#cod mw makarov

[dezgasting]

wasn't supposed to go this hard, but whatever.

[autobot2001]

Abandoned

Author: Autobot2001 Genre: Fanfiction Fandom: Call of Duty: Modern Warfare Rating: T Warning: None Pairing: None Description: Jamie is a soldier but struggles mentally. One fear is being abandoned. Jamie is captured. Price says the team should leave her.

Day 18.2; @aprilisthecruelestmonth: Abandonment Issues | "We can't leave them."

Ao3 or under the cut

Everyone in 141 knows about Jamie's mental struggles. One thing they don't know about us is Jamie's fear of being abandoned because everyone will get sick of her mental struggles.

Today, the team is on a mission to raid Makarov's hideout. They all know it will be a tough battle.

The battle against Makarov's soldiers was intense. 141 thought they had the upper hand until Makarov's soldiers surround Jamie, guns aimed at her. "I suggest you surrender before my soldiers kill her," Makarov warns. We're moving out!" Price orders. "We can't just leave them!" Soap argues. "I said we're moving out. That's an order!" Jamie watches everyone leave, which pleases Makarov. He knows they'll return to get Jamie, so he has time to break her and prepare to capture the rest of 141.

[artistcalledbella]

alt version of one of my prev

[temeyes]

thinking about dad!soap again

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

Working on Chibi!Call of Duty Modern Warfare characters for keychains and stickers that will be sold on Comifuro 19 ‼️‼️ MY FELLOW INDONS WHO'S COMING ⁉️⁉️ 🗣️🗣️🗣️

This is my first time designing keychains/stickers and selling stuff in a festival. I'm nervous but I'm confident HEHEHE

Who knows. I might open my own shop and sell these merchs internationally! (That's the dream for now 😂)

[continentalblue]

cod men + how they drive! :D

soap

He can't park to save his life so his car is always scratched up.

Rests his hand on your thigh as he drives, squeezing it when someone cuts him off.

He can't stand music while he drives so he usually has nature noises playing in the car.

If you fall asleep, he'll usually lean over and press a kiss to your cheek.

He keeps toilet paper, hand sanitizer, soap, and other associated hygiene items in the backseat because he's paranoid about using a public bathroom and not having any hygiene supplies.

Always stops and gets a drink for the pair of you.

Speeds a little bit.

ghost

He never actually bothered to learn how to drive properly.

His speed is "however fast I can go without hitting someone."

He weaves in and out of traffic.

He likes having you in his lap sometimes, but usually he parks you in the back. He figures, if he's going to rear-end someone, you'll be safer there.

He's a genius at parking and parallel parking.

His car windows are tinted so black that he can't actually see out of them, so they're also usually down.

He's prone to road rage so he usually squeezes your hand really tightly to avoid leaving his vehicle.

Runs red lights and stop signs.

Weaves in and out of traffic.

gaz

Easily the most responsible driver of the lot.

Drives the speed limit to the tee.

Plays soft jazz as he drives.

At every light he'll bring your hand up to his lips, kiss it, and then focus on driving again.

He likes to keep the window open when he drives.

He goes to the car wash daily and thoroughly cleans out his car every weekend.

Decent parker, parallel or otherwise.

price

His car is filled with McDonald's wrappers and empty coffee cups.

His car is pushing twenty years old, but it still works fine so he doesn't bother upgrading.

He plays CDs as he drives.

He taps his hands on the steering wheel at lights.

He speeds, but not enough to cause concern.

He's a whiz at finding parking spaces.

He holds your hand as he drives, occasionally leaning over to press a kiss to your cheek if he's stopped.

makarov

he cut the brakes out of his car.

Keeps you in his lap because if he dies, you die.

