#cod modern warfare reboot

[hedgehogsaretheultimatelifeform]

Kinktober 2024 Day Sixteen

Mutual Masturbation

John "Soap" MacTavish/Alex Keller

“Nah, I’m not having that.” Soap stood up, from his bed, hurrying across the room to get between Alex and the door, blocking his path. “I’m not having it.”

“Have it or not; out of my way.” Alex jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “I’ve known Gaz longer.”

“And you see him what, twice a year?” Soap didn’t move. “I spend way more time with him.”

Alex scoffed. “Like that means anything. He upgraded his phone plan for me. Got unlimited international texts and calls.”

“Oh, fuck off. He got that for me, and Ghost and Price too, by that logic.” Soap took a step back and planted his feet as he leant on the door, bracing himself against it as Alex took a step towards him.

“Oh, okay. Weak sauce argument on my end.” Alex held up his hands in mock surrender, before dropping them, his face cracking into a smile as he thought of another one to replace it. “I fuck better than you.”

Soap pressed his back into the door, feeling his mouth run dry, his fingers twitching as he grasped at the metaphorical straws, trying to come up with a response to Alex’s claim. “And… when exactly did Gaz tell you that?”

It was Alex’s turn to stumble, disarmed as quickly as he’d disarmed Soap. He was silent for a moment, the smile falling from his face as he admitted that, “well, not Gaz… But everyone I have fucked, has said that I’m the best they’ve had.”

“The opinions of ‘everyone else’ aren’t relevant. If that hasn’t come from Gaz’s lips, then it means fuck all.”

“Sure, it does. It speaks of a good track record, with how many people have said that to me. You, though. Has anyone ever actually said, ‘you fuck good MacTavish?’”

“Plenty.” Soap lied. Actually, most of his partners said he got fucked well. “And that’s besides the point. Gaz likes to be the one doing the fucking, not the other way around.”

“Is that what he’s told you?” Alex crossed his arms, tilting his head up to use the advantage of his extra inches of height over Soap.

“He hasn’t told you?” Soap grinned, pushing himself up off the door, walking back towards Alex. “I’ve heard all his sordid details.”

“All men say they only want to top around other men.” Alex hissed back.

“Oh? Is that a confession? Prefer presenting, do you—”

Alex laughed off the accusation. “Nah. I last too long when I’m not in a hole.”

“Prove it.” Soap’s tone didn’t match Alex’s mirth, and its seriousness caught him off guard.

“What?”

“Prove it. Put your money, your dick, where your mouth is, Keller. Show me that you last longer.”

“Some literal dick measuring?” Alex drew close to Soap, his eyes almost sparkling. “Whoever wins gets to ask out Gaz?”

“Yep.” Soap spat into his hand and held it out.

“Deal.” Alex shook it, maintaining the touch a moment too long before they broke apart, each heading back to their respective beds.

Soap lingered a moment longer, going half a step behind, to make sure Alex didn’t bolt past him out of the door, only settling on his bed once Alex had on his. Alex stared back at him as they undid their belts and pulled out their dicks.

Soap was already fully hard, which he tried to conceal by cupping his fingers around the head of his dick.

Alex chuckled. “Bit of a fight is what does it for you, then?”

“Taunting do it for you?” Soap responded absently, too busy watching Alex’s cock as it seemed to grow in his hand. Fucking grow or show. Growers were cheats.

His cock was larger than Soap’s, and he’d been circumcised, evidently. Fucking boring. Alex had the most default looking penis ever. Longer than the ‘mathematical average’, pink tip, faint veins trailing up the sides, and either very little or no hair to speak of.

Soap was something to look at. He wasn’t short by any means, but his was focused more on being thick and heavy, bursting with veins, complete with bustle of hair at the base. He didn’t know if Gaz liked it hairy, but Soap had caught him staring at his happy trail once or twice or seven times enough to suspect that he, at the very least, didn’t mind it.

“Ready?” Alex wrapped his hand around his cock, bobbing it teasingly. “Pick a pace. Go until one of us comes. No cheating and slowing down.”

“You’re on.” Soap grinned and started stroking his cock, easily familiar in his own hand, as he leant back on his left. His eyes flicked between Alex’s cock, only to make sure his hand was still moving, and his face, to see if Alex would have enough of a lapse in attention that would give Soap the chance to slip away.

The room was quiet apart from their hands moving on their cocks, both biting back their moans in a stoic show of silence as they both watched each other.

Soap shifted as he saw Alex’s eyes flicker down, before suddenly clicking his tongue. “Get over here, cheat. Can’t see what you’re doing.”

“It’s not my problem that you’re blind.” Soap rolled his eyes but stood from his bed, dick swinging heavy as he walked to sit next to Alex. “That better?”

Alex seemed to hesitate, glancing down at Soap’s cock again. “Yeah. Better.”

They resumed stroking, keeping an eye on each other, before they both glanced up at the same time, made eye contact, and leaned in. Soap found himself turning to kiss Alex, bringing his left hand up to cup his face, digging his fingers into Alex’s beard, even as he pulled back from the kiss, still stroking his dick.

The kiss was a one-time thing, they both decided, both of their mutual fault, that they would take to the grave, then Alex kissed Soap again.

Soap lost himself in Alex’s mouth, his brain humming with so much pleasure that he didn’t even realise that he (for once) wasn’t the desperate one in the couple. Instead, he thought about shoving his groans into Alex’s mouth, and swallowing Alex’s back, hooking his free arm over Alex’s shoulder, using it to roll his body closer to Alex’s side, as his dick twitched in his hand, and Soap came.

Alex was the one to eventually break the kiss as he collapsed down into Soap’s chest, mumbling something about needing to breathe.

Soap held him up with his arm around his shoulders, wiping his right hand clean before running it through Alex’s hair. He blinked, gazing around the small room as he felt his own breathing slowly even out, before the very hard realisation hit him, that he had just jerked off to kissing a man that wasn’t Gaz. Whoops.

“When’d you come?” Alex asked, still curled up in Soap’s chest.

“Dunno.” Soap made no move to let him go.

“So, for all that, we’re back where we started.” Alex reached up, tracing the muscles in Soap’s arm that was resting in front of him.

“Nah. I think we’re somewhere now.” Soap wasn’t sure if he was ready to broach the topic of what the fuck had just happened between them, so he took it back to the guy that had got them there. “Like, maybe we could see which of us Gaz wants.”

“Huh.” Alex looped one of his arms around Soap’s hip, riding his t-shirt up above his belt so he could rub Soap’s skin. “That actually could be a good idea.”

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

“You’re pouting.” Farah stated, leaning over Gaz where he was sat on the bench.

“I heard Alex and Soap arguing about me again.” Gaz grunted, flicking his cigarette butt to the ground.

“They’re still on that?” Farah sat next to him on the bench, taking out her pack, opening it before she held out her hand for his lighter.

Gaz passed it to her. “I wish they didn’t think that I’m some prize that has to be bloody won.”

“True, you’re not that exclusive. You do still want to fuck both of them, right?”

Gaz nodded. “It’s the twenty first century; why should a man have to chose one man to fuck when he can have two?!”

“Easy.” Farah chuckled and passed Gaz’s lighter back. “They might hear you.”

“Good! Then, they might actually get their shit together.”

“Or you could, and ask the pair of them out yourself.”

Gaz contemplated the thought for a moment. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a genius?”

“I could stand to be told more often.” Farah smiled.

“Well, we should.” Gaz stood. “Be back in a bit.”

“Going to finally put an end to the dick measuring?” Farah squinted as she looked up, seeing Gaz framed by the sun coming to set in the sky behind him.

