middle of the night you have a heart to heart with the legendary Gromsko. You learn what inspires him to keep fighting, and somehow, that includes you.

Pairing: Sobiesław “Gromsko” Kościuszko x GN!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Confessions, Friends to Lovers

Word Count: 3.1k

Warning: My interpretation of Gromsko’s character, Reader doesn’t know Polish

A/N: Something about Gromsko’s voicelines and bio just makes him seem like an old heroic story in the making to me, so I wrote about it a lil 😌

The air held a chill tonight, lightly nipping at the exposed skin on your neck and face. Zipping up your jumper you laid with your back against the cold surface to look up to the skies. It probably would be for the best that you head back inside, but it wasn’t every night the sky would be this clear. To admire the sublime in the stars as they twinkled down at you. These days they are known as nothing more than gargantuan balls of gas, the unwanted remains of the universe, but how could one not romanticise the sight above you? Up in the expansive skies, every battle paled in comparison. These mundane balls of gas have been unchanging for millenia, the skies you are looking up now, how many others are admiring it? Not just tonight but in the years of yore. Battle armour, weaponry, nation borders and all would have changed, yet when all was done and dusted, you would all be looking up at the same skies.

A bang and a foreign curse had you jolting out of your reverie. Gaze upside down, you shot a glare at who was intruding, only to relax at the welcome sight of a familiar face.

“Sobiesław?”

“Serduszko, you do not make it easy to find you,” he grunted, grabbing his leg to manually get it over the railing.

“I just wanted to admire the night skies.”

“On the roof of our base?”

You shrugged. Sobiesław walked towards you, each footstep heavy against the roof panels, sending reverberations that vibrated rhythmically against your back with a pleasant hum.

He stood beside you, feet by your knees as he followed your gaze to the skies. Hands as fists on his waist, he made a startled noise before turning to you again.

“Did you not wish to be found? I will return to the others, alone time can be good for a soldier.”

“No, no. You’re always welcome,” you grinned.

Sobiesław’s face always held a slight scowl, it was intimidating until you realised it was unintentional. He says it was because he has spent years surrounded by skurwysyny (a word he has refused to translate for you but given how freely he says it to the enemy, you got the gist of it). Still, despite his natural frown, it softens at your words.

“It is hard to see but there is a star formation, named after a Polish king.”

You offer an inquisitive tilt of the head at his comment, wordlessly inviting him as you shift to the side to make space for him. He situated himself down beside you with a grunt of effort and you were lost for words as he adjusted to get himself comfortable against the rough texture of the roof. Sobiesław wasn’t the tallest nor the most imposing of soldiers in your company, but he managed to become a member of SpecGru for a reason. His frame was broad and sturdy, the breathing image of the quintessential soldier, postered on walls as propaganda to rouse even the most reluctant to action. His form emanated a comforting and welcome heat that soothed the bite of the night air. All of a sudden you felt rather sleepy.

Sobiesław raised an arm, pointing at the night sky. Even under his clothes you could see the curves of his muscles stretch out the wrinkles of his sleeve. The boulder that was his shoulder leading to the chain of muscle that was his bicep, linking to his forearm that was slightly flexed with the angle of his hand. Even his finger, relaxedly pointed to a dark patch in the sky, seemed determined.

“It is hard to see, but it should be there.”

Sobiesław pulls himself closer to you so that you can follow his directed hand better, a move that made you far too conscious that you were with him, alone and isolated from the rest of the company. And with the slight quirk of his lip, you were sure he was aware too.

“Scutum Sobiescianum, Shield of Sobieski. A Polish king who defended Vienna from the Turks. This was centuries ago, but I still feel great pride when I hear such an achievement.”

You stay quiet as you squint, trying to look into the supposed darkness to find this supposed constellation of defence. After some investigating you let out a sigh of defeat. You dropped your head onto the roof, creating a light thud. Sobiesław let out a hearty chuckle, turning his body so he can reach over with his far arm, offering you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. You responded with a pout, his sheer strength meant that your body shook slightly with each pat.

“Do not worry, you do not have to see it, just know it is there,” Sobiesław reassured, giving your shoulder an extra squeeze before retreating his arm. “Aiding as a shield for allies is honourable, even if he was only abiding by a treaty.”

“You’ve always liked your history, haven’t you?”

“Greatly. Learning about the victories of the past is motivating.”

You’re not surprised. Sobiesław was not an old man and he didn’t carry himself as such, but he conducted himself in a way you have not seen in anyone else, especially on the battlefield. In combat, a soldier is selfish out of the primal need for survival. One follows orders because that’s the best chance they have of keeping their head attached to their shoulders. To deny themselves the responsibility of atrocities committed, even complacency and teamwork is just a desperate act of self-preservation, one that everyone is guilty of and can not condemn.

But Sobiesław was different. He never seemed to fight for himself. On missions, even under the glare of his signature glasses, he was always looking past the objective, over the horizon and to something greater. No matter how long he spent on foreign soil, he left the stamp of his motherland under his boots as he marched onward. Whenever you fell in battle, body unrecognisable in a coating of blood that you’re not sure is yours or the enemy’s, he is there to pick you up. Not only literally but spiritually as he rouses you to keep fighting with words of encouragement that strike the cords of your heart. Words that you swore were taken from an ancient scripture with how they unleash reservoirs of energy lost deep in your soul. His words were loud and panicked, but not once is it out of concern for his own well-being, or how the mission or his military career could be jeopardised if anything else goes wrong. In those moments, he was fighting and breathing for you.

“Did it motivate you to enlist?”

“Yes. It motivated me before I realised.”

You frowned at his odd answer.

“How so?”

“I had a dream,” he stated, nostalgia warming his voice. He pulled his head in, craning his neck at an odd angle to speak to you quietly, like he was giving you the secrets of the universe. With a wave of the hand he ushers you in and you entertain him.

“When I was little, I always dreamt of a hussar before I even knew what they were. I think it was fate, a sign from above for me to enlist.”

You stare at him in disbelief.

“There was actually a painting of a hussar in the living room of my babcia… I don’t tell anyone that last bit, it is more fun that way.”

You failed miserably at stifling a laugh, in return he smiles as he pulls away. Even with the extra tidbit of information, his motivations still felt almost fable-like, like a myth in the making.

“I can see it,” you giggled, lifting your arms up in the air as you gestured animatedly. “The old wives will be talking about the legendary Gromsko. The quintessential soldier, called to action by the restless spirit of an old warrior in his dreams. He becomes the inspiration for all the future generations. The story of the chosen one who saves the world!”

“I tell you too much,” Sobiesław groans.

“They should make a movie out of you.”

“I am too boring.”

“You’re too humble.”

Sobiesław laughed, but you did not. Leaving the sight of the stars - you had still been half-heartedly trying to distinguish the shield of a king from the darkness - you fully turned to him. You ignored the dull throb of your arm now squished between your body weight and the roof, far too distracted by how close you were to him now that the two of you were facing each other.

“Truly. Even without the dreams I think you’re an inspiration.”

You didn’t realise how sentimental you sounded until you released your words into the air. You consequently chewed at your lips, forcefully sealing them. Your voice didn’t have to fight against the midnight breeze, instead your words settled comfortably in the small space between the two of you, warm and festering in the silence.

Sobiesław was unresponsive, eyebrows far more furrowed than usual. Feigning your embarrassment as getting comfortable against the ceiling, you dipped your head down to avoid seeing his reaction.

“Do you still have that dream?” You asked hurriedly.

“... No.”

It wasn’t everyday you heard Sobiesław hesitate. He had a gruff voice that was quick to speak his mind. It was so honest that his thoughts were often unfiltered in Polish and accompanied with colourful curses to add some extra honesty. There was even the odd, throaty, unintelligible sound as his mouth worked quicker than his mind. But here he was, strategising his next words to you.