[codochka]

Say gex say gex say gex

[oilyfry]

[parkersbliss]

[littlemissclandestine]

Please please please, I wanna know how adler and makarov will comfort us, like hcs, I mean, please? I want sweet thing because am very sad

Howdy Anon! 🤠

Thank you so much for the ask! Sorry to hear you're not feeling great and hope you feel better soon. Wasn't sure whether you wanted platonic or romantic or whatnot so I just thought of a mix (kinda) i guess. Sending hugs and hope you enjoy! <33

════════════⋆★⋆════════════

---------------Russell Adler Comfort Hcs-----------------

So as you know, Adler isn't the type of guy to get all emotional (Feelings? What are feelings?) but there's no doubt he'd try to be there for you as best he can

He sometimes does stay silent. Mostly because he's just trying to figure out what to say and how to say it but it doesn't take too long for him to come up with something

He's a great listener for sure. You can rant to him about anything and he'll make you feel heard. Hell, he could probably even relate to it.

Phone calls to check up on you are a given -> "Right. I'm coming over. Promise me you won't do anything stupid in the meantime? Be there within the hour, okay?"

You might find yourself crying on the couch and he'd sit beside you. He'd probably place a hand on your thigh and give it a light squeeze as he asks you what's wrong

If you refuse to answer, he'll play some slow songs and pull you up and off the couch and into his arms to slow dance because he knows it'll earn a smile from you. He'll brush a stray piece of hair out the way and look into your eyes, telling you he loves you.

If you're really having a meltdown and you're in a right state, he'll pull you into his body, resting his chin on top of your head as he whispers words of encouragement to you, not caring that his favourite shirt is drenched. -> "That's it, just let it out. You're gonna be okay. I'm here, alright? Shhh. I'm not going anywhere."

If you're in public having a panic attack, he'd notice the signs. The way your watery eyes dart all over the place being hypervigilant of your surroundings, the way you cling to him a little more than usual, how you aren't responding to him, how your breathing is quick and you feel all clammy. It's his job to know.

He'd take you to the side and shield you as he talks you down. Maybe even take your hand and lead you to the public toilets, making sure it's clear to freshen up and have some space and privacy. -> "You ever heard of box breathing, kid?"

He'll take you back to his car for a long drive and offer you tissues and strike up a conversation, your favourite songs playing in the background while you steady your breathing

He'd hold your hands in his to ground you if need be and rub your arms and thighs as you sob violently, staying quiet, looking away and closing his eyes briefly as he hears you. He can't bare to see you like that.

Russell would also cup your face, wiping your tears away with his thumbs as he asks you to look at him and he calms you down with that low, husky voice of his. -> "You'll get through this, okay? Just like you always do. Only this time, you've got me. So let me take care of you."

He's one to always come up with solutions to your problems, no matter what it is

But he's also brutal. No sugarcoating.

════════════⋆★⋆════════════

-------------Vladimir Makarov Comfort Hcs-------------

I feel like, whereas Adler has more of a way with words and is someone who also gives you comfort through touch, Makarov mostly uses a more materialistic approach but that's not to say he doesn't use touch.

He'd ask if you wanted to go out shopping (retail therapy) where he'd spoil you crazy, letting you buy whatever you want. A dress? Sure. A watch? Of course. A diamond necklace? You got it.

Mak would take you on a helicopter ride for sure during the day or even night, letting you take in the sights.

Makarov may offer to take you out for dinner to your favourite place, getting his goons to make the reservation (or threaten someone to give up their reservation and hold the poor receptionist at gunpoint so you can get a table right there and then).

But don't get me wrong...he'd defo watch your comfort movie with you again, no matter how many times you've watched it. You both just cuddling on the couch with a blanket as he plants kisses on your temple.

He'd crouch down in front of you, rubbing your knees as he asks you what's troubling you. -> "What's got you crying my beloved? What do you need from me?"

He's defo a hand holder so he'll rub your hands and draw circles on your palms and intertwine his fingers with yours. -> "It's okay, my love. Breathe. Just breathe."

This guy loves giving forehead kisses and you can't tell me otherwise. His kisses linger and he rests his forehead against yours for sure as he talks you down.

As you two sleep, he'd be the big spoon, wrapping his arms around your body, keeping you close while he whispers words of praise and how you don't have to worry as he'll always take care of you.

If it's someone who's causing you problems, Makarov goes pew pew and calls it a day.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *

Note: I was a bit biased when it came to Adler. Whoops. Hope that's okay for now. I might edit this post and add some more when I can. Defo doing a part 2 to Adler's comfort hcs. This was a nice little exercise though. Always a pleasure to write for COD men ;) - Star ☆

[dezgasting]

i have literally stopped drawing anything at all. sorry

boring Makarov sketch while im farming cookie clicker

[mrsparrasblog]

MAKAROV X PRICE DAUGHTER Pt. 1

I know John Price would be the best Dad on earth but please let the Plot , ploting

Part 2

Your dad loved you; you were really sure he did, just not as much as he loved Tina, your younger sibling. You were the result of a one-night stand he had when he was 16, while Tina was a love child of your dad's new wife. You liked both of them; you really did. They treated you with respect; you stayed in their house while your dad was on deployment. So you couldn't really complain; they even let you stay while you did your apprenticeship, despite that you were over 20 now and full of age, but they made it clear: finish your apprenticeship and you're gone.

Your dad didn't say anything. Well, how could he, since he was always on some kind of mission, to save the planet or world? He was like a real-life Avenger. It just hurts sometimes when he misses certain events like your ballet performance, your appendix operation, your 18th birthday, and your graduation ceremony—the best of the whole year. But who cares about that when you have no one in the crowd to cheer for you?

The worst part? He did make time for Tina. He was at her elementary school graduation, at every birthday, and at her fencing competition, claiming it's not because he likes Tina more; it's just that fencing is more interesting than ballet. You would understand that, right? You were a good, smart girl. Of course, you would understand how important his job is, right? You're not a selfish little lady, he said.

For years, you thought he despised you, maybe because you were the spitting image of your dead mother or because you had the same interests as her but not like Tina. Tina was cool; she did fencing, wanted to join the military, and even got caught smoking weed. Your dad only laughed about this, telling her he did this too when he was young.

You and your dad didn't share the same interest; you liked everything that was hyper-feminine: ballet, pink, makeup, Taylor Swift. And you were becoming a midwife instead of a cool, badass soldier. His only expression was, "Are you sure, sweetie?" Of course, you were sure, and you thought your job was even more badass than his. You helped bring babies into the world; what could be better?

One day, you noticed he did love you. In fact, it was just harder to love someone at 17 than at 30, he said. He cried while saying this, begging you on his knees to forgive him for being such a crappy dad, and of course, you did. His affection and attention were almost like a drug to you; you didn't need weed when hearing "I'm proud of you, sweetie" did so much more to you.

It wasn't a surprise when you started to sleep with older men, craving the care and affection they could provide you with. The same affection you begged your whole life for. When your stepmother found out you got intimate with 40-year-old men every weekend, she told your dad, of course, that she did. And he was furious—more than furious. Giving you a lesson about safe sex—a bit too late for that, innit? And then he told you that he was disappointed in you, and it hurt even more than the neglect you needed to endure your whole life.

You were walking through the streets of Cardiff, enjoying the sight of your hometown; it was beautiful, especially at night. Suddenly, a man bumped into you—correct: the most handsome man you've ever seen in your life. He was tall with dark hair, mesmerizing eyes, tattoos and pale skin, and he was definitely old enough to be your type. Maybe that was the fairytale love story you ever dreamed of.

"I'm sorry, sir; my eyes aren't so strong in the dark."

He kissed your hand like you were some kind of royalty and smiled with the most charming smile. "A pretty girl like you shouldn't have to apologize," he said with a thick, beautiful Russian accent.

"Thank you, sir."

"Call me Vlad, princess," he said, and you told him your name, to which he replied that it was the most beautiful name he ever heard.

"Let me walk you home, princess. It's dangerous for a beautiful girl like you to walk on her own," he said with a cheeky grin.

"So you're from Russia? How is it there?"

"Beautiful; the nature is stunning. I live in Moscow, and you would love the architecture."

"I bet I would love it. If I have the opportunity to travel someday, I definitely will."

"Where would you go first, princess?"

"Hm, New York or maybe Sydney. No wait, the Alps. Ah, it's hard to decide, you?"

You mumbled while walking on the sidewalk; you didn't know why, but you felt safe like never before. Not even the dogs barked at him; he had this dark presence about him, but how he talked and behaved, letting you walk further away from the sidewalk, lending you his jacket, and caressing your finger with his thumb, made you feel safe and appreciated.

"I was almost everywhere in the world, but if I could decide, I'd say Moscow."

"Doesn't count; you live there." You pointed your tongue at him and threw a giggling fit.

"And who are you to decide this?"

"Like you said, a princess."

"And what does your Highness want?"

"Hm, ice cream."

You went to an ice cream place, both of you picking out an ice cream flavor; he insisted that he pay for your £2 ice like a gentleman, and you laughed.

"You're weird; chocolate-mint ice is a disgrace."

"It is good; taste it?"

"I won't."

You smeared the ice around your plump lips. "You sure don't want a taste now," you said, hinting at a kiss. He smirked and leaned in for a kiss. His lips were gentle, but there was so much passion behind the kiss and so much longing that you immediately moaned, making a fool of yourself. After what felt like hours, you split, trying to catch your breath.

"that was-"

"Intense"

You nodded before pulling into another kiss. The 10-minute walk home took 3 hours since you stopped every second, demanding his attention, and he gave it to you so willingly. You arrived at your door.

"So this is my door."

He kissed you one last time, "Sorry Princess," and then he pulled you into him, holding something against your nose, but before you could react, you were already far gone.

You brought him to your place, Price's house, with what he wanted; he wanted to kill every three of you, make a massacre, and then leave them for Price to see. But you were confusing him; he liked your presence; sure, he was just a man, and he knew you were the type of woman he watched when beating his meat, but normally attractiveness wouldn't affect him, especially not with Price's daughter. But you were nice to him even though you didn't know he was fucking Vladimir Makarov, so his plan changed; he needed to break you or have you and then rub it under Price's face that you were his now.

[local-crying-boy]

🅅🄻🄰🄳🄸🄼🄸🅁 🄼🄰🄺🄰🅁🄾🅅

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

𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 - 𝔻𝕒𝕪 13

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚅𝚕𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚛 𝙼𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚟 𝚡 𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚝: 𝙳𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚢𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙳𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚢𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊 (𝙾𝚋𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚕𝚢), 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚍𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘��

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 974

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

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

[stray-cat-with-internet-access]

Julian Kostov

[sleepyconfusedpotato]

Makarov in "The Lobby"

Just a sketch before I sleep! Took this opportunity to study Julian Kostov's face and I think I'm getting the hang of it 👌

---

Am I highkey seeing Makarov as another Vampire in Halloween AU? 👀 Imagine Makarov being a much stronger vampire than Price because he's been consuming human blood non-stop without remorse. And now in order to defeat Mak, Price has to break his oath and start consuming human blood again 👁️👁️.

Here's some timelapse and hope you love it! *(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭*ଘ

Tip Jar ✨

[blingblong55]

His pretty girl -Vladimir Makarov

Based on a request:

I looved ur makarov fic n im here to request smth else w him, there's barely anything w him its sad How would makarov treat his dear wife when she's sick? I'm kinda sick rn so.. : 3 ---- F!Reader, wife!reader, husband!Makarov, nothing but fluff ----

A/N: short but good…I hope…

Vladimir was gone for some weeks. He couldn't come in contact with you so when you didn't show up to greet him he was worried. The drive home was usually calm but this time, he rushed it. Avoided all cars and soon, ran inside. The image he saw before his eyes, oh did it melt him. You were curled on the couch. The blanket slowly falls off your body. Used tissues all over the coffee table and floor. The tea was cold and your soft breathing gave him even more reason to clean the area as quietly as possible. Your shared bedroom was cleaned, all dishes washed and then he carried you to bed. The medication you took to sleep was so strong you didn't know he even carried you to bed. That entire night, he checked your temperature, kissed your forehead and held you against his chest.

When you got sick, the first time, he panicked, called a doctor and yelled at him when he said that all you needed to do was drink tea and take it easy. Now, knowing his pretty little wife too well, he knows all he needs to do. 8 am, have breakfast ready, with tea on the side and orange juice just in case you want that one more and it must be room temperature, not cold. He must put on some video as you eat because you like to catch up on some show as you eat. You like wearing his shirts more because you swear it makes you feel better, which is bullshit because he knows you like to just have a reason to wear his clothes.

He must wash all dishes, not complain about being tired because how dare he. Makarov knows this well mainly because it worked the first 4 times and this time it is the same. After breakfast, washing dishes, he has to take you on a walk, the air, the way you smile, oh he knows the fresh air helps that stuff nose and he also gets even more private time with you.

Lunch for a day or two is chicken soup, his grandmothers since he knows you loved it any time you were sick. Kisses on your forehead all day is a must, you know that. If you groan and push him away, he gives you a little frown and moves closer. "You know kisses are a part of the remedy, my pretty girl." He grins when you give him your lazy smile. Your face is hot from both the fever and from his lips. Once he and you eat lunch, he cleans the home and don't you dare walk to the bedroom, he has made it clear he needs to clean and sanitise the bed.

If he has a meeting, he doesn't go to it, it's over the phone as he is in bed and has you cuddled to him. You can't argue against it. Your husband must give cuddles while on the phone. It's a rule at this point.

At night, he makes dinner, makes sure it all tastes wonderful and then feeds it to you since wrapping you in a burrito can't let your hands move. It's a funny but cute image. You, sat on the couch, blanket wrapped around you which makes you look like a cute little bug as your husband feeds you dinner. Oh, the frowns and pouts you give to his giggle and laughter won't help, he just adores you this way.

After dinner, more cuddles and kisses come by. He calls it 'kiss the sick away.' When you lean on him he knows this is to sleep but he can't allow over 3 naps per day when you're sick. So, he carries you to the bathroom. Gives you your medicine, and takes the blankets, clothes and anything in between off you. The bath was set to a very comfortable temperature.

He undresses too and once he has both of you in the bath, he kisses your shoulders. Your warm back on his chest as he cleans your body with so much gentleness it has you leaning on him and smiling. "That's what you needed huh, pretty girl," he kisses your wet shoulder again and wraps his arms around you. You kiss his bicep and he chuckles. "Don't start, my love," he whispers. The lights dimmed, him and you…this is the perfect way to get better. He hums a song, the same one he married you to and the same one he hums when he is far from home.

"I love you, pretty girl," he whispers and kisses the nape of your neck. "I love you more," you whisper back. "We both know who wins this, so do you want to start this game?" He kisses your neck again and chuckles. In moments like this, in which the world is kind and calm, he appreciates life like any normal person would. "You always win, i want to win this time." You pout and know damn well he can't say no to his pretty wife. "Fine, you win this time but we both know I have a long winning streak in this game." He grabs your hand and kisses it. In his head, he already won. And in this life, he truly did.

A/N: Makarov and Ghost are the kind of man to give me a Hozier song kind of vibe and that is what feeds my fluff brain

Tags:

@makarovsbbg @sans-chara @selarus @liyanahelena @hilmiponken @personwhosucksassatmath @undercover-smutlover @ontopofyourceiling @kielsegur @johfamm0 @goldenmclaren @moonsua1 @rivivienner @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @alxexhearts @baldwinhearts @strangepuppynightmare