“Look, I’m not a miracle worker.” Gaz tutted, then grinned. “I might be able to make it more… constructive, though.”

“Good luck with that.” Farah waved him off. “Promise you tell me everything!”

“Will do!” Gaz called back as he hurried away.

[toucandrawz]

POV: You find the first two MW reboot games for a shit ton less at gamestop

I’m so excited

[emmster]

Thinking about how Simon checks for a pulse and then he doesn’t feel Johnny’s pulse

[omegapropaganda]

[silverspleen]

Why yes I am still in War Criminal Ship Hell, thanks for asking!

Price/Gaz shippers, I was today years old before I learned of your existence. Please write me your manifesto. I get it, I think I get it at least, but your should tell me the storied history of your ship and your favorite element of the dynamic. Just to make sure I actually get what I think y'all are putting down.

[nrdmssgs]

Again, im so not sorry.

[parkersbliss]

[gucci-ross]

These COD Y/n are not it!!

I’m tired of the barrack bunny stuff or the over exaggerated breasts and butts figure. AND saying she is a lieutenant around early 20s. That doesn’t make sense!!!

Girl- Gimme one y/n that makes people question about how old she is when she mentioned stuff she did in the 70s, 80s and 90s!!!

Mine [oc] is like that and have beef with Buses and electric cars.

I want Y/n to be like:

Y/n: Move your ass! What are you waiting around here for?! The bus!

———

Y/n: *smokes* i haven’t heard that song from Megadeth since they did an open performance for Dio…

Soap: how old are you again?

———

Laswell: I remember you got me to go to that party. Left me alone and shit.

Y/n: Hey! That got you to open up and meet your wife. I’m still bitter that you didn’t bring me to the honeymoon.

Laswell: You didn’t help.

Y/n: yes I did!

———

Gaz: Captain told me you got a tattoo.

Y/n: yeah *rolls up sleeve* here.

Gaz: not that one. You have another one.

Y/n: I’m not telling you, Kid.

Nik: *passing by* It’s a tramp stamp. That said Hugh Jackman.

Y/n: Bastard!!

Gaz: *wheezing*

———

Ghost: The Bus! It’s going to ram into the crowd!

Y/n: I never trust those things!

Soap: What?!

Y/n: shoot the wheels!

Soap: What?!

Y/n: Did I ask for driver to pull over?!Shoot the wheels damn it!!

———

Price: You would make a good captain.

Y/n: I would’ve been a terrible one.

Price: I know. *Chuckles*

———

Y/n: I need to be taken out.

Gaz: like on a date?

Y/n: No by a sniper.

Ghost: That’s one way to a man’s heart.

———

Gaz: you got kids?

Y/n: Yep. 2 boys.

Soap: wouldn’t mind looking after your wee lads if you croak…

Y/n: they’re in their 20s Soap. What do you mean croak? I’m old not that old.

Gaz: How old are you-

Y/n: Focus on the mission.

———

Y/n: Damn I can’t read this… *pulls out reading glasses from her vest pouch*

Price: *struggles to keep a straight face*

THATS WHAT I WANT!

[local-crying-boy]

🅅🄻🄰🄳🄸🄼🄸🅁 🄼🄰🄺🄰🅁🄾🅅

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 - 𝔻𝕒𝕪 13

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚅𝚕𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚛 𝙼𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚟 𝚡 𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚝: 𝙳𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚢𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙳𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚢𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊 (𝙾𝚋𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚕𝚢), 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚍𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝:

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Translations:

понял? - Understood?

хорошая девочка - good girl

солдат - soldier

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Vladimir Makarov. The infamous Russian terrorist. Everyone who knew that man knew to think ten times over before they talk to him, watch their back with him, make sure to be on his good side.

Though, you were able to remain on the Commander’s good side no matter what. At first, people wondered why. Why was this one person able to get on Makarov’s nerves and not be yelled at, or punished, no matter what?

Well, there was a simple answer to that: the two of you were dating.