“I stopped having that dream when I joined SpecGru.”

You blinked, almost fully flinching away from him in a knee-jerk reaction.

“Ah…”

You couldn’t help but shrink into yourself, drawing your knees close to your vitals. While you did not regret joining SpecGru, you knew for a fact it was not for the faint of heart. What made waking up at base easier was the people there, with a certain Polish man heartily hollering good morning to you on the daily at 6am sharp with a voice that consequently woke up the rest of the barracks. The fact he never failed to give you a pat on the back, still having the energy to look optimistically to the next day even with the losses of a mission gone south. Even on quiet nights like these, while few and far between, you would be able to catch a glimpse of the man under the near brutish exterior. Behind the mythos and acts of altruism was a human with their own selfish needs and doubts. A sensitive man who related to you and brought you comfort when the darkness of battle bled over to your consciousness.

You had only hoped you could have done the same for him.

“I take it SpecGru didn’t meet expectations?”

You couldn’t stop the waver in your voice.

“Huh? No, it exceeded them, Serduszko.”

He turned away, back flat on the roof. Once again he looks to the cosmos, honing in on something beyond your comprehension.

“I am not done yet. I still wish to see the glory of Poland, but I want my own happiness.”

“Naturally,” you nod. Out of all the soldiers you knew, no one deserved a happy ending more than him. One where the monster is slain, peace is restored, and the hero lives happily ever after.

“I dream of returning home, I will bring my friends of new to the land of old.”

You offered a light hum of approval. It was such a simple wish, but wasn’t that the case for all heroes? To wish for something so mundane but to naturally bring greatness? Even when their dreams are supposedly selfish, their innate kindness brings glory to the good and delivers swift justice to those necessary.

“You are there,” Sobiesław murmured. Like a dream you question if he even spoke, voice so airy it blended with the rush of the breeze against your ears. Even the coarse edges of his voice become one with the low tones emanating from a nearby ventilation unit.

“You are in all of my dreams.”

Sobiesław is not looking at you, attention still trained on the stars, perhaps waiting for one to shoot across the sky. To make a wish, any little bit of aid to make a dream come true and you’re tempted to try and shoot one down for him with a rifle. Anything for him. Perhaps it was possible to fight selflessly, to bring another’s dream to fruition. Was there such a thing as staying alive for someone else? To spend your missions ensuring you return to base not for your own self, but so Sobiesław will have someone to bring home? But you can not guarantee your own life. You refused to make empty promises - Sobiesław absolutely hates them - so instead, you only offer your flimsy honesty.

“I think that dream is doable.”

“You are the hardest part about it.”

“What?”

You sat up immediately. You shot a light-hearted glare but your heart genuinely felt a pang at the sadness invading Sobiesław’s voice. How his nose twitches, trying to prevent a frown from settling on his face.

“But I’m right here!” You brought both hands to hammer at your chest, nailing in your point. “I better not be kicked out of SpecGru anytime soon. I’d love to be one of the friends you bring back home-”

“Ha!”

Sobiesław lets out a singular laugh, all air escaping his lungs to create a foreign sound that is as bitter as it is loud. You were sure he frightened a couple birds in a nearby tree who decided to migrate early from the disruption. You hoped none of the operators went to bed early else they would have had a nasty wake up call as his voice travelled in all directions, invading any of the open windows in the base.

When the echoes of his laugh settled to the ground, it dragged the warmth in the air with it. A sombre coldness came tenfold, you started to wrap your arms around your form, entering a foetal position as you looked at Sobiesław.

“It is my fault,” his confession comes out in a low groan, bringing up a hand to rub at his face. In between rubs he lets out a few quiet curses, words strained. When he is done, he still isn’t looking at you.

“I do not want to bring you back to Poland as just a friend.”

He dared to look at you and the light in his eyes snatched the air out of your lungs. Even under furrowed eyebrows his pupils were blown wide, taking you in as if you were the stars themselves. All seeing, all knowing. Even though you thought nothing special of yourself he turns to you with reverence as if you were the one who could make all his dreams come true.

You bring your gaze up to the sky, in hopes that the infinite expanse of the universe could do anything for your pounding heart. But they did little to settle your heart or your hasty breaths. The stars above really weren’t anything of wonder, were they? A shooting star is only a meteor, a large rock that will disintegrate in due time. The heroes of the past were often only average joes that were in the right place at the right time. Dreams were only the remnants of memories and experiences being fired off by neurons, to be forgotten in the void once one wakes up.

And yet you couldn’t help but romanticise it all the same.

It wouldn’t hurt, would it? Just like how Sobiesław keeps prancing around the base telling everyone his childhood dreams of a hussar were “fate”, couldn’t you make this fate too? Magical, like a prophecy. A promise that could survive any time or mission, that holds strong even against fate itself. The tale of Sobiesław’s recurring dreams that guide him to glory and consequently to you. A legend of your own.

“Then don’t,” you whispered.

“Take me to Poland as your lover.”

You didn’t think Sobiesław could look at you anymore in awe than before, but tonight was full of surprises. A heavy pause stills the air as he takes just a moment too long to understand your words. You couldn’t help but smile at how his face contorted with shock and confusion, he probably didn’t expect you to reciprocate so suddenly. But just like him, you had been dreaming of a scenario like this.

“You always have such good ideas,” Sobiesław chuckled. His boyish grin is roughened by his ragged features, but it doesn’t make it any less endearing. Pure and genuine, it had been a long time since you had seen such an expression on him. Sitting up, he reaches over to slide you across to him and again you find yourself ogling his impressive musculature. The fibres of his body swelling and flexing, his every move seemed to embody the strength of a hundred warriors. Such power and potential devoted to little old you as Sobiesław pulls you flush to his own body.

He’s like an overgrown heater, his body warmth emanating even through the thick wool of his jumper. Warm as though he was the very campfire that soldiers lit up for peace and respite at the end of a day of bloodshed. But not as warm as the lips that pressed against yours when you tilted your head to look up at him. His lips were a little chapped, the remnants of his celebratory vodka adding a crisp tang to the kiss. His actions driven by sheer passion, an arm now circling your shoulder blades and pulling you impossibly tight to him. You were trapped in his embrace, whole body entranced by his. All that was on your mind was the feeling of his being surrounding you. His calloused hands gripped onto you with a pleasant burn. Even as you struggled to breathe through your nose, your senses were filled with his cologne spiked with the smell of gunpowder and wilderness.

He let out a disapproving huff as you reluctantly pull away from him for some air, but Sobiesław still looks ever the victorious soldier.

“You make me indulge too much, Serduszko,” he exhaled.

You pressed your cheek into the fabric of his jumper, breaking into a fond smile as you cuddle into him.

“You know, you’ve never told me what that meant.”

Sobiesław took a moment to pull his head back far enough to plant a kiss on your forehead.

“It means ‘sweetheart’,” he replied smugly.

You froze.

“You mean, you called me that on missions? When we were talking to our contractors? Our direct superiors?!”

“Uh… Good thing no one else speaks Polish here, yes?”

With a joyous laugh like his, you can’t bring yourself to be angry.

Call of Duty Masterlist

[batwritings]

Kinktober Day 26 - Primal Play

Trying out another operator today, Gromsko! (Also sorry for the delay on this one, but I was big tired getting home last night, haha) Enjoy!~

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your legs were starting to burn from how much you had been running. Your chest was heaving with every breath now, tears streaking your face as the wind whips around you. You never thought you’d get so into this kind of thing, yet here you were.

You’d noticed how pent up Gromsko had been as of late, snapping at nearly anyone he came in contact with. The Polish man was normally pretty easy-going, yet you could hear the Polish grumbling ever time he left a conversation. You couldn’t exactly just let it be, that’s not who you were.

Now when asked about it, that’s where the issue came in, if it could be called that. See, your Polish teammate needed a release, one that would probably be frowned upon if it were done in the confines of the bunks. Hence, you hauling ass out in the tundra behind base.

Unfortunately for you, you were very much unaccustomed to the base’s exterior, having been recently moved from another. You didn’t know the great outdoors that surrounded you all as much as your comrades. So when you, very unceremoniously tripped over a tree root, it was no surprise when Sobieslaw pinned you to the ground.

He too was panting like a rabid dog, so at least you weren’t tired for nothing. “Moja ofiara,” he growls in your ear. You were as pinned as you could get, head pushed into the snow, and your arms held behind your back. “Now I take what’s mine.”

Before you could ask any questions, you felt your pants and underwear being ripped off your lower half. Part of you wanted to complain, but you knew this was part of what you agreed to. Gromsko was acting on instant and you were going to let him.

You were sure to prep yourself before hand as instructed. “I’m not going to be giving you the time to prep in the heat of things,” you had been warned. You knew it was probably meant to be more threatening than it actually came off. Your teammate knew what he was doing better than you did, so you appreciated the heads up.

The shuffling behind you was heard for what felt like ages, before you were suddenly filled right to the brim. Your loud moan was more akin to a scream that mixed with Gromsko’s growling groan. The hand that held your head down comes to grip your hip so hard that you have zero doubts of the bruise that will be there.

Your teammate curses as he fucks into you roughly. Your hole already aches, but the feeling of it being filled is so much greater. The symphony the two of you make is loud enough to wake the dead, but that raw primal feeling overrides everything.

The moment you feel Sobieslaw stop, you go to question him. You’re pulled up by your hair, arms now freed. The other hand hold your hip helps support you, sprawled across your chest. “Kopalnia,” He growls, breath hot against your ear as he nips at your lobe. “Mine. All mine.”

You whimper, noises falling back to moans as the man pounding you starts to litter your neck in bruises and bitemarks. “Mine and mine alone,” he groans as he fucks into you. “Let everyone see, everyone will know.” 

You’re not sure if it was the adrenaline, or simply the raw-ness to the act, but you start responding. “All yours Gromsko,” you tell him breathlessly. “Make me yours…! Mmn…! Breed me…!”

Again you draw out the most feral growl you’ve ever heard a human make. The hand on your hip slides forward to start rubbing and stroking your sex roughly. You’ve started to make your own rhythm, grinding your body down with what leverage you can find to meet Gromsko’s thrusts. 

Between the rough fucking and attention to your sex, it’s all begun to become too much. Not in a bad way, no; it was better than you’d ever felt. “Moja ofiara is close huh?” your Polish “captor” muses, voice dark and sinister. “Let me feel you.”

You certainly don’t need to be told twice. Your orgasm hits you hard, harder than you’ve ever felt before. The addition of Gromsko still pounding away inside you only made the pleasure hit you harder like a punch to the gut. But y’know… in a good way. 

You’re about to complain as the pleasure starts to shift to pain and overstimulation when you hear him growl one final time as he finishes inside you. The both of you are still for the moment, panting heavily as you come down from your respective highs. Slowly, you feel the hand on your chest start to rub in a slow circle. 

“Breathe kochanie,” he tells you, voice soft and low. “You did well for me. I feel…sated.” A warmth blossoms in your chest from his words. Unfortunately, it does little to offset the cold that was now starting to seep into your skin. Gromsko chuckles softly as he feels you start to shiver against him.

“Come, let’s get you warmed up.”

[wannabehussar]

Komsko nation how we feeling tonight?

[pokraush]

gromsko is the type of guy who would see you cutting an onion, crying, and would come closer to tease you about it and wipe down your tears but uh oh! the onion fumes hit him too and now he's also crying so you're both standing in the kitchen in tears laughing at each other