#just the thought of Ghost going through hell and back to find a captured Soap
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solivagantingrebel · 1 year ago
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I... I haven't gotten over that one render that has Soap tied up and blind folded and Ghost is just. tenderly kissing him. Mask-less. I'm
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ltghosty · 1 year ago
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If only you would have trusted me (Simon "Ghost" Riley  Female "Cobra" Sergeant)
A/N: MW 3 broke me, don't talk to me
Summary: Makarov blackmailed you into joining his army and Task Force 141 thinks you betrayed them without hesitation. Once Ghost and Soap find Milena and you, Ghost finally confronts you about letting him down.
Warnings: curse, angst, guilt, fight, betrayal,
Wordcount: 4.7k
”I thought I was someone whom you could trust because you can be sure as hell that I still trust you with my life. Whether you like it or not."
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You knew this moment was coming once Laswell had let you know that Makarov escaped the gulag and was on the move.
You didn’t want it to happen but your job wasn’t famous for making guarantees. Especially with crazy terrorists who wouldn’t stop until the world fell to its knees in front of them.
And Makarov was just like that.
Ruthless, smart, cruel and unpredictable.
While running from location to location, you started to feel getting lost. There were too many dead ends while Makarov was playing with Task Force 141 as he’d wished.
Ghost noticed how much you’d changed since Makarov broke out and wasted no time in getting his hands dirty.
You’d heard stories of him before Price and Soap managed to capture him once 4 years ago which ended in agony and cost a lot of innocent lives. You’d dealt with all kinds of criminals who wanted to build their throne out of corpses but Makarov was by far the worst and most dangerous one.
 With each mission you’d went to with the others, the less your voice could be heard. You were silent and kept checking every corner while wondering how could you finally make a step forward.
There were times when you were seated with Ghost and his favorite sniper to watch the others’ back, and while laying on the ground for hours, the lieutenant tried to get you to talk but you weren’t too bulged.
You hadn’t noticed because you were too focused on your task but Ghost always kept an eye on you when you were in his sight. He’d seen this kind of dedication before, so he understood where your change of heart had come from but he didn’t want you to completely forget who you truly were before.
He’d hated to admit but he would have done anything to bring you back to the surface. It’s been too long since he had heard your laugh or seen your beautiful smile. Hell, he even started to miss those moments when you’d happily join Soap and push his buttons while making fun of Brits.
Ghost couldn’t stand your silence, he liked listening to your voice even while you were only making small chats with him through the coms.
What Ghost had never expected – or anyone else for that matter – was you suddenly disappearing without a word and hearing from a source that you’ve been seen on Makarov’s side.
At first, he was confused and kept denying it but when Price told him that it wasn’t some sort of plan for you to get involved with the Russians, Ghost felt like someone punched him in the chest.
You’d left willingly without a word, and the next thing he knew, you were working under the hands of the enemy.
He was overwhelmed with your betrayal, he was sad, furious, and desperate to find an explanation for your treachery.
What Ghost and the others didn’t know was that Makarov had his eye on you since he escaped from the gulag. Firmly, because you knew Milena from before, and she knew that you were an unstoppable sergeant.
Makarov wanted to break Task Force 141 from the inside before he would grab a gun to put a bullet into everyone’s head, so he ordered his men to do their research on you.
It didn’t take them too long to find your family, even though you tried your best over the years to make it seem like you didn’t have them. You’d never once talked to anyone about your sister and mother who always waited for you to go home, who were always worried about you whenever you departed and had been gone for months while fighting terrorists.
For the first time in your life you didn’t know what to do, you wanted to tell Price and the others that Makarov had captured your family and gave you no choice but the Russian’s intentions were crystal clear. If you’d told anyone about this, he’d kill your family and would blame it all on Task Force 141.
You even thought about telling Ghost that Makarov had found you and backed you in the corner but you knew if the lieutenant would have found out about any of this, he’d never let you go.
Ever since you joined Makarov, the guilt has been eating you from inside, especially whenever your friends’ name was thrown around as Makarov was planning his next move.
Makarov has been calling you ’Rynda’ ever since you gave yourself up to him which you absolutely despised. Since you were his only living connection to Task Force 141, he’d given you the task of always letting him know what the special forces’s next move might be.
”Like the bell ringing when danger is around the corner,” Makarov had said back then with a wicked smile on his lips. ”I don’t want you to disappoint me, Rynda.”
”I won’t.”
Your words might have caused satisfaction in the man but your tongue was burning with the forced promise you’d had to make to him. Your skin was crawling each time he touched you and his voice crept through your ears like venom.
You hated being Milena’s present. Makarov didn’t want any women on the battlefield but he admired your strength and skills, so he ordered you to always stick to Milena and watch her back. Without his financial support, he would have had some problems getting into this whole capture-or-kill scenario.
Milena always made a sound of her whines about how she hated that you were practically babysitting her. Don’t worry, I hate it too, you’d thought.
Whenever you were alone you missed the guys, missed Price being a father figure to you, missed Gaz making fun of your looks after a horribly executed plan, missed Soap teaching you Scottish, and missed Ghost for
 for being himself and keeping you under his wing.
”I admire your dedication, really,” Milena called from the other side of the room.
”Do you?”
Milena glanced up from her papers and searched your face.
”Yes, I’m surprised you betrayed your people right away and did everything Vladimir ordered you to.”
”He didn’t give me much of a choice, did he?” you asked and crossed your arms. You hated that she was able to think that you betrayed your second family easily while in reality, it was wearing you down in every way possible.
You were sure you’d never be able to look into their eyes if you saw them again.
”He knows how to win people over.”
You cleared your throat and narrowed your eyes.
”Or to force them to do something that would benefit him.”
Milena was one delusional woman, you were sure of that. You hated how spineless she was and how easily she could get under your skin within seconds.
If Makarov wasn’t so intimidating then you would have already punched her whenever she said a bad word to you. You would have enjoyed it for sure.
Gunshots and shouting emerged from the other side of the building which made you tense right away.
”What the hell?” Milena asked as she stood up and walked to the wall where the security cameras were shown.
You took a few steps, examining the figures that appeared, and felt the color drain from your face.
You wished you would have mistook them for someone else but after serving with them for years, there was no way you wouldn’t recognize them.
It was Soap and Ghost.
Your heart was hammering in your chest, and your stomach turned when you saw Soap getting closer and closer to the door that stood behind you.
With trembling hands, you grabbed your gun and spun on your heel just when the Scots opened the door.
”Special forces, show your hands!”
Raising your guns at the same time, you faced your best friend whose eyes softened the second they found you.
”Cobra
”
It’s been so long since anyone called you that, you almost dropped your gun.
Then you forced yourself to remember your family whose life was on you and how you act now, so you tightened your grip on the cold metal.
”I’d advise you to turn around and leave, Soap.”
Soap lowered his gun while his face dropped in sadness. Your voice was cold and distant, something you’d never used toward him before. You’d only given this treatment to your enemies.
”That’s not going to happen, you know it.”
”I’ll shoot you,” you said, trying to hide your nervousness as he kept your stare.
”You won’t.”
Gritting your teeth, you took a step forward, keeping the gun at him as Milena looked at you in fury.
”What are you waiting for? Shoot him for fuck’s sake!”
No matter how hard you tried, your finger couldn’t touch the trigger. Your heart didn’t let that happen.
Memories flooded and invaded your mind as you looked at John MacTavish who was your favorite partner in crime. Moments of him making you laugh and calming you down after losing a battle made your hands shake in defeat.
You didn’t want to do any of this but you had no choice.
When Soap realized you were not going to shoot him, he let out a small sigh, grabbed one of the chairs, and pushed it forward, his eyes finding Milena.
”Sit.”
You didn’t want to admit but you missed the way Soap could talk coldly to those who were on the other side.
”Fuck you.” Milena spat in hatred.
Soap kept his gaze and gun firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.
”Sit down, Milena.”
Milena gave you a deadly glare before dropping her hands and taking a seat. You couldn’t say a word, it seemed like your voice ceased to exist.
”Where is your boss?” Soap asked sharply.
”I don’t have a boss. No one tells me what to do.” Milena said and you almost scoffed. Only if her words were true.
Soap glared at her for a while before turning around when heavy footsteps broke the silence. You lowered your hands, sweat appearing on your skin as you noticed a familiar tall figure moving in the shadows.
Soap turned around when Ghost walked through the door with a laptop in his hand.
”She’s not talking.”
As Ghost’s familiar dark eyes met yours, he stopped walking and you felt your heart skip a beat. Just like every other time he’d looked at you, you felt exposed and small.
Ghost’s eyes never left you as you tried to catch your breath. His eyes held many emotions, such as surprise, melancholy, and distance.
You hated the way he was looking at you like you were someone else. Like you weren’t someone who was close to him like you weren’t the sergeant who was never afraid to be honest and open with him.
Before you could realize that there was nowhere to run from him, he blinked and walked over to the table.
”She’s about to,” he grunted and put the laptop down on the table, and walked to the other side of the room.
Not wanting to look into his eyes again, you focused on Soap who opened the white laptop and extended his hand to Milena who was sitting still like a rock.
”Give me your hand.”
”Why? Or else you’ll cut it off?” Milena asked.
”Your friend over there knows that it’s true when I say to you that it’s not my style,” Soap said glancing at you from the corner of his eyes. Then tilted his head in Ghost’s direction. ”He might.”
Milena seemed to lose her patience with each second that passed by.
”Why the mask?” she snapped.
You almost rolled your eyes at the question you seemed to hear a million times.
”To hide my face.” Ghost answered with cold eyes.
You were surprised he answered even though it was an obvious and useless response.
You felt Ghost’s eyes finding you again, making your skin burn as you dropped your gaze. You were intimidated by his presence and not because you were afraid of him but because you knew for sure that you hurt his feelings when you left.
You wished you weren’t here to live through this unwanted confrontation. A part of you was happy to see them but your heart was aching by the disappointed and hurtful looks you received from them.
”Cobra.” Ghost called after you as you turned your head away. His voice reached your bones immediately and you hated how much you missed your callsign falling off his lips.
”Don’t call me that,” you said dryly, turning back to him.
Ghost gave you a challenging look as he pushed himself away from the wall and closed the distance between you two. With each step he took, you felt your chest tighten with anticipation and guilt. You wanted to look somewhere else but he firmly held your gaze.
He always did and that hasn’t changed.
”How about we give these two birds a few minutes to find a way to cooperate with each other?” Ghost asked and you felt your eyes widen.
”I’m not leaving Milena.”
Ghost gave you a meaningful look and took the gun from your hand with such ease that wasn’t surprising to either of you.
”Yes, you are.”
Remembering that you weren’t supposed to leave Milena’s sight for even a second, you felt panic and annoyance wash over you.
”You can’t just order me around. Not anymore.” You said in a cold tone that made Ghost shift in his place.
Without saying a word, he grabbed your elbow and pulled you with him as he made his way to the other door that led to another empty room.
”Hey! Get your fucking hand off of me!” You shouted in frustration and tried to free yourself from his grasp but Ghost easily dragged you with him through the door and kicked it shut with his foot.
You let out a desperate groan as you grabbed his wrist, trying to pry it off of your arm which seemed tiny compared to his.
You bit into your lower lip as you tried your best to move his fingers but he wasn’t moving an inch.
”Cobra
” his voice was calmer and more thoughtful now that you were alone with him.
You didn’t look at him, only let out a defeated sigh and stopped fighting, your skin slightly aching.
”This hurts.”
Ghost glanced down at his hand still holding onto you and let go of you the second you’d admitted your physical pain. Hurting you was something he never intended to do.