But you weren’t left unpunished, that was something Makarov made sure of. Even if his men didn’t see it, you weren’t let off so easily.

You first had reservations about dating your Commander, however, after some time, you realised that the authority that he had from commanding the Konni group, could be easily carried over to your relationship - just a little less harsh.

“Are you trying to humiliate me, hmm?” He questioned, his hands were pinning your wrists down to the desk he had you leaned against, his lips pressing against the back of your neck as he was buried his cock deep inside of you, pulling out and then slamming back into you with a grunt. “Undermining me in front of my own men.”

You gave him a quick shake of the head, panting as you tried your best to make coherent sentences, your eyes focused on the various different paper on the desk you were suddenly pinned to not moments ago. “No… no, of course not…”

“No?” He questioned, but he tutted, his hand trailing to the front of your neck, wrapping his fingers around it, squeezing lightly just to hear that pretty little moan from your lips. “Then why is it that you’ve been contradicting every decision I make?”

It had been an exaggeration, of course. But, really, it was an excuse just to get you in this position, ass planted against his abdomen with his cock deep inside of your pussy and his chest pressed against your back.

“I didn’t mean to-” you tried to explained, but was met with Vladimir’s quiet shush, his lips right by your ear as he did so, sending shivers down your spine.

“I’m your Commander.” He reminded, wet kisses travelling down your navel to your exposed collarbone, his hand that was holding your wrist down started to travel to your thigh. “You listen to me, понял?”

“Yes…” you whispered faintly, your breath hitching when you felt delicate touches on your thigh, his fingers that was caressing over the skin only going higher.

You wouldn’t even try and defend yourself now, you knew that, if you did, he would only prolong your organism, or he’d drag out more than he did the previous time, leaving you a shaking mess.

“Tell me you understand.” He growled, his fingers flexing around your neck as his lips pressed against your temple. His eyes were fixated on your figure, even if his face was closer to your hair, he loved to see how you fitted in his arms. Almost like a puzzle piece.

“I understand,” you whimpered under your breath, your hands were holding onto the wood so hard that they started to ache, but with a rougher thrust into your soaked pussy, after a loud moan, you added: “Commander…”

“хорошая девочка.” He praised, his index finger had pressed against your clit, causing you to let out a soft moan. It was barely anything. A light touch. A tease, really.

“Commander…” you mewled out, eyes squeezing shut as your felt yourself tightened around Makarov’s shaft.

“Ah, ah, солдат.” He tutted against, his hand squeezing your throat again. “Eyes open.”

You let out a small whine, taking a breath as your eyes opened again, finding somewhere for your eyes to fixate on while he fucked you.

A quiet ‘there you go…’ reached your ears, Makarov’s thumb gently rubbing the side of your neck, a stark contrast to how he had you in a harsh grasp.

The edge of the desk was digging into your skin, causing an uncomfortable sensation in your thighs, but mixed with how well Makarov could take you - cock buried inside deep and finger just lightly pressing against your clit - you were, ultimately, contradicted with sensations over your body.

“Oh, God… Vladimir….” You muttered, letting out a small whine, a shaking breath escaping your lips as your eyes started to water.

“You’re crying?” He mused quietly, a dark chuckle escaping his mouth. He tutted afterwards, thrusting deep inside of you. “Pathetic thing, no need to cry.”

You whimpered quietly, you were looking down at the desk, but your head was pulled up by Vladimir’s hand around your neck, causing you to let out a gasp.

“Maybe you’re right to cry,” he whispered in your ear, biting your earlobe. “Naughty girl like you, hm? Finally getting what you deserve?”

His thick cock thrusted inside of your tight, wet hole, his movements only getting faster, rougher. In the process, you got louder, cried and moans filling the room as you felt your pussy clamp around his member like a vice.

“You gonna come, солдат?” He asked, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. “Hm? You gonna come around my cock? Go on then… cum for your Commander.”

He continued his relentless attack to your hole, grunting in your ear as he pushed his entirety of his length inside of you. You quivered and shook as tears started to stream down your cheeks, though the tears had seemed to make Makarov go even faster.

Your orgasm hit like a truck, a cry escaping your lips as you tensed up, Makarov’s hands tightening their already hard grasp. You heard his Russian accent, quiet ‘there you go’s and ‘that’s it’s meeting your ears.

He had slowed down, only to lean back into your ear. “I’m not done with you, солдат. You haven’t learnt yet, have you?”

“No, Commander…” you breathed out, your voice quiet and shaken.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Kinktober {2024} Masterlist

[asshork]

graves vs shadow rookie

[ohgeesoap]

Soap's journal entries concerning dogs. Typed out under the cut in case they're difficult to read.

Consider me a cat man now.

We overcame ultranationalists, chopper crashes, danger close with gunships, but a goddamn dog is what'll get me into an infirmary? Rabies, ridiculous. What a waste of time. Obviously can't tell Price or Gaz. Nikolai seems capable of keeping a secret. Probably keeps vials of vaccine vaulted with manifest intel, secretive bastard.

--

And no, I haven't exactly been on my booster shots. Think Nikolai said every two years but didn't think I'd be back in Russia so bloody soon. So yeah, was happy to follow Price and Roach over the net. Not just because it meant I was far from the mutts, but because I got to listen to the two of them working together like we once did. There was the same option: take out the target or let them him pass. Nice to hear Price taking Roach under his wing. Know the effect it can have.

[sapchat]

Where do y'all think Nik's hanger is in MW3?

Cuz like the quick little backgrounds we see it looks kinda like the Swiss Alps... maybe even the Scandinavian Mountains? But I wanted everyone else's opinion on it

I'm also trying to like base if off of how long it might take a helicopter to get from like Sweden/Switzerland to like the Ukraine region since Verdansk is slightly based off of Donetsk, Ukraine

Like... this seems like to me, coming from my little American pea brain to be the Swiss Alps... either way its pretty as fuck and I wanna live there.

Fucking Simon just standing there

[lottielovelace]

technically

(Valeria Garza x Reader)

summary: You're working as KorTac's reserve medic on an assignment in Mexico, leading you to a "nameless" woman.

You don't know her name. You don't know what she's done and who she's killed. All you do know is that she is very dangerous, very powerful, and you're going to have to do surgery on her. In a bikini. No pressure!

Prior context if you haven't read the prior installments: Reader is König's long-lost half sister. Code name Prinzessin (Sinn for short). Recently graduated from Med school. There is more, but it's not relevant to this specific fic so I'll leave it unspoiled in case you end up reading the series. For people who have been following the series, Ghost x Reader is still endgame, but they aren't together yet and I think Reader's life shouldn't solely revolve around him. Plus she's going to go through the wringer later, so let her have some fun now. And in case it's not obvious, since this is in second person and you don't know Valeria's real name, you know her as Bravo-Three for most of this fic.

originally posted on ao3 (wordcount: 2.2k)

Rating: E

Relationships: Valeria Garza x Reader

Ao3 Tags: Improper Medical Procedure / Cunnilingus / Flirting / One Night Stands / (though actually more like a two night stand)

this is a part of a series

Many thanks to @xstanceh3x for beta-ing!

Technically, this was a work trip.

Only technically.

In everything but name, this was a reward. Your reward for graduating with flying colors: a trip to Mexico.

Now, technically, you were a reserve medic for König, Horangi, and their allies. But you weren’t working in the field—not yet at least. Instead of being in the thick of the action, you were nicely holed away in the villa of their contractor. Not half-bad.

Hell, so long as no one got hurt, it was a free vacation.

So of course midway through your pool lounging, your radio crackled with Horangi’s voice.

“Sinn, are you there? Over.”

“Loud and clear. Over”

“Bravo-Three got hit, I’m taking her to you.”

“How bad is it?”

“Stable, but needs immediate care. I could try taking the bullet out myself, but I figure your stitches will leave the smallest scars.”

“I’m not afraid of another cicatriz,” an accented voice drawled out. Bravo-Three. You didn’t know her name—it was redacted from the files assigned to you—but you knew her face. You’d been briefly introduced when you arrived at the house—her house. The files didn’t say it, but your brother privately divulged that she was the one bankrolling this entire operation.

She was beautiful, stunning in a way that kinda made you forget everything for a second (just enough time for her to gut you). She had a quiet confidence to her. If you looked close you noticed that, while lacking the bulk of her male compatriots, her frame was bound with muscle. Not that you’ve been staring at her, of course. 

Horangi made good time. You were barely able to get out your equipment before the elevator dinged.

Shit, you didn’t even have time to change. You hastily slapped on a mask and gloves. A bikini may be impractical, but so long as it was paired with other PPE, it wasn’t the end of the world.

Horangi stumbled in, Bravo-Three leaning on him. He gently deposited her on the sofa. Her forehead was slick with sweat, messing up her normally immaculate hair.

“This is your medic?” Bravo-Three sneered through gritted teeth.

“Graduated top of her class,” Horangi reassured.

You smiled at her, “I would offer my hand, but I think it’s best for the both of us that these gloves remain sterilized.”

Bravo-Three’s eyes traced your attire with an unimpressed eyebrow but an appreciative gaze.

“I see you have proper scrubs on.”

“Well you did catch me a little off guard.”

“You should be better,” Bravo-Three reprimanded. “This is a job, not a vacation.”

Her tone was firm, but she was not being nearly as harsh as she could be. You remembered overhearing her dress down a subordinate last night (something about some “product” being missing, you weren’t sure, you didn’t speak Spanish). It’d been terrifying (and a little exhilarating). Bravo-Three could be very cruel and very scary when she wanted to be. This was neither. Maybe she had a soft spot for you. Or maybe she was just taking pity on you (or the piss).

“If you want me to change, I’ll change. But I would rather treat this wound immediately.”

“Fine,” the woman relented, a shark’s smile emerging on her face. “At least it’s a nice view.”

You couldn’t stop your blush. You know she saw.

She takes the bullet extraction like a champ, barely wincing as the forceps pull the metal out. It lands onto the living room ashtray with what feels like a deafening clatter.

Changing your gloves, you allow yourself to breathe. Step one down.

Antiseptic in hand, you cleaned her wound before beginning to suture. Even though you were scared out of your mind, your hands didn’t shake. You were too well-trained and practiced for that. Still, your anxiety was noticeable.

“You’re nervous,” Bravo-Three all but purred.

“You’re kinda a big deal. I wouldn’t want to screw it up.”

“I already told you, I’m no stranger to scars chula. No matter how big or small it ends up being, it will be in good company. As long as it heals, all is good.”

She pulled the neckline of her tank top down to give you a visual demonstration. You paused your work to look up and scold her for moving, only to be struck dumb by the sight of bare skin.

Tattoos and scars crisscrossed over her tanned skin. She still had her sports bra on—just as clothed as she would be in the gym—but something about this felt incredibly intimate. Maybe it was the way her dark eyes stared into your soul.

You bit your lip, forcing yourself to focus on the task at hand.

“Just don’t take it out on my brother and Horangi. No matter what happens, pay them in full.”

“Don’t worry, I keep my promises. How did you know, I’m—”

“Your body armor. It’s the good stuff.” A half-truth. You weren’t going to rat on your brother, and her body armor was expensive (your time at the KorTac base taught you that operators had THOUGHTS on armor brands and styles). “Done.”

She looked down at your handiwork.

“Not bad… Princesa, isn’t it?”

Your call sign rolled off her tongue in a way that made you shiver.

“Yes.”

“Nice, very nice.” The woman leant in. She looked even prettier up close. “You know, I don’t like being indebted. I ought to repay you.”

“You don’t need to do that,” your voice was breathless. “Just doing my job.”

“Let me thank you.” Her hand found its way to your waistband. It rested there like a promise. “Would you like me to show my gratitude?”

Want thrummed through you, but your tongue refused to comply—still shellshocked that someone like her would want you. You settled for a nod.

The woman sank to the ground.

You still didn’t know her name. You didn’t know what she’d done and who she’d killed. All you did know was the following three things:

She was dangerous. She was powerful. And she was on her knees for you, wanting to make you feel good.

She parted your legs with one hand, untying your bikini string with the other.

Her touch was gentle but firm. She had a job to do, she knew how to execute it, and she was damn well going to see it through.

You hated to interrupt her but, “Wait, what should I call you?”

“What do you know me as?”

“Bravo-Three.”

“And nothing else?"

“I’ve heard… whispers,” you conceded.

Bravo-Three looked up at you, intrigue now mixed with her lust. “Yes?”

“That you’re known as… the nameless one? I don’t know. I don’t speak Spanish. Either way it doesn’t really roll off the tongue, especially in the heat of… the moment.”

The woman thought about it for a moment, before deciding: “You can call me V.”

“V,” you tested the name on your lips. Clearly another pseudonym, but you didn’t mind that. It was yours to use for, yours alone.

You had only one more request before you surrendered yourself completely.

“V, please don’t tear your stitches.”

----------

She started with soft, little licks. Exploring the way your body reacted. Learning what made your breath hitch and insides clench. She didn’t want to break you, not yet at least.

As she began to get a feel for you and the way you… tick, her movements increased in both speed and confidence. You always prided yourself on being able to keep your mouth shut, but V had this… unpredictability to her that allowed her to pull moans and gasps and other little sounds from you with embarrassing ease.

The noise seemed to embolden her. But you know what they say about cockiness.

She’s skilled. Obviously. Undeniably talented and experienced. But slightly and frustratingly off target.

She’s so damn close to where you need her, but ever so off.

“Harder,” you moaned out.

V’s tongue didn't move. 

But after you add a desperate “Please”, her lips do.

With a jolt you realized that she was smirking. She knew damn well what you needed and was pointedly refusing.

You couldn’t help but let a groan of frustration slip out.

Fine. Guess you have to do it yourself.

You began grinding your hips, rocking her tongue into your cunt, riding her face .

V paused her gloating for a moment, reveling in your movements.

She made a muffled noise. It rumbled against your lips, tantalizing vibrations that only brought you closer to the edge. A laugh, you realized.

Teasing you was fun, but she’d had her fill of it.

Lifting you with ease, she pinned you against the wall—tongue still buried in you. Safely against something sturdy, she started writhing her tongue like a woman crazed. It’s intense, setting every nerve of yours ablaze. Scrambling, practically getting fucked silly, you reach for something— anything to steady yourself. Your hand winds up tangled in V’s beautiful locks, much to her apparent delight.

In the end it’s her canine—not biting, but instead—grazing against your clit that does you in. The shock of cool enamel, the reminder of danger, of the sharp teeth hidden in her plush mouth… your brain went numb.

Your head snapped back and for a second everything was blinding white. For a second you didn’t feel the wall behind you, or V’s grip on your waist, or her arms holding you up. All your body could even comprehend was euphoria.

When you finally came to, it’s to those same goddamn teeth, smiling at you through lips covered in your slick.

----------

You do end up having to redo her stitches. V has enough self control that they remained intact while she went down on you, but when you returned the favor she got… carried away. Arched a little too quickly and they reopened. When you said you wanted her gushing, that wasn’t what you meant.

“It’s a compliment, cariño,“ she reassured as you fixed her up again.

“Yeah, yeah.”

----------

“Well done, the wire transfer should process in two to three business days.”

“That’s good to hear.” Even though your absence perturbed Horangi, the fact that El Sin Nombre was walking around and discussing financial details—relaxed and fully stitched—was a good sign. “How did Sinn do?”

“Nicely. She’s very good with hands. Talented.”

He didn’t like the smug smile plastered on Valeria’s face.

“Where’s she now?”

“Resting. She worked hard. Very hard.”

Horangi thought about it for a moment before deciding, “I don’t need to know the details as long as she’s safe and on the flight home tomorrow.”

Valeria rolled her eyes.

“Yes sir.”

Her words held neither ire nor deference.

----------

You woke up to V’s voice. You groggily opened your eyes to find her on a phone call. Even though she didn’t seem angry with the caller, her voice was sharper than it ever was with you. This was business. Talking in rapid fire Spanish, you didn’t understand a lick of what she was saying—and judging from her ease at discussing such sensitive information with you present, she knew it.

You sat up, eyes still half lidded. At the sight of motion from you, V hung up, redirecting her full attention to you.

“Looks like someone’s a dormilona.” You groaned in response. “There’s some breakfast in the fridge.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You had quite the appetite yesterday.”

“That’s not…” you began to nod off before a gentle nudge from V woke you up once more.

“Come on, I know something that’ll wake you up.”

She ends up leading you downstairs, dressed in her pajamas, still half asleep. You two wind up at a door. V barked something at the guards down the hall. After getting acknowledgement from them, she opened it and flicked on the lights. Blinking away, your eyes adjusted to the brightness revealing a private shooting range.

“What are—”

“I’m not a very popular woman. I have enemies, enemies who’d like to hurt me through any means possible. Even if I never see you again, you’re still in danger. I would like to ensure you can defend yourself.”

“You do care.”

“You have such a pretty face. I’d hate to see it ruined. Can you shoot?”

“Long distance yeah, close range no.”

Her eyebrow leapt.

“How’d that happen?”

“Sniping is a family tradition. Plus the boys aren’t the biggest fan of the idea of me being in close combat.”

“With a chica like you, it’s a matter of when, not if that will happen. You know how to load a gun?”

You demonstrated for her. She tsked.

“Needs to be faster. While you’re fumbling for a round, someone else will have unloaded one into you. But speed only comes with practice, which we have no time for right now. Though when you get home… Anyway, let’s see what you can do.”

You tried your best to get into position. The handgun’s weight felt so unfamiliar, center of gravity completely different.

“This isn’t sniping. You can’t wait for the perfect shot to align. You need to make do. Your enemies already see you. You won’t be giving your position away.”

Her hands made their way to you. One landed on your waist, the other on your shoulder. After she noticed that “Dios you’re stiff,” she let her lips rest in the crook of your neck, accompanied by a simple order: “Relax.”

BANG

Even with noise protection, the gunshot and its recoil were more than enough to wake you up.

“Not bad, cariño. Again. Faster.”

Several rounds later V declared, “I think that’s enough for today. You have a flight to catch. And you should probably shower, I don’t know how your brother would react to you coming home smelling of me.”

You smiled at her from under your eyelashes, “All by my lonesome?”V chuckled, “Eres una chica muy traviesa, ¿lo sabías?”

[rhania]

My art for the GhostSoap zine last year! I was going for the idea that Soap got really into taking pictures, so there are a few from throughout their relationship.

[doktorichtofen]

This is NOT Nikolai Belinski.

This is Nikolai Belinski.

Nikolai from Modern Warfare (both the reboot and the originals) has no canon surname. Meanwhile, Nikolai Belinski is from the Zombies game mode (WaW-BO4) and has a canon surname.

Headcanons, theories and fanfiction are the LEAST reliable sources ever to find info on a specific subject.

I hope this post prevents any further misinformation being spread and/or any crosstagging between the character from MW and the character from CoDZ.

[temeyes]

that other big guy, i guess