Hissing, you brought your arm to your chest and touched it with your other hand, and turned away from him. You didn’t trust yourself when he was alone with you.
”What are you doing, Cobra?” Ghost asked from behind you and you closed your eyes. Hearing confusion and disappointment hiding in his voice made you feel guiltier than before.
”That’s none of your concern anymore, Ghost.” You replied still facing the wall.
Taking deep breaths you tried your best to collect your thoughts as you heard him walk closer to you, dropping your gun to the table standing next to you.
”It is.”
His voice circled around you like clouds darkening the sky before the storm.
”Why did you leave?”
You pressed your lips against each other and turned around. You got used to his menacing presence coming firstly from his height. You felt small and weak because you knew he could see right through you.
”People change, Lieutenant. You better get used to it.”
”People change that’s for sure. But don’t betray and stab others in the back just like that. A decision like this never comes from a single thought.”
You hated how much he tried to get into your mind, still trying to find answers to his questions that have probably been burning in him since the day you left.
”I refuse to believe that after everything that happened, you’d willingly just switch sides, I know you. And I know how much you despise traitors,” his eyes never left you as he was speaking.
You didn’t say a word, not when you were on the edge of breaking down.
”Talk to me, Cobra.” Ghost said, his voice quiet.
”I can’t,” you shook your head. ”Why don’t you just do your job and get out of here?”
”I’m not leaving until you say something to me.”
”There is nothing for me to say, especially to you.”
Ghost felt his chest tighten at your coldness. He would have never expected you to speak to him this way. Not after how long it took for you two to finally let your guard down around each other.
”Don’t say things you don’t mean.”
”I do, Ghost. Believe it or not, I’m not part of the special forces anymore, so either shoot me or get out of my face.”
”You really think I’d hurt you?” he asked, his voice low and sad.
”You eliminate targets and now I’m one too,” you crossed your arms, trying to look confident.
”I know why you’re pushing me,” he narrowed his eyes. ”And I know for sure that you didn’t betray us because you felt like you could. I know there is something behind all of this that you refuse to tell me.”
You didn’t answer and that was more than enough for him to confirm his theory about you.
”What happened, Cobra?”
”I left and now I’m one of Makarov’s people, that’s what happened!”
You were desperate to try to get him out of here because your heart was breaking with each word that was exchanged between you two.
”No, don’t even say that. I know who you are.”
”You don’t, Simon. Just get over it and let me go,” you snapped and his gaze dropped for a brief second. You didn’t even realize at first that you called him by his real name until you saw the change in his eyes.
It seemed like your words had made a final straw in Simon’s heart. You hated yourself for talking to him like that and you wished you could go back to them, to him, and forget about this nightmare you’d fallen into.
”I thought I was someone whom you could trust because you can be sure as hell that I still trust you with my life. Whether you like it or not."
His words made more impact on you than they should have. They meant the world to you and knowing that even after turning your back on him, he still trusted you and wanted you to go back.
”I trusted you.”
Trusted you. Past tense which didn’t go unnoticed by him.
”You didn’t if you could leave me like I was nothing to you.” Ghost confronted you with raw honesty, not even hiding the fact of how much your decision had pained him.
”It wasn’t easy,” you admitted, hugging your stomach and your eyes filling with unwanted tears. You hated if someone saw the vulnerable side of you, you hated being vulnerable but around Ghost, you knew he wouldn’t use your pain against you. Never.
Ghost stepped closer to you, making it impossible to look at anything else but him. When he heard your voice tremble and saw your eyes become glossy, he knew he meant something to you after all.
Lifting his hand, he put his index finger under your jaw and made you look at him. His eyes mirrored his emotions as he watched you slowly letting go of the invisible mask you’d hidden behind.
”You don’t need to keep anything from me, Cobra. Have I ever broken your trust and let you down?”
You swallowed the lump in your throat as a lonely tear escaped and rolled down on your hot skin.
When you slowly shook your head, he dipped his to your level.
”Then tell me. Please.”
Swallowing your doubts, you took a shaky breath, his hand still on you.
”He’ll kill me.”
”I won’t let that happen,” Ghost promised it without a second thought.
The words were on the tip of your tongue, almost jumping down. You hated to keep secrets from anyone, especially from Simon who had proven himself worthy of your trust more than once.
”Cobra, I can’t help if you don’t let me,” he continued with sad eyes and wiped your face.
It surprised you how a tall giant like him who had a name for his ruthless methods and interrogation scenes, could act so soft and careful with you.
It was hard to believe that the hand that was confronting you and wiping away your tears had killed so many people before.
With your lower lip quivering, you felt your fear taking over you, making your knees shake. Ghost watched you with worried eyes as you let out a sob you couldn’t hold back anymore and jumped into his arms, hiding your face into his neck.
As you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, you felt the heat coming off of his body, his tenseness slowly fading away once he’d realized what you were doing.
Ghost embraced your hug, his big arms wrapping around you like a shield, silently promising to keep you safe. He felt your scent filling his nose and his heart slowing down as your bodies pressed against each other’s.
”He has my family, Simon. He’ll kill them if I don’t obey his orders,” you sobbed in pure panic, your small hands holding onto him.
Ghost exhaled and tightened his grip around you, his head dropping onto yours with ease.
”Shh
 I’m here,” he scooted you as you let your tears fall onto his gear.
”I couldn’t tell anyone and he made me swear to leave you or else
”
Ghost didn’t say it was okay or that it would be all right. Because he wasn’t sure if he could keep his promise if he’d told you something you wanted to hear at the moment.
So, he just kept you in his arms and rubbed your back while his heart came to peace now that he knew the real reason why you left them.
”I’m sorry, I’m so sorry
”
”Hey, hey
” Ghost pulled you away slightly so that he could look into your eyes.
When you glanced up at him, his eyes didn’t make you feel anxious like a few minutes ago, they made you realize you weren’t alone and that he wasn’t blaming you for anything.
”Don’t be sorry, family comes first.” Ghost answered. ”You did what you have to, I understand.”
”But you’re also my family,” you whispered in a defeated tone and his eyes softened.
”It’s okay, Cobra. I’m not mad, I could never be mad at you,” he admitted and pulled you into his chest, his hand caressing your hair.
You sniffed and hid your face in his chest, wishing you could wake up from this nightmare.
But unfortunately, you were awake. You have been this whole time and there was no turning back from now.
”I wish you would have told me without running away,” he said quietly. ”I understand why you did it, I just wish you would have told me.”
”I wanted to,” you admitted, your voice small and vulnerable.
”Why didn’t you then?” he asked, still holding you against his chest.
You sighed and wiped your flushed face, your other hand still around his waist.
”I was afraid you wouldn’t have let me leave.”
”You’re fucking right I wouldn’t have let you do that,” he agreed immediately, causing you to giggle.
Ghost felt warmness fill his chest at your almost laugh, making it easier for him to breathe now that you were in his arms and let yourself smile.
He missed you, a lot.
”I trust you, Simon. You know, I do.”
He hummed as he let his fingertips dance on your skin a little.
”It was hard to believe otherwise when I woke up to you missing one day.”
The familiar feeling of guilt made your expression drop and your brows furrow. You really wished things would have been different.
You hated yourself for making Ghost feel like he didn’t mean anything to you. You hated yourself for making him almost lose his faith in you.
”I’d tell you that you’re coming back with us but something tells me you won’t.”
You stepped away from him, letting go of his torso with defeated eyes.
”He’ll kill them, I can’t go with you,” you said sadly. You’d never felt so lost and desperate before and Simon could see that in your eyes.
”So, what
” his voice trailed off. ”You’re just going to stay by his side and do whatever the fuck he wants you to?”
”It’s not like I want to work for him, Simon. But I have no choice.”
”We’ll figure something out,” he replied.
You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair in frustration.
”You can’t, you know it.”
Ghost shook his head. ”No, there has to be a way
 We have to do something before he kills you.”
”I appreciate your concern but there’s nothing you can do for me,” you whispered in a hoarse voice.
Ghost stared at you while hundreds of thoughts had run through his mind, wondering if there was a way he could help you. Hoping he could say or do something that would make you feel better.
”I have to do something
 I can’t lose you again, I won’t.”
His words made your heart almost jump out of your chest while he massaged the back of his neck. You felt physically weak at the plea of his voice while he was trying to find a solution.
But there was none.
Not when Makarov had his chains on you like on a dog.
”I’ll be fine, just go.”
Ghost looked at you with hesitation.
”I can’t, Cobra. What if I won’t see you again?”
Wiping your eyes, you took a shaky breath. Him trying to get you out of this just made the whole situation more unbearable.
”We knew what we were signing up for when we joined the special forces, Lt.”
Ghost felt his heart starting to ache in sadness as he took your defeated and exhausted sight in. You weren’t the woman who once made a race with him about getting more kills on a mission or not.
You were only a shadow of yourself and he hated to see you this way.
He would have done anything to be able to take you back with him to the base and never let you go.
It terrified him how lost he’d felt when you left the team, he could still remember how he’d stare at the ceiling of his room, wondering if he’d ever see you again.
”Don’t talk like that, Cobra.” Ghost scolded you. ”Now is not the time.”
”You know I might end up getting killed after all.”
”Don’t.” Ghost said in a stern voice, his body tensing at your words. ”Nobody is dying. Not on my watch and I’m going to keep my word.”
It made you feel better to know that Ghost didn’t hold anything against you. Your soul found peace now that he knew the why behind your decisions and betrayal. It killed you that you couldn’t go home with him and Soap.
Ghost stepped closer to you and waited for you to look into his dark eyes that led you directly to his soul.
”I’m going to get you out of this, Cobra. I promise. I’m not leaving anyone behind, especially you.”
His promise made you forget the danger that was around the corner and just for a brief second you were happy to let yourself believe what Ghost was saying.
”You better not to, lieutenant.”
Ghost huffed and touched the side of your face, his thumb softly caressing your skin. Closing your eyes, you leaned into his touch and forgot how to breathe for a moment.
Simon Riley was famous for a lot of things and keeping his promise was one of them. That was the only thing that helped you come to peace with the things you were forced to do in order to protect your family.
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soaps-hoe-141 · 1 year ago
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Drowning In The Depths
Sorry it took me so long yall, I have been sick af and with school starting back it is kicking my ass. Gotta love them STEM degrees, know what I mean?
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Part 12
Pairing: Captain Price x Male!Reader
WC: 18.3k
Synopsis: Who said Price gotta be the Captain all the time? I am so sorry in advance
Warnings: NSFW 18+ smut, blood, canon typical violence
Darkness swallowed the team as everyone jostled against one another in the back. Well, almost everyone. Price and Gaz had both taken up positions in buildings on the North and South sides of the building in their individual sniper’s nest. Fuckin snipers. You had to stop yourself from snickering at the thought of the two of them laying on the floor the past day as if they were statues. It couldn’t be comfortable, that was for sure. 
You stopped yourself though, sniffing as you reached up to wipe at your nose and look around the dark compartment of the van. Konig was sitting next to you on the bench the team had apparently earned after your last successful mission. It certainly made the ride more comfortable as Watcher navigated through the darkened and ghostly quiet streets outside. The terrible thunderstorms overhead were the cause of it this time, and just as the thought crossed your mind a strike of lightning flashed just over Konig’s head where you could just barely see the windshield of the van. His dark hood was hanging loose as he leaned forward between the front two seats to whisper quietly with the young man who was driving, deep in conversation as he took another turn.
Meanwhile Soap and Ghost sat on the bench across from y’all. The bigger man had his knife out as he meticulously, or rather obsessively, honed the edge to a razor-like finish. His black gloved finger ran over the spine of the knife, catching on the serrations that were closer to the hilt before his gaze shot up to find you. The man truly had a sixth sense and it was beyond freaky now. Hazel eyes narrowed into slits as he caught you staring, a smattering of thoughts were undoubtedly going on behind that sharp gaze, before Soap captured his attention completely by tapping his knee against Ghost’s and whispering something into the other man’s ear. The Ghost-whisperer it would seem for he had tamed the wild beast in front of you with merely a touch and a couple words.
The big one certainly had his death stare mastered though, good lord. Your head shook subtly as you suppressed a shiver before you shifted back along the bench and leaned forward with your rifle laying across your thighs while Cerberus laid underneath the bench right beneath you. His nose knocked against your calf as he lifted his head to find your gaze, a slight tilt to it as he expected some command to come from you. There was nothing to tell him right now, not yet anyway. When no order came though the Dutch Shepherd’s tongue lolled for a moment until you reached down to run your fingers over his brindle fur. You could feel the weight of his head as it pressed into your palm for a quick moment. His head fell back to his paws a moment later and you leaned back into the wall of the van as you took a deep breath.
This drive was becoming anxiety inducing as another wheel dipped into a pothole and the thunder rumbled overhead. It felt almost like something was coming to a head, like the crescendo of a song was nearing and you could feel the melody of it in your very soul. The vibrations of an orchestra in the strings of energy that surrounded you and had you sitting on the edge of your seat even as you actively tried to calm yourself down, breathing as deep as you could.
Why was this making you so nervous anyway? You’d gone after plenty of the worst this world had to offer. Amaan was so far from tipping the scales of lecherous actions you’d been witness to that it wasn’t even funny. Hell you’d been right next to the fucking Admiral on that bastard’s worst days. Even on his good days Amaan was far from the worst in comparison to that demon. Al-Mustafa could have been a fucking angel when he was standing next to him, and yet here you were having to actively stop your knee from bouncing while also forcing yourself to put on the persona that was Speck. Not yourself, but the man you were expected to be in this situation. The operator. Master Chief. Your role.
Suddenly the answer to your question hit you like a slap in the face. Back then, when you had been faced with the Admiral, his heinous crimes, and your own very obvious mortality, you’d had nothing to lose. Everything you’d worked for had been stripped from you and your decisions and past had left you devoid of anything to care for. Your family, your job, your home, every cent to your fucking name had been thrust into the incinerator and you’d lost it at the drop of a hat.
Everything had changed now, you had someone, something, to stay alive for and to come back to. It was going to cloud your judgment. You knew that all too well. Hell it already had been affecting your judgment over the past days that you had been digging yourself deeper and deeper into the trench that was Captain John Price. It would only get worse from here on out and you found that the little voice that always told you not to get attached was surprisingly silent.
John Price was an addiction that even your subconscious would forever be unable to shake. You were bound and determined that the only thing that could tear you from him at this point was death itself and you’d put up a fight with any god or ferryman who came after you. Death had, had his chance to take you once before and he’d fucked it up. That fucker wasn’t getting you any time soon if you had anything to say about it. Besides who wouldn’t fight for those beautiful blue eyes and that endearing smirk when he knew he had you right where-
Stop thinking about him, Speck. There was a fucking job to do. Slowly you found your eyes turning to your left where the seat on the bench next to you sat empty. Where he would have been if it wasn’t for the fact he was already in position. A part of you was already missing him and it hadn’t even been that long. You craved the way his calloused fingers slid along your arm, the way his lips felt pressed against yours. The way his striking blue eyes pierced your very soul as he looked down at you with sweat dripping off the tip of his nose. Those quiet words of praise falling from between his lips, amongst other, dirtier words that had your cheeks warming in an instant even now as you sat in the back seat of the van.
A hard shove against your shoulder nearly pushed you sideways on the bench as you blinked a few times and your eyes focused on the other men around you. “You’re listening, ja?” You could almost see the raised eyebrows beneath the hood, the way his forehead creased sometimes when he only had his facemask on. Price’s forehead had lines like that, though his were a bit deeper and a bit more mature in appearance whenever his brows furrowed. Oh and the way the corners of his eyes creased whenever he smiled and made his typically serious face a bit more hospitable when he looked at you.
Fuck, Speck, would you pay attention? “Yes sir, I’m listenin’,'' your accent slipped out as you tried to pull yourself out of your foggy thoughts. You caught the attention of the other two men sitting in the back of the van as well as the southern twang lilted into your words. A moment of distraction and a shard of your past revealed, though they may have been jokesters and enjoyed a good laugh that in no way meant that they were stupid. They paid attention and they noticed the smallest of details, it was in fact what made all of you so great in the field.
Not a word was spoken though
Thankfully. Your past, your heritage, wasn’t exactly something you liked to advertise, it could ruin the idea of who you were. What you were. The idea that you were a chameleon would disappear in a cloud of smoke if they really started to hear that twang that was hidden so well in your voice. Or so you always told yourself anyway.
Ghost grunted out a quick, “We’re a minute out,” as he stood up from his and Soap’s bench. Shit you’d lost track of the time. You quickly followed suit as you stood up and pulled a magazine out of the tac vest before sliding it into the magazine well. It took only a quick pull of the charging handle to chamber a bullet from the magazine and you glanced quickly towards where Ghost was already unlatching the panel that had closed you all into the back. “Thirty seconds,” his voice rasped out into your ear as the van slowed to a stop and Watcher shut the panel between the front seats.
You clipped Cerberus’ lead on before you did a quick check of his gear, tightening the straps on his harness that wrapped underneath his belly. A moment later you joined the other three men at the two back doors. When the lock clicked on the outside the door opened a second later and Ghost jumped down beside the small ginger. The rest of y’all followed close behind the big man with Watcher bringing up the rear. The door shut behind you, though you couldn’t hear it over the pounding of the rain as the storm was raging around you now. You moved behind Konig with Soap on your left beside you.
The four of you lined up on either side of the door with Cerberus between your legs as you kneeled at Konig’s back and watched your side of the dark alley. The dog’s eyes were locked on you, you could feel their gaze as he awaited whatever command you were going to give him or even something as simple as if you were going to move. Watcher moved by you before he stopped to stand in front of a keypad and he plugged something into it. You could just barely hear him as he whispered something to himself and his mic picked it up, along with the sound of him typing numbers into the door’s lock.
It took a few moments before anyone finally started to move and when they did you weren’t surprised by the perpetrator in the slightest. A snort came from somewhere behind you though you heard it clearly in your ear just before a Scottish voice muttered under his breath, “Yer no singing right now are ye? Ye do know we’re in a bit a fuckin’ hurry, right?”
Just as fast as the questions slipped out of Soap’s mouth the quiet muttering stopped as well as the sounds of the young man pressing the buttons, both of them seeming to be distracrted by the other in this tense moment. Rain muted the sounds of shifting from behind you as you forced yourself to stay focused on the alley in front of you and not fall victim to the teasing these two were leveling at one another. “Aye, I am ye bastart. Ye can’t do any better, trust me we hear yer howlin’ every time we try to take a fuckin’ shower,” your brows lifted at the quiet words that came out of the smaller Scotsman. It wasn’t so much the words that had surprised you but the one who had said them.
Up until this point Watcher had been nothing but a sweet, innocent- as innocent as anyone on this team could be anyway -young man who might have seemed a bit too young but it wasn’t like he had ever seemed incapable, quite the opposite in fact. Watcher had been quiet maybe whenever everyone else was around, but never did he seem like the type to mouth off in the way he was now. Especially not to someone who was technically his superior even if Soap didn’t act like it sometimes. There were intricacies to the relationships in this team that you still hadn’t quite grasped it seemed.
“Well get on with it then Freckles, we don’t have all bloody night. It’s pishin’ it doon oot here,” you could hear the smile in his voice just before Ghost let out an exasperated sigh behind you directed at what you assumed to be both of the Scotsmen who were very nearly about to go at it in this fuckin alley if the annoyed huff from Watcher was anything to go by.
It didn’t seem either of them cared too much about the fact that rain was currently pouring down on y’all in fuckin buckets. It had soaked through your clothes nearly the moment you’d stepped out of the van and your equipment had been right behind it seconds later. There was no doubt in your mind if they kept it up, even your waterproof boots were going to give way to the torrential downpour overhead and you hated the feel of wet socks. That wasn’t even mentioning how bad Cerberus was gonna be stinking after this operation.
Just before the tension broke and shit hit the fan though a deep voice came over your ear piece. Deep, smooth, calm, and authoritative, “ETA on your entry, Bravo 0-7.” It was a question yes, including the little lilt up of his voice at the end, but it sounded more like an order coming from that man. Most things in your experience did, you weren’t about to complain about it though.
Without thinking about it the corners of your mouth turned up in a small smile. A rush that wasn’t adrenaline for once, but instead was happiness. A feeling you were beginning to grow a bit more accustomed to after so long without it. You stayed quiet though as Watcher answered the silent question in a hushed tone, “Fifteen seconds.” Ghost quickly relayed the answer before everyone went silent once more. There was a hollow grunt from Ghost who seemed like he was about to say something more but he instead elected to leave it alone once Watcher continued on with whatever it was he was doing. Best not to distract the young man anymore than he obviously already was.
Before Price could speak again the more feminine voice of Laswell came through the ear pieces, obviously broadcasted to the whole team, “Be advised there are two unknowns nearing your location. I estimate thirty seconds before they are on you. You need to get inside the building. Do not alert any guards. I repeat, do not alert any guards. We don’t know what is inside that building.” Your hands tightened instinctively on the weapon as you shifted and your knee dug further into the grime of the alleyway as rain water flowed down the paved road by you.
Watcher behind you was still doing whatever it was he was good at in an attempt to get y’all inside before shit hit the fan. No one said a word for fear it would tip the scales out of your favor too soon and y’all waited quietly on bated breath to get the clear from the ginger to breach. Again an American voice broke the silence as Laswell updated the team, “Fifteen seconds. Your side of the alley Speck.” Your hand shot down to the dog still lying between your legs as you quickly assured yourself that he was still lying on his belly there, as if he could move with the lead still clipped on him.
Both you and Cerberus were tense with anticipation, the only thought in your mind being ‘Don’t let this op go sideways already. It’s too fuckin soon.’ Just as the words played through your mind though water splashed up beside you as Watcher backed up to stop beside you and shove the items in his hand into a small pack at his hip and readied his weapon. Your focus however stayed on the end of the all even as the door opened behind you.
Footsteps, muted by the torrent, sounded off behind you as the other cleared into the building in quick succession. Laswell’s voice was counting down quietly in your ear as the men filed in behind you as quickly as they could. There was a light tap on your shoulder and your eyes darted up to find Watcher just as the young man hurried away from you and inside. You stood and shuffled backwards with Cerberus who backpedaled along with you until you turned into the doorway and Konig shut the door behind you.
Silence buzzed in your ears until the soft sounds of droplets of water hitting the floor found your ears. Your ears adjusted quickly to the lack of the noise as you looked around the dark entryway that you found yourself in. It was like the building was light and soundproof despite you knowing better. Or at least you knew what the building specs had revealed, who knew what was really going on in this fucking building though. No plan, no matter how amazing, survived a battle.
The illusion of the building being sound and lightproof dissipated in a moment though as the sound of rain hitting the roof sounded somewhere above you. While outside the darkness of the storm was interrupted by flashes of lightning that managed to illuminate the hallway though it was only for a few moments. It was just long enough though for you to see Soap at the end of the hallway and his gun pointed into the darkness with Watcher covering the other corner. Both men were holding their respective angles on anyone who might come down the hallway. 
A second later there was a strike of thunder that seemed to rattle the walls around you and also aided to ruin the illusion of sound deprivation, feeling more like an earthquake instead of a storm that was miles overhead. There was still no sound from the team though, even as Konig dropped his night vision into place much like the rest of the team had already done, you were just now noticing. A moment later Ghost finally broke the dead silence as his voice sounded over all the comms, “We’re inside. IR beacons on now Captain,” you reached up a hand to drop your own night vision into place. You reached to the back of your helmet then to turn the IR beacon as well and then Cerberus’ on the back of his vest as Ghost spoke.
It took a second before you heard Price answer in that calm, soothing tone that was all business and formality in the middle of this mission. And despite yourself it had the hair on your arms standing up in response, “Good copy Lieutenant, eyes on.” The big man didn’t bother to answer him and instead he moved up behind Soap as he took a second to survey both sides of the dark hallway.
The masked face turned back to find you as his hand came up and he directed you to follow up behind Konig and Watcher. The moment you gave him a nod he tapped Soap on the shoulder and the two men slipped silently around the corner. Stealth was your friend, at least for now, and was the only thing keeping the local law enforcement off of y’all and the rest of the building quiet as you moved through the building. Just one quick hand motion and Cerberus was out from between your legs as he came to rest at your right hip instead. Stepping up behind Konig you gave him a light tap on the shoulder and watched him mirror the same action on the young man’s before the three of you slipped around the corner and off down the hallway.
Watcher stopped at the first room as he opened the door quietly and his lean form moved with graceful, quiet speed you hadn’t seen from many. As you continued moving you found yourself appraising the skill with which he cleared the room, despite the fact that you knew it wasn’t actually your job to do so. To be so young it seemed he was well enough trained, maybe not as quick or experienced as the rest of the team but you had your suspicions that most of his skills lied elsewhere. Not necessarily just another jarhead with half a brain to throw into the fray when you needed bodies. 
Quickly though you and Konig moved past the room as you watched the hallway behind and Konig the hallway and stairs up ahead. It took only a few seconds before the sharp features of his pale face reappeared in the doorway and you turned to tap Konig as the three of you continued on down the hall. Approaching the second door that branched off the hallway you heard a low rumble come from your right and you hurriedly reached forward to tap the taller man in front of you on the shoulder. He paused for just a moment before he too heard the low rumble just behind him and he gave a stiff nod.
A quick hand gesture and the rumble stopped as Konig lined up on the side of the door before checking to make sure it was unlocked. When he looked back you were quick to give him a single nod as he returned his attention to the door and pushed inside. You didn’t catch what happened in the first moment. All you could see was Konig’s large body that seemed to swallow the nearest hostile as he wrapped his arms around the man’s neck and drug him to the side against the wall, as out of the way as the Austrian could get. You stepped inside in the next moment as you listened to the muffled sounds that came from the man that Konig was fighting to put to sleep.
The wide eyed face of a young man, you’d wager to guess even younger than Watcher, came around the corner in a flash. You barely had enough time to register the fear that had grown there. All you could see was the thought that he was in too deep, that his time had come even as he reacted in his own defense nearly as quickly as you. The silhouette of a handgun began to rise in what felt like slow motion in front of you. Instinct carried you forward as your right hand shot forward as quick as the strike of lightning that flashed outside and blinded you for just a moment. You didn’t need to be able to see though now that you had your hands on him.
Just as quickly as your sight was taken it returned in the midst of your next strike. His trachea slammed into your thenar web and you could feel the way it began to give way beneath the force of the blow. Dark eyes bugged at the sudden contact and immediately the gun in his hand dropped, a metallic clack echoing around the walls as it hit the ground, and he reached for his throat while he struggled to catch his breath.
In the next moment his throat was trapped between your forearm and bicep while his hands clawed fruitlessly at your arms. Nails dug into the fabric of the long sleeved, black shirt that clung to your torso and arms like a second skin. When that didn’t seem to work a primal instinct began to take over that few could have suppressed, and part of you would have gone so far as to say not a soul alive could have fought that urge down.
It was a desire to survive, to continue dwelling in this cruel world that every creature walking this planet had. His sharp elbows drove back into your ribs and you couldn’t help the quiet grunt that he drove from your lungs. The young man’s mouth opened wide in a scream that he couldn’t quite get out but damn did he try. You could even feel the muscles of his neck as they flexed beneath your forearm. A quiet hum passed through your lips as the wild and struggling actions slowly began to ebb into the hazy last ditch efforts to get away. Futile attempts but the human brain responded the only way it knew how, remove the threat and get away from it. Even if the brain knew it could never hope to accomplish that task.
As the fingers around your forearm loosened your gaze darted towards Konig across the room who was lowering the other man to the ground before he turned to find you. Cerberus was still standing idly beside you while his chocolatey eyes stared up at you with reverence as if you didn’t have a man currently struggling in your arms. When the other’s arms finally started to fall back to his sides you took a step back to lower him to the ground before he slumped to the floor and you stepped over his body to join Konig where he’d moved back towards the door. A single tap on the tall man’s shoulder and he stepped outside with Watcher as y’all continued on down the hallway.
Like a well-oiled machine you cleared every small room on the first floor and rotated with one another all the way to the stairs. As you cleared the final room on your side of the hallway, Ghost's voice rumbled through the ear piece, “Clearing the second floor now. Team three clear the third floor.”
You exited the room with a tap on Konig’s shoulder as the man answered back, “On the way up now.” He released the button on his mic before he whispered just loud enough to hear, “On you, Watcher.” The young man didn’t hesitate even for a moment before he mounted the first step on his way up. His head tilted up as he watched the top of the landing, taking the steps carefully as he went, doing everything in his power not to make a noise. Not a single shot fired so far and the guards weren’t alerted, hell this was going far better than any of y’all had dared to anticipate.
“Be advised, one just left his room on the second floor
” the man paused before continuing with an edge of nervous anticipation in his tone, “No clear shot on my end. He's approaching the stairwell on the north side of the building,” the Brit’s voice reached your ears though it wasn’t that of the man from before. This one was a couple octaves higher and missing the rough tone you loved so much. Watcher stilled on the stairs in response, just barely in front of Konig about halfway up the first flight of stairs. You couldn’t help but cast a nervous glance back the way you had come like you’d just assured y’alls mutual destruction by just daring to think positively for once.
A low rumble began in the dog’s chest that you silenced immediately with a quiet gesture of your hand. Konig took one more cautious step forward to come shoulder to shoulder with the comically shorter man just before a face came into view at the top of the stairs. Your stomach dropped as the middle-aged man froze with his fingers tangled through a long, dark beard. It took a moment for him to process what he was seeing, to register that y’all were the enemy and his life was in danger. The man tried to scream, he really did. At least he made the most honest attempt he could. His mouth opened and he tried to take a step back and turn. He put every muscle into action in order to take off back down the hall, probably to find someone, but his fate was never to walk down that hall again.
He didn’t even get the chance to turn his head all the way back around before a flash came from the end of Watcher’s barrel and then Konig’s. Blood sprayed the wall behind him as the light faded from his eyes and his body began to go limp. It would take a second for his body to realize that the brain had ceased to respond. No loud bangs echoed off the walls though, suppressors kept the sounds quiet especially with the cracks of thunder still sounding off overhead. 
Your shoulders tensed as you watched his body tilt forward towards the two men and he began to fall down the stairs. Without even really thinking about it the two men in front of you stepped forward simultaneously. The weight of the now deceased man hit their shoulders as they let his body lay softly against the stairs before they continued up and you followed right behind them. Avoiding the blood pooling onto the steps and the body that laid there now.
Watcher lifted his gun to inspect the dark hallway for only a second before his eyes returned in front of him and the two men in front of you continued on with that same slow and careful step that you all had been using since you left the van. Again the two men started up the stairs together as you brought up the rear of the group, Cerberus still steady at your side, a rock in this tide of uncertainty. As the three of you crested the top of the stairs two shots fired off back the way you had come. Fuck.
Voices rose in a flurry from the floor below as Ghost’s deep voice growled into your ear, “We’re compromised.” Yeah, no shit.
“Time to clean house lads,” Soap’s voice cut him off, sounding strained as more shots fired off from somewhere below.
More voices began to rise like a chorus from behind the closed doors of the third floor before lights flipped on overhead and blinded each of you with the nightvision. You scrambled desperately to pull the goggles up even as startled shouts hit your ears and you tried to adjust your eyes with a couple quick blinks. Bullets flew past you, slamming into the walls behind you before you heard the quieter pops of either Watcher or Konig’s rifles firing. When you could finally focus your eyes a man was lying dead a few feet in front of you and further down the hall one was coming out of another room.
Watcher was just getting his night vision goggles up while Konig was turning back to check on the both of you. His eyes landed on the ginger first before turning his green gaze to you. Cerberus’ jaws opened in a thunderous bark as a crack of thunder sounded just outside, though you had to admit the dog was easily loud enough to compete with it. All thought stopped though as you watched the door in front of you fly open. You were almost certain you could feel every muscle go rigid in response, a moment of hesitation that would undoubtedly be your undoing.
A figure peeled around the corner that Konig had missed in his worry. You tried to lift your gun but there wasn’t enough time. You could see from here, in this slowed down, distorted version of time, that he was going to beat you to pulling the trigger. That was before glass shattered somewhere ahead of you and the man fell with a hole in the side of his head. Your gaze darted around to find the source of the shot, but Konig was helping Watcher to his feet so it wasn’t one of you. Then John’s voice rumbled in your ear in a tone that was nearly a growl, “He’s down. Get al-Mustafa. That’s an order.”
Your eyes darted to where Konig was already moving forward with Watcher hurrying after him. There was no time to waste now that your cover had been blown. Konig shoved his way into the first door on his right and disappeared inside as you moved to catch up with the other two. You reached a hand down to check on Cerberus as the big dog moved at your side and you continued on past the door to follow Watcher. By the time the shorter man was pushing in to clear the next room Konig was coming up behind you to give you a light tap on the shoulder and you crossed the hall to the next door.
A hard shove inside with your shoulder and it started to give way only to come to a jarring halt as it slammed into something solid which was currently refusing to budge on the other side. Your brows furrowed then before someone shoved at the other side and the door slammed hard into your chest. A quiet curse fell out of your mouth as you took a step back and glanced Konig’s way as he pushed into the room next to yours easily enough while Watcher continued on down the hall past you and towards the last door already. Do not ruin the rhythm, Speck. Don’t be that fucker, get your shit together.
Get it together, get it together, finish this so you can get everything back to normal. Unclipping Cerberus’ lead you took a breath before you stepped forward and your boot collided with a door. The force cracked the wood which might as well have been paper thin at this point as it flew inward. Curses sounded from inside the room as you forced it the rest of the way open with a hard slam of your shoulder. When it finally gave in to the force you felt your teeth jar just before you caught sight of furrowed brows and the barrel of a gun rising your way.
Time was short but the distance between the two of you was shorter. Your gun slipped from your grasp as you shot forward and grabbed his wrist with one hand. You slammed it against the wall with enough force to make the wall shudder beneath it as you slipped further into his guard. The gun smacked against the wall uselessly as you did, your arms straining to maintain control with one hand around one wrist and the fingers of your other hand wrapped tight around the other.
The man growled out more than a few curses in Pashto as he tried to force you back through the door. Even as you held his arms wide and the gun away from your chest he still seemed only to be worried about keeping you out and away. It was like he was trying to get rid of you even as the sounds of gasps echoed from further within all in the span of a few seconds. All of the noises from within quickly turned into cries and sobs as you let your grip slip ever so slightly to wrap your hand around the barrel of the gun and force it from the man’s hand. It only took another half second to flip it around in your palm and shove it into the center of his chest. 
When you pulled the trigger the sound would have nearly deafened you if not for the headphones over your ears. The bang bounced off the walls around you as the man fell to the ground and you turned without thought to find the source of the noises from before. The man’s dead body was irrelevant now and you had no more attention you needed to pay it. Your eyes darted down towards the woman and the little girl she now held wrapped in her arms and as hidden from your sight as she possibly could be. Her face locked you into place as you immediately remembered the way she had looked so confused and pleading at you the last time you had seen her. Your jaw tensed and Cerberus whined at your side, sensing the way your mood immediately changed from business to uncertainty.
She had been at the other compound, you’d sent her directly back into the fray with the foolish hope that her mother would get her out of here, out of this life. Really it had been more like the hope that she could get out there. However even as you watched her you realized there was no recognition behind those eyes. This was the same little girl you had gone out of your way to speak to and she didn't even remember your face, and for some odd reason it made you muscles tighten in response. You were so used to people not remembering you, hell it was why you could do what you did, but you’d spoken to this girl. Killed another man right in front of her. Yet there she was not even realizing the deja vu you should have been causing her at this exact moment.
God you were getting sensitive lately, it was truly becoming pathetic as nearly everything was altering the course of your thoughts. You couldn’t think about that right now Speck, you’d come here for a reason and you had so much more to deal with than a child you didn’t even know. The reason you were here was somewhere else in this building, it wasn’t this little girl and her mother. Amaan was the cause of this girl’s suffering and you had a chance to stop that tonight. He was the reason that all of you were even here. The reason that you all had to be in this place with a dead man behind you and a woman and child who were begging quietly for their lives in front of you. Yet you hadn’t even gotten confirmation of an ID on him to prove he was even in this building.
Glancing towards the door you took half a step forward and leveled the barrel of the gun at the woman. Even as you did it though you felt the finger you had resting against the trigger freeze. You couldn’t kill unarmed combatants, and especially not a child. Not here and not now. Son of a bitch, you bit the inside of your cheek and glanced back at the door once before turning back to the two and growled out a quiet threat in Farsi, the only hope you had of keeping them alive and seeing this through to the end, “Do not move, do not leave. Try to leave and you will be shot. Stay here until we are gone and do not make a noise, do you understand?”
The mother’s eyes glanced at the man on the ground behind you before looking into your eyes once more as she pulled her daughter closer and then gave a few quick nods of understanding. You watched as the mother and Jasra disappeared into the small closet in the room and the door closed behind you as you left the room with a clipped, “Fuss.” The second you turned the corner though and started towards where you knew the other two would be clearing the final room another round of shots rang out through the third floor.
“FUCK,” the Scottish voice yelled out as he fell back around the door frame and his hands reached for his side. Too good, things never went this smoothly and you never should have let yourself believe that it would. You closed the distance in a flash though Konig was there a step before you, speaking words in German that you didn’t understand. His hand shot to grab a hold on the young man’s vest as he pulled him further away from the door. You didn’t stop to afford Watcher that same level of concern, not when the person who had done the shooting could have come out of the room at any moment, besides Konig could handle any first aid better than you could.
Slipping inside the final room you slid around the corner gun first as you came face to face with al-Mustafa who was standing securely behind his two wives with his arms wrapped around both of their necks. He had one hand wrapped around the grip of the pistol as he held it to one of their heads. Your eyes searched them carefully, analyzing and planning in the matter of a moment. There was no way you could fire off a shot and hope to kill the other man before he killed one of these two women though. Again time was short and you didn’t exactly have much time to figure out a way to get through this situation.
Especially not when you could hear the two men outside the door and you were already having to fight to turn off the side of your mind that held the worry and fear for the young man outside the door and everything that could possibly go wrong. Doubly so when you heard Konig’s voice in your ear piece, “Watcher has been shot. Soap, get up here now.” You didn’t flinch, you couldn’t, you were in the middle of a stare-off with a true piece of shit and you knew whoever flinched first was going to lose this match.
The ensuing chaos on the mic nearly broke you but it was still secondary as you continued to watch al-Mustafa. “Come on Amaan, there’s no reason for this. Just come with us,” play your role Speck, like maybe you wouldn’t have put a bullet in his head given the first chance. God you wanted to though, you wanted to kill him more than you’d wanted to kill anyone else before in your life. Your words, which had come out in Farsi, seemed to be a cause of confusion for Amaan though that lasted only a moment before he dismissed your presence as a whole in favor of searching for a way out from behind his two body shields.
There was fear that was evident in both of the women’s eyes and even though you couldn’t see it you knew that sweat was beginning to dot their brows as they watched the end of your gun rather than you. They were both expecting to meet their end one way or another tonight. You need to break that bastard’s concentration, your eyes darted down to the dog at your side who was a steady rock at your side. “Gib laut,” you mumbled to which Cerberus responded with a series of thundering barks directed at the man still searching for a way to get out.
The tension was instantly palpable in the room, the barks served to keep the other man on edge, no respite for the adrenaline fueled panic you knew was currently flowing through his system. Good, the last thing you needed was a terrorist with a fucking plan. “I don’t have a line of sight into the room, Captain, how about you,” Gaz’s voice came through your ear piece and you barely even had the chance to glance at the walls of the room to realize that there were no windows except for the one on the south side of the building.
Of course there weren’t, nothing could ever be that easy huh? It took a moment for Price to answer as well though you didn’t need to hear his answer to know what it would be. Still you enjoyed hearing his voice as he growled out in what you were beginning to learn was frustration, “Negative. Konig status report on Watcher.”
The Austrian was doing his best to hide his worry but it was painfully obvious as he answered, “Two gsw’s, one to the abdomen the other to the thigh, his plates caught the rest. Soap, where are you!?” You could hear the man outside without the need of his mic as his voice rose in what was nearing panic. The worst part about it though were the quiet grunts of pain that the young man was doing his best to choke down. However, as much as he was trying it wasn’t working too well as your imagination painted a vivid picture of Watcher leaking blood all over the hallway. With Konig’s huge hands pressing desperately over two flooded wounds as he tried to staunch the bleeding.
For the love of God, drown it out Speck, focus on the problem in front of you before you get yourself killed, idiot. You blinked once as you tried to push the thoughts into the back of your mind and forced al-Mustafa came back into your forethoughts. Your eyes caught sight of the women’s fear again, their gazes darting towards the door on their left and then back to you. Amaan’s eyes were everywhere but, his gaze was instead now drawn to the escape route he had planned out for himself. A flash of lighting struck outside followed by a series of three more strikes that you struggled not to let yourself get blinded by and instead keep your eyes on the man you were actually here for.
In the next moment though the power flickered and then everything went dark. Son of a bitch this shit needed to make up its fucking mind. Again shots rang out just before glass shattered as you hurried to flip down your night vision once more. When you finally managed to see what had happened the scene in front of you made your shoulders tense in response. A small pit settled in your stomach as you stared down at the floor.
One of the women was lying dead on the ground, the place where the bullet had gone through and left a hole in her skull covered by the headwear she wore. The other woman, presumably her sister, was reaching for and cradling her head as she drug the limp corpse into her lap. Sobs racked her body as she did and when the door to their left opened you lifted your gun instinctively at whoever was coming through. When three young girls quickly ran to their mothers in the dark though you felt that pit beginning to widen. Especially as you caught sight of the blood already soaking into the rug on the floor.
Holy shit. You let the barrel of the gun lower slowly before you reached up to the radio attached to your vest and spoke quickly, “One of the wives is dead, Amaan killed her. He’s gone, but I can still get him, Captain.” Silence took over the line as the sound of a second Scottish voice entered the hallway from a distance. Your mind was anywhere but the three men now outside the door though, you had other things to worry about.
You took a quick step up onto the bed and moved over it to the now opened window. Glancing out quickly at the torrential downpour your eyes narrowed as you inspected the narrow ledge of the window and the straight drop down. Time for retrieval was escaping, Price needed to make a decision and he needed to make it now before his opinion became obsolete. “Speck
” There was a hint of warning in his voice as he said your name, making your jaw tense once more as you glanced the other way down the street towards where Price was nestled in a building somewhere. You caught sight of Amaan’s retreating form as he tried to make his escape for the second time from your team. John was out of time to make a decision now.
“Fuck it,” you drawled out the words as you used the stock of the gun to clear out the larger shards of glass still stuck to the frame. In the next moment you were climbing through the window before you pressed the button on your radio and growled out, “I’m going after him.” It wasn’t a request this time, it was a statement. You were going after him. A woman had died and Watcher was injured and you couldn’t let his sacrifice go to waste
Not if the worst happened.
Glancing down quickly you found the awaiting gaze as you commanded, “Bleib,” and watched the dog’s focus narrow onto you and you alone. Both of you were now actively ignoring the crying children and the one woman still left to deal with the three children. They weren’t your problem to deal with anymore though, you had other things to worry about. Like how far this drop was gonna be and how you were gonna catch up to that slippery bastard. It was time to treat this just like any other obstacle course or training drill now. Just get it done, put this bullshit to rest. 
As you clung to the ledge of the window your eyes searched for the easiest path to the ground, and you could feel your fingers slipping just slightly as you fought to hang on. The shining gutter on the right caught your gaze as you swung yourself off the ledge of the broken window and towards it. Your hands couldn’t grip it all that well but before you slid down you managed to get your feet around it as you controlled your descent to the street below. It only barely broke what would have been a bone-breaking fall, but it broke it enough that you could ignore the pain in your knees and turn to yell up, “Hier.”
Only a moment passed before Cerberus launched himself through the window and you saw his head tilt down as he looked for you. Reminiscent of the way he had launched off the top of the training wall during the training run with full faith you would be there to catch him. It was all the same to him, work and training were no different. So long as you were there he couldn’t have cared less about the situation that he was in while doing it.
Your arms lifted as you took a couple steps back before the weight of the dog landed on your outstretched forearms and you cushioned his fall. Without another moment of thought you  issued a quick, “Fuss,” and then turned down the street and took off at a sprint, not bothering to check on Cerberus. There was no doubt in your mind that he had slipped into his place at your side. 
Where had Amaan been when you last saw him? You were struggling to remember now. He’d turned down a side road and disappeared between the buildings, you could recall that much at least. But had he been at the dead end of this street? He had been, right? Yeah of course he had. For sure
Maybe? Fuck.
“I’ve got eyes on Amaan,” the deep voice sounded akin to the rumble of an engine in your ear as he answered a question you hadn’t even dared to utter. “Three streets to your north, Speck. Move fast, I don’t have eyes anymore,” the callout made your head whip to your right just as you began to pass a side street. It only took a quick glance for you to catch sight of the man in question once more.
Oh yeah, you were definitely faster than that fucker. You could catch up to him easily, you just had to put everything clouding your mind out of it. None of that was important right now. All you had to do was get yourself and Cerberus out of this mess alive now. That was it.
You slipped in the wet streets as you took the hard turn and started after him. Ahead he darted out of sight back towards the west and you had to raise a hand to shield your eyes from the rain pouring into your face. Even your eyelashes were beginning to drip as the thunder continued to rumble overhead and another flash of lightning lit up the sky. Had you been standing still you might have even gotten cold with how wet everything around you was, but with your arms and legs pumping you didn’t exactly have the chance. Instead your skin felt like fire beneath the tight, black shirt and comparatively loose, black cargo pants you’d donned for the mission.
The dog beside you was focused ahead and for the first time it seemed you weren’t the only thing on his mind. Cerberus was well aware that the chase was on. You’d both been on enough together that it wasn’t all that surprising he had realized what was happening by now.
The gun in your hands and the gear strapped to your body felt like a weight dragging you down into the streets that were now turning into mud as you neared the poorer parts of the city. The water that had soaked into your shirt and pants was becoming a fifty pound burden as it slowed your typically light and agile form. You could only hope that Cerberus’ thick-furred body wasn’t feeling the same in these conditions. One of you slowed down was enough cause for concern, the both of you being drug down was beyond concerning.
As Amaan’s head whipped around to find you, you watched his form take another turn, he knew he was being followed. Lovely. He was trying to shake his tail and if you lost sight of him for too long he might very well be able to do that. Cerberus couldn’t track in these conditions
Well that was a lie, he could do it. It would just be painstaking and it was doubtful you’d end with your query in hand anyway, and you weren’t about to let Watcher get shot trying to get this fucker and then have to find out that the bitch got away again. And if the worst happened
Fuck why hadn’t you hurried the fuck up in that stupid fuckin room?
A pit opened in your stomach as your mind tried to backtrack. Son of a bitch you couldn’t be thinking about all of that. Drown it out and focus Speck, for the love of God and all that’s right and holy in this world fucking focus. He wasn’t the priority right now, not yours anyway. Konig was more than willing to take care of the kid and Watcher didn’t need your worry or your pity. Right now you needed to think rationally not with whatever the fuck else your mind was trying to force on you.
Even as the thoughts crossed your mind you heard the crack of the mic as words spilled through, “Someone get the fucking van. We’ve got to get the fuck oot of here.” Soap’s tone didn’t hold worry so much as it did urgency. A need to get out of what had turned into quite literally a bloody mess before things got even worse, or so you assumed. You weren’t exactly there to see how things were going since you left.
“On it,” Ghost’s deep voice answered back immediately just as the man you were chasing made another turn and forced your focus back to him completely. This slippery bastard was gonna be the death of your knees with all these fucking turns.
Catch him, stop him, hell kill him if need be. Fuck the info you could get from him at this point, you’d rather know this was over than worry about some intel. Just end his life and finish this bullshit. You turned the corner around a tall fence and were met with an empty dead end street. Your gaze darted back and forth from the collapsing building on one side and the tall, chain link fence on the other side as thunder continued to rumble overhead. “Where the fuck-”
Pacing back and forth in the alley your mind worked quickly towards a viable solution. One hesitant step forward and then a quick turn back and your eyes slid over the fence next to you. Mud had kicked up on it. No, that was way too high to be from anyone just running by. You froze as you looked at it for a moment, watching as gravity played its part and the silty mud dripped slowly down the fence.
This fuckin guy

In the same moment you saw him through the small holes of the fence as he weaved around a car and disappeared from sight once more. It didn’t take you a second longer to start climbing over after him as you hauled yourself up towards the top. At least until you swung a leg over and then stopped, your eyes surveying the broken down cars and junk piled around the fenced in area. One hand braced against the top as you held yourself in place while the other still held the gun nestled tight against your shoulder as you waited a second.
Stop and take in your surroundings Speck, get your fucking head on right or you’re gonna get yourself killed. There he was. Your brows furrowed and then lowered into a look of frustration as you watched him. The figure's hands were clinging to the opposite fence as he desperately tried to pull himself up.
When he turned to glance back a flash of anger curled your lip up instantly and you couldn’t stop yourself. You lifted the gun and without even a thought your other hand steadied your aim as you fired at the man. Every muscle tensed as you watched him fall backwards off the fence, a yell of pain just barely audible in the rain he reached for his shoulder. You watched for another moment, still holding the gun up though you didn’t really expect him to move again.
But it was raining, it was dark, and you weren’t exactly shooting from a good spot as you straddled the fence. There was just barely a flash of metal that you caught before you instinctively dove head first off the fence and for cover. At least you could take comfort in the fact that the man was on the opposite side of the yard in complete darkness and without your technology to aid him.
Gunshots sounded off from the other side of the fenced in lot as your shoulder slammed into the mud below and you clamped your mouth shut. Don’t yell, that was the last thing you needed. You pushed yourself across the ground as you tried to gather your thoughts and your broken body. One hand was still holding the gun out of the mud as you used the other to push yourself up. You braced yourself against a broken down car as you searched the lot once more for movement. You could only hope he was too stupid to reposition himself. 
The thought that Cerberus had still been on the other side of the fence didn’t quite register until you heard the clink of metal and the scratch of claws on chain link fence over your shoulder. Fear rushed through you for the first time the whole mission as you heard another round of shots fire off from across the lot. You could only hope he was firing blindly into the night and that he hadn’t somehow caught sight of Cerberus in this darkness.
Your gaze darted up as confusion swirled in your eyes along with a hint of pain you were trying to ignore as well. Without any command the dog had leaped the fence as his resolve and patience finally wore thin and ran out. Mud and water sprayed up into his thick, brindle fur as Cerberus hit the ground. He didn’t even take a second to listen to anything you had to say. It was apparent that he was running on instinct, completely wild and untamed now. It wasn’t exactly something you would be inclined to praise in another situation but right here in the middle of a storm and with both of your lives on the line the longer you remained outside the wire you didn’t attempt to stop him this time.
Cerberus, a missile across the ground even in the bog that was this
Was this a fucking junkyard? Oh yeah without a doubt, especially as you hopped the decrepit car you had almost landed on top of. You tried to follow the dog but he was impossibly fast and a thousand times more capable of flitting into the opened skeletons of dead cars. He disappeared from sight as he dove through one frame of a car and scrambled out the window on the other side.
And then he disappeared from sight as you vaulted another car and tried to follow after him. As you jumped to the next car you heard a scream rip through the air. The sight of the person who uttered it was blocked by a stand of cars though as you continued to wind through the junkyard. Rain continued to pound down on your helmet and drowned out the splashing of mud and water as Cerberus wrestled Amaan to the ground. You weren’t there to see the way the skin tore as the man struggled to get away from the iron jaws around his forearm. Nor did you see his arm as it was nearly torn apart and off by the animal that was operating completely rogue at this point.
As you vaulted another car just beside the stand that was blocking your sight your eyes landed on the violently shaking head as Cerberus’ jaws and body kept the man pinned to the ground. Almost dragging him over the mud and now covered the man as you took a slow step forward. You found yourself reveling in the man’s screams, enjoying them. He was a vile man, a demon that had come to visit the mortal world and you couldn’t help the peace you felt watching Cerberus work. This man had killed so many, hurt even more both physically and emotionally with the death he had wrought on this realm. He deserved this. He deserved to feel a fraction of the pain he himself had caused.
“Speck!?” A voice yelled into your ear piece, raspy and deep and probably the only thing that could have caught your attention at this point. He always caught your attention. Your eyes darted around you for just a moment as if you expected to find the man somewhere around you before Amaan’s screams reached your ears again. Growls from the dog in front of you drew your eyes just in time to see the man’s free hand reach for the gun he’d dropped when Cerberus had initially taken him down.
Again your lip curled up in response as you aimed at the perpetrating hand and sent a round straight through the back of his palm. A fresh scream tore from his throat before he drew his hand back towards him in an attempt to protect it. Taking a step forward you knelt on his back before grabbing one of the zip ties that hung from the pouch at your waist. With one quick, “Aus,” the animal’s jaws relented and fresh blood pooled out of the wounds as he did.
His loud barks thundered in your ears even louder than mother nature’s ruckus overhead. It was still all a game to him, even if he had broken his hold for a moment he still thought it was just a game. There was no distinction between play, training, and work, and you’d used him not as a tool but as revenge this time. What the fuck were you doing?
“Speck, answer me!” His voice broke you from your thoughts again as you shot a glance down to the wire connecting your earpiece and the mic around your throat. Hurriedly you drug the man’s arms behind his back, smiling as he groaned out in pain and said a few garbled words you couldn’t make out in the storm. You tightened the plastic around his wrists before standing back up with your foot on the middle of his back to hold him in place. Amaan wriggled helplessly in the mud as rain still poured over the both of you in the dark din of the storm.
Swallowing hard, you took a deep breath and reached up to press the button on the mic, “Junkyard.” Well that was certainly descriptive now wasn’t it? Good God Speck, say something else, give them something else to go off of. What else could you give them?
Your eyes darted around the fenced in lot as you actively ignored the man still writhing beneath your foot. Think, Speck, think of something else to say, there had to be some other way to tell him exactly where you were. “I’m about a hundred and fifty meters from my last known,” silence encapsulated you for the first time that night, even the tumultuous skies overhead went quiet seeming to sense the urgency of this situation. Cerberus had fallen silent at your side as well, his eyes still watching the man at your feet in what was as close to a daring look as you’d ever seen, if a dog were even capable of that.
Seconds passed by as you waited for someone to answer you. Any reply at all to set your nerves at ease. Finally, John’s voice rumbled in your ear again as he asked, “Did you get him?” You could sense the hope in his voice even over the radio, a daring want for this to finally be over.
Your gaze slid to the man beneath you as you rolled Amaan over onto his back with your boot and glared down at him. His teeth were gritted and his lips peeled back over his teeth as he tried to hold back the sounds of pain he was no doubt feeling as he laid on several injuries to his limbs. “Oh yeah, Captain, you bet your fuckin ass I got him.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bloody hand prints painted the white metal floors and walls as the false panel of the van sat open in front of you. Your jaw tightened as you looked at the evidence of what had happened on this latest mission, the blood that had been spilled on both sides of this war tonight. You were standing at the back of the van with your knees pressing against the bumper, and despite how empty it made you feel you couldn’t find the will to look away from the mess before you. 
Even Gaz passing in front of your gaze couldn’t interrupt your rushing thoughts. Your mind went idle as you watched him spraying the blood out of the back, your arms crossed over your face as you stayed put. Mud still caked nearly every inch of your clothed body after you’d all but rolled in it back in that junkyard. While both specks of blood and dried mud decorated your face like the makeup a toddler would have painted across your skin. Even strands of your beard were stuck together with the dried, brown substance as it cracked every time you reached a hand up to run your fingers through it. You watched with every muscle tensed as the bloody water dripped out onto the cement floor before it disappeared underneath the van to head down the drain.
Not all of the blood was Watcher's at least, half of it belonged to Amaan after Cerberus had nearly torn his arm off at the elbow. You should have let him do it too. It was what that fucker deserved after he shot that poor kid. Sure Watcher had signed up for this just like anyone else had, but it didn’t mean that the whole team wasn’t still feeling this hit. Even you were as new to them as you were.
A door opened somewhere behind you and still you stared ahead as Gaz continued to clean up his friend’s blood slowly, seemingly as lost in his own head as you were. You certainly weren’t blaming him. “Speck,” the deep voice broke your concentration as you turned to eye the perpetrator with a cocked brow. 
John came to a stop beside you finally and you caught his gaze just as it landed on your face. He’d been in an interrogation with Ghost and Amaan for the past few hours as you all waited for the sun to set once more, not to mention the tail end of the storm that was still raging overhead. Your arms dropped from your chest as you turned towards him, your head tilting quizzically. Jesus you needed to get out of your fucking head, that was never a good place to be. “Did he talk? What’d he say?”
Blue eyes held you hostage in their gaze, his hand finding yours as he stood there. It was only for a fleeting moment though, not nearly long enough for either of you. Only a passing graze over the rough texture of your palm that was still dyed a deep red. His index finger felt like a feather ghosting over your skin just as the rest of his hand wrapped around yours. John’s thumb grazed over the back of your knuckles before he pulled away so that the only other man present didn’t see and shook his head in answer, “No he didn’t. I doubt he’ll talk any time soon, Speck.” At his words a flash of frustration passed across your gaze as your eyes flicked towards the door that led into the main room of the safehouse.
You’d been here before in this safehouse, been at the end of this interrogation once already. So why was the only thought crossing your mind, ïżœïżœThey ain’t tryin’ hard ‘nough.’ They knew what they were doing, you knew that, but you couldn’t help but feel like you could do more. There was this need to seize control in such an unsure situation that scratched at the back of your mind, it was the way you’d been trained. Thrown at problems relentlessly and told to figure it out, it was the only thing in life you’d ever been good at. Or at least that was what you had always told yourself. 
Your features darkened but you didn’t give him a chance to see as you stepped away from him without a word and your eyes shot to the door as you headed straight towards the door back into the safehouse. Until fingers wrapped around your bicep and John intercepted your progress, putting himself between you and the door. “Just let me give it a go, John,” even before you finished though the other’s head was shaking. His strong grip stayed securely around your arm as his other hand came up to rest gently against your chest. Warmth spread into your skin from his palm as it laid against the gear you still hadn’t stripped out of. His head continued to shake even as you pleaded helplessly, “You’ve been in there for hours, he’s obviously not all that afraid of you. Let me-”
“No,” John’s firm answer resonated through the small garage and you heard the hosepipe stop behind you, though the gaze leveled in front of you held you frozen in place. This was the man who had soothed the raging inferno of your temper in the worst of times, and after letting Cerberus nearly tear Amaan apart that fire had burned out to a barely smoking ember as you questioned everything about yourself. You needed something to ground you and as the realization hit you couldn’t help the small huff you let out because of course you did. When did you not need him to stabilize your deteriorating mental state of late? Pathetic. “Go clean yourself up, Speck. Take a break.” Your jaw tensed as you neared an overt refusal of his suggestion. When he sighed deep though and you had to watch his head tilt as he leaned a bit closer, “You smell like shite, Love. Trust me, yeah? We know what we’re doing.” Trust him. Damn.
Your eyes hit the ground immediately as you took a step back to put some distance between y’all. Shrugging his hand off your arm his other hand fell off of your chest and the cold you’d been ignoring began to set into what felt like your very soul. A deep chill rushed through you though you kept your head on as you nodded a hesitant answer, “Yeah, John, I know.” You glanced back over your shoulder towards the van just as Gaz turned his back in an attempt to give some semblance of privacy. Surprising. Turning back to the Brit you found the ocean depths in front of you and took a slow breath, “Where’s the bathroom?” You watched as his shoulders visibly relaxed in front of you and he curled up the corner of his mouth in a half smile.
Nodding his head towards the other door that led off the garage he lifted his arms to cross them over his chest before answering, “Through the door and down the hall on the left.” You nodded slowly and turned, leaving him behind as you headed to clean yourself up. Cerberus lifted his head as you passed where he was laying against the wall. 
The smell of wet dog and the pungent, metallic tang of blood wafted up your way as you went, nearly choking you with the severity of it. Smells had never really bothered you before, but now you felt a roiling in your gut as you neared and unconsciously sped up past him. Cerberus’ head fell back down to the concrete as you passed, failing to signal or call for him. The Dutchie could wait until y’all were back at base, there wouldn’t be much you could do for the smell right now anyway. You’d let him sleep for a bit now, he’d earned that much at least.
Opening the door you stepped through the threshold, letting the darkness of the hallway swallow you into its embrace as your hand reached out to slide along the wall. You weren’t even sure you were actually walking, not until your fingers ran over the knob of a door on the left hand side of the walland you pushed it open. Fumbling for just a moment your hand searched the wall beside the door before you flipped the lightswitch on the wall and your eyes ran over the small bathroom. Your eyes froze as they found the mirror on the wall, swallowing hard as you took in the sight.
You hadn’t truly looked at yourself in so long now that it was hard to recognize the mud and blood covered man who stared back at you. Sure you had shaved in a mirror on occasion or seen yourself in the reflection of a window when you passed, this was different though. You hadn’t actually taken the time to gaze upon the visage of what you had become over what was now nearly three years. Hadn’t let yourself realize this was your life and you had ruined it. And as you looked at yourself you slowly began to realize you no longer recognized the man who looked back.
The deaths you had lived through had changed you, they’d rewritten the etched lines on your face and put patches of gray in your hair. You’d still been a young man when you’d lost them, as carefree as you could have been living that lie anyway. Your mind had still been that of a teenager and in some ways it still was, but you’d lost that bright, young smile and carefree attitude. They had made you callous to the pain of others and you’d lost some of yourself over the years. And what made it all so much worse was that you hadn’t even realized it until Cerberus’ teeth had been tearing flesh from Amaan’s forearm. Hell you’d been more than ready to kill a man who had simply been doing his job and Wade hadn’t deserved that.
Your eyes dropped to the sink below, blinking as you cleared your thoughts of the man you’d seen in the mirror. Taking a deep breath you flipped the water on, trying to smother the way your heart was racing and how clouded your mind was becoming. Water from the faucet ran cold over your hands as you tested the water before sighing and reaching up to the straps of your tactical vest. You stripped it off over your head with a vicious pull and threw it into the floor, the panic still rising as you fought to keep it together. Rolling your shoulders and head you felt the tension in every muscle and you could only wish for a shower at that moment, something warm to melt the ice forming in your veins. Fuck you wanted, no you needed a damn shower.
The skin tight shirt clinging to your torso was still damp and made chills rack your body as you stood there. Reaching down to the hem of the shirt you pulled the thin fabric up over your head and glanced down at the pink droplets of water left behind on your chest that had seeped through the fabric. Diluted by water and mud you watched as they slid down your chest and disappeared into the waistband of your pants.
Christ you were still thinking too much. You leaned down over the sink and cupped your hands underneath the water as the blood that had been caked on your hands and in the grooves of your fingernails began to wash down the sink. Mud turned the typically bright red into a darkened ruddy color as it added to the already dirtied sink. The stains on your hands slowly began to dissipate as you leaned your face towards the sink and dipped your head beneath the water. Running your fingers through your hair and beard you could feel the dried mud and blood begin to loosen in the strands, doing your best to clean up in the small space.
Slowly you lifted your head back up, running your hands vigorously over your hair as if they themselves were towels and in the same moment you heard drops of water hit the murky liquid still attempting to drain below. Your hands braced on either side of the sink’s bowl as you stared down at the rust colored water below. You should have been better, been there. Why hadn’t you been the first one through that door? Because you’d been too busy dealing with non-combatants. You should have been fucking quicker. The tips of your fingers tapped a steady rhythm against the side of the sink as you got lost in the realm of your thoughts once more unable to pull yourself from them.
“Speck,” immediately your head jerked up at the deep voice right behind you and your eyes shifted to his reflection in the mirror, focusing on the face that now stared back at you. The brunette beard drew your gaze first but only for a moment before it shot up to the deep depths of what was quickly becoming your only place of safety and calm. John was the one who broke your locked eyes as he turned to look out of the door before he closed it behind him with a soft, barely audible whisper of sound. In fact the only noise was that of the lock clicking into place though you barely even noticed because your eyes were glued only to that face, completely incapable of looking away. Stock still in his presence.
Turning your head cautiously you glanced over your shoulder, watching him now out of the corner of your eye. Even that was too much though and had your face and the rest of your body warming in response. The second he was there though your mind stopped whirling. How could it not when the only thought running through your mind was, ‘He looks good in black, he should wear it more often.’ The tempest that was raging had come to a halt in the eye of the storm the moment you were captured by his eyes. Standing back up straight you turned, just barely enough to look at him and with one hand still holding on to the sink for support for fear your knees were going to give out.
You watched him for a moment in the precarious silence of the room, in the whole building really, before his head tilted. The blue gaze was unable to stop its descent down your bared chest though, giving his thoughts away like a snitch. There was no doubt he was tracing the droplets of water that were dripping from the strands of your hair and beard and falling over your skin. Without meeting your gaze again and while he was still inspecting the scars and muscle along your stomach and chest, he asked in a voice still laced with concern, “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”
Good Lord that was the last thing you wanted to fucking do. Talk about feelings? Right now? Fuck that. There was no way in the fucking world you were gonna allow the boner killer that were your thoughts out. Your fingers loosened on the side of the sink as you turned fully towards him. You needed a distraction, something to pass the time. You needed him.
There wasn’t exactly much space to cover in the small bathroom, only a few inches at most. You were across the short space at the speed of light. Probably faster if you were being honest. One of your hands ran over his cheek before it wrapped around the back of his head to tangle into his short brunette strands there. Your lips pressed to his gently at first before something more needy and wanting overcame you.
His body went rigid at the initial contact, almost like he seemed unsure of what you were doing. Surprised maybe? At least that was until your hand slid against his hip to run across the small of his back and you pulled him closer. You could feel his muscles start to melt in response to your touch then before he was matching your neediness. Matching the desire you had for him at every moment of the day. His need for you was shining through just as much as yours was and God if that didn’t feel just fucking amazing.
For once it wasn’t Price jumping on you, in fact you could still sense some hint of hesitation despite his hungry, devouring mouth still pressed to yours. Your hips grinded against his and you could feel yourself twitching in response, still confined to the tight fabric of your pants. Desire and need and some tail end of an adrenaline high fueled your movements like throwing gasoline on a fire. When John pulled his mouth away to take in a breath your lips moved to the corner of his, pressing a kiss there and then down across his beard and caught the strangled sound of a groan in the air before it cut off.
You were insatiable in your need for him as you nipped at the thin skin of his neck, pressing ever closer to him in search of the warmth you knew radiated from him. Impulsively you sucked at the skin of his throat, not considering the hickey you were probably giving him as you listened to the deep rumble of his throat. It vibrated against your lips and you pressed a quick kiss to the spot before moving a bit lower to do the same thing, his body tensing again in response before melting once more.
Fuck. He tasted like the salty prick of sweat and the earth yet you still couldn’t get enough of it. Enough of him. The fingers that you had tangled into his hair pulled and his chin lifted up in response as you continued to mark his skin. As you continued to claim him as your own even though you knew that he wasn’t yours to claim but fuck he was, wasn’t he? That’s right. He was yours. Yours and only fucking yours.
Your body pushed closer as you shoved him back against the door, trapping him against you and the hard surface as you tried to control yourself to no avail. John didn’t seem to mind too much though as you listened to him let out a huff in response and then he was reciprocating. His hands pulled you impossibly closer as strong fingers grabbed at your hips and you felt him roll your body fluidly against his own. He was urging you on without even needing words and good God it was the sexiest thing you’d ever witnessed.
When his other hand ran over the expanse of your bare back you felt his calluses scratch across your skin, and a noise rumbled deep within you in response. Something primal and animalistic and you could feel John’s body shudder against yours in response. It was a noise you’d never made before that had his hands sliding over your skin and grasping harder at your hips. Searching for something neither of you seemed too certain about yet.
Fuck you wanted him though. You wanted to bury yourself inside of him and never pull out again. You felt like a King when he’d done it to you, you could only imagine how you’d feel sliding into his walls. He’d never let you though. But God did you want it, you wanted him. You wanted just about anything and everything he’d fucking give you or let you take. Fingers grasped at the back of your neck, digging hard into the muscle as you rutted your hips against him again.
You could feel yourself harden at just the thought of fucking him like a man gone feral, and you were well on your way to that exact point. “Spe-” his voice sounded strained as a moan escaped and cut off his pleading voice. When you glanced up through dark lashes you could see his teeth biting into his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood and part of you wondered if he had. God why was the thought of that so hot? “Speck,” he finally managed to groan out as your thoughts ran rampant with the many different ways you could ravage him right here in this bathroom. “We need to talk.”
Fuckin hell, John, not right now. The hand you had at his waist slipped around to his front as your hand groped blindly at his hardening length. He twitched beneath your palm as his cock strained for more. “Ya really wanna talk right now?” You could barely catch your breath enough to ask the question and to be fair he didn’t seem much better either. Your heart was racing in your chest and your head felt like it was swimming with so many things you couldn’t even begin to identify exactly what it was. At least whatever had been bothering you before was long forgotten now though.
Without waiting for him to answer your mouth was on his neck again as you pressed a trail of gentle kisses on your way up his neck. One after another they pressed into his skin until you felt the hairs of his beard tickling against your lips and the tip of your nose. He hummed in response for a moment before he finally tipped his head back again and groaned out, “Fuck no. Later.” Unable to resist your teasing mouth you felt his throat rumble against your mouth again with pleasure. Slowly, you made your way along the underside of his jaw with your fingers still pulling at the short strands of his hair to keep his head from tilting back down. You were holding him in place with just your body now and the gravity of the situation was starting to sink in.
You were in control. He was letting you do whatever you wanted to him and he wasn’t stopping you. God you could feel him still straining against the fabric that held his erection at bay, the buttons of his pants straining to keep the fabric closed now. Glancing up you watched his face as something close to a smile found his mouth at the attention you were paying to his neck. At the claim you were steadily etching across his skin in what would be small purple bruises in a few hours. Fuck.
Letting go of his hair, both of your hands made for his waist as you grabbed hard at his sides, your thumbs pressing against the bones of his hips hidden just beneath the muscle there. The moment you released his hair though his chin tilted down and you felt his fingers pull your face back in range so he could press his lips to yours. You pulled him off the door with a sharp tug and spun the two of you around slowly as your hands slid behind to grab at his ass. One palm for each perfectly shaped globe.
God he was perfect. All you could think about was how it would feel to sink inside of him, how tight his walls would grip your poor, neglected erection. What he would sound like and what it would feel like to hear him moan as you fucked him until the only thing his foggy mind could think about was you, and how good you felt. You wanted to fuck him stupid, and christ right now you certainly had the stamina too. God just to fuck him until he came on your cock like he’d done to you so many times already.
A strained moan left you at the thought as his teeth sunk into your lip and you pressed him back slowly into the sink. Without so much as a single thought going through your head your hands grabbed at his backside and you lifted him up sliding him backwards to sit on the rim of the sink. He grunted and you felt him stiffen again as he pulled away with a bit of surprise in his eyes. You froze in place with your hands still holding him tightly and with your hips slotted perfectly between his thighs, just a bit too far for either of you to feel any friction though. “Bloody hell, Speck,” his voice was quiet and just barely reached your ears as he watched your expression.
Dark brows furrowed and you watched the tip of his tongue slide out to wet his lips before he leaned forward to press his forehead into yours. His fingers dug into the locks of your hair that had grown out way too long these past months out here, pulling at the strands with a spark of something unidentifiable in his eyes. When your jaw tensed though you saw his mouth turn into a smirk before he muttered, “You’re always surprising me, Love.” The tension in your jaw dissipated slowly as you watched him without a hint of what was going through your head now.
Slowly your face tilted up until you felt your nose tap against his. When you leaned forward again though he pulled away with a teasing shake of his head. You couldn’t help it when your gaze darted down to his lips and narrowed, before you jerked him forward until he was flush with you once more and nearly falling off the sink. Grinding against him you muttered quietly, “Full of those, ain’t I Angel?” The corners of his mouth turned up just a bit more and this time he was the one who bridged the gap as he pulled at the hair still trapped between his fingers and he captured your lips once more.
It didn’t take long before your head was swimming in him once more. After y’all had been stopped last time that feral need for one another was boiling hot and you needed him. Every single thought was lost in the way he felt pressed against you. Lost in the way he kept one hand wrapped around the back of your head and the other was sliding around your throat and then down your chest slowly.
Blunt nails drug over your bare flesh before you felt fingers pulling deftly at the belt around your waist. You couldn’t help the smile that raised the corners of your mouth as he did. Something far more primal than you’d ever felt was clawing its way across your mind now. As his fingers moved on to the buttons of your pants you felt the friction as it grazed over your sensitive member.
You couldn’t stop yourself as you bucked forward towards his hand, your mouth falling agape with a low groan. John’s amusement came out in a short huff as his hand delved inside of the black cargos, pulling your member free quickly. The moan you let out was sinful before he shot forward to cut it off with a hard kiss. Strong fingers slid along your shaft slowly as he swallowed down your quiet groans that you couldn’t hold back despite your desperate attempts. It didn’t seem to matter though, John had no qualms with keeping them quiet himself at this point.
Fingers wrapped around your length as you leaned further into him with a groan. Begging him wordlessly for more. You tilted your head down and you could hear him give a low hum of appreciation at the weight of you in his hand. Your head had already been swimming before he’d even gotten his hand around you, but now? Now you were drowning in the attention he was lavishing upon you in heaping servings.
Still holding tightly onto his backside you knew you were denting his perfect flesh, dotting it with even more bruises. You couldn’t wait to see them. God just the thought was enough to send you near spiraling again. “Fuck John,” you managed to whisper as his free hand moved up to cup your cheek and his thumb ran over your skin with a delicate touch. It shouldn’t have been so intimate. You’d never meant for this to be sensual, you were in a bathroom for fuck’s sake. This should have been rough, quick, distracting, no room for thought. Yet here you were as he tried to hold your gaze with his. 
The need to be something more would never escape you when it came to him, you knew that somewhere deep down, but you couldn’t deal with that, not right now. His thumb grazed slowly along the head of your cock and you barely stopped another moan as you watched his deep blue gaze, your eyes half lidded and barely managing to stay open now. There was a smirk on his face as he realized he had you like putty in his hands once more despite that for the first time you didn’t want to be.
Fuck it. Your hips rolled forward with a fluid motion as you thrusted into his open hand and simultaneously pushed him further back onto the sink. When his head tilted, your eyes shot down to avoid his gaze and your hand slid over his hip and then around to the inside of his thigh.You drug your thumb slowly over the closure of his pants and your fingers dug into the flesh of his thigh he hummed in satisfaction. “When did you become a tease?” His voice was husky as his hips pressed up into what little bit of friction he could get from your feather-light touch. Meanwhile his own hand was still pumping up and down your throbbing length in slow, careful strokes.
Giving him a nonchalant shrug you answered back in a slow drawl, “What can I say?” You pressed your hips closer as your lips once more dipped in search of his neck, wanting to feel his pulse against your sensitive skin. They pressed lightly against the dark stubble, once more tasting the earth and salt of his skin which for once was absent of his usual chocolatey taste that you knew came from his cigars. When you pulled back again your voice was lower as you rumbled out a quiet, “You bring out the best in me, Angel.”
His chin tilted up just before you felt a heel hook around your thigh and he pulled you closer. The hand that was still around your length stilled. It was like he was frozen in place and in that moment you realized just exactly what you were doing to him. This was a two way street, he felt it too. You were doing to him exactly what he always did to you and you couldn’t stop the smile that bled through as you continued to press kisses against his neck and popped the buttons on his pants. The pulse that thudded beneath his skin almost felt like it quickened against your lips.
However, you were certain you felt it quicken when your fingers slid into the waistband of his underwear to graze over the length of his cock. The man beneath your mouth and touch shuddered and squirmed against you, nearly begging for more before you pulled his length free. Your mouth stopped its relentless assault on his neck as you leaned away for just a moment before your forehead tilted down to lay gently against his shoulder. John copied the motion as you felt his beard scratch against your cheek, the longer hairs grazing over your skin and making it tingle with an itch that you ignored.
Both sets of eyes turned down to watch as your hands moved in sync along the length of your erections. Precome welled from the tips slowly and you could feel his calluses catching along the veins of your cock and you knew that yours were doing the same along his. Especially when you heard a mumbled, “Shite,” into your shoulder as he tried to keep himself quiet. The pressure was building though as your heart began to beat a solid rhythm that you felt not only in your chest but throughout your length as well.
This wasn’t the same as being buried inside him but you’d take what he was more than willing to give. Best not to push your luck for now and you’d take anything he gave you in truth. Twisting your wrist at the head of his cock you heard him gasp before his hand let you go and his head tilted back. “Bloody hell, Speck. I can’t-” You repeated the motion and his words turned immediately into a moan as his head tilted back.
There it was. He was losing himself in the moment as you continued to jerk him off, eating up the sight of him getting lost in the way you could make him feel. His mouth was babbling nonsense as he tried to keep his thoughts together and failed miserably. God almighty, you could listen to these breathless gasps for air and his quiet pants for the rest of time and be completely happy standing right there between his thighs.
Blue eyes disappeared behind pale lids and his cheeks flushed red before your eyes. The collar of his shirt dipped just barely low enough that your gaze could pick out the dark dustings of hair at the top of his chest along with the smallest hint of his collarbone. A treat for your eyes just as much as every facial expression was. Good God he was beautiful and you could feel a near painful throb in your length just as you thought it.
When his cheeks flushed deeper your hips bucked forward instinctively, your cock searching for something and something it found as the head of your dick ran along the underside of his. The moment you felt that little bit of friction you just couldn’t stop yourself as your fingers wrapped around both of your leaking erections. Newfound need had your hand pumping quicker and it was obvious both of you were feeling yourselves getting closer and closer to the finish line. Hell John’s mouth was held agape as he tried to catch his breath while the rest of his body worked relentlessly to reach that peak.
One hand held painfully tight on to your shoulder as the other seemed to dig into the side of the sink. His muscles tightened but it wasn’t the same as last time even though you weren’t sure what he was doing. Not until you felt his hips thrust up towards your hand as he tried to speed his climax along. His member ran along the underside of your own as he moved and you sucked in a breath just barely holding in a long moan and instead let it out in a quiet hiss that was covered up by a soft groan of pleasure. “John,” you paused and he hummed in response with his eyes still closed while your hand continued dragging up and down your lengths. “Angel, you’re being too loud. Someone’s gonna hear us.”
John whimpered deep in his throat before it escalated into another moan and you watched as he tried his best to bite it back. Teeth dug into his bottom lip before he leaned his head forward and forced his eyes open to find you. Blue hues searched your face half lidded and lazy as he gazed at you. The blush across his cheeks deepened and the Brit let his mouth fall open again as he panted into the stale air of the bathroom. “Sp-” Your thumb ran over the head of your own cock and gathered some of the precome before continuing on to graze over the tip of his.
This was a completely different man in front of you now. You’d broken him down and God it felt good to know that you even held that  power over him, over anyone really but especially John Price. Even more though was that you had him at your very whim right now, there was no doubt in your mind he’d have given you anything in that moment. John was completely under your spell and you’d never felt more in control of another human being as you did now. “Shhh sweetheart, I’ve got you,” your voice was quiet as your eyes stayed locked for as long as the other could manage. When you said that you had him though and you implied that he could trust you, that he could let go of that dominant persona he always seemed to exude, that was when the last of his resolve evaporated.
You rolled your hips forward again in a fluid motion and as you did the last hand you’d been holding onto him with shot up. Your palm slapped over his mouth and you just barely managed to muffle another whine that would have undoubtedly given the two of you away. John’s head fell back hard and smacked against something behind him but the both of you were too far gone to really piece together what exactly had just happened. Heads so far in the clouds someone could have been firing a gun outside and you would have been none the wiser.
With your hand still muffling the noises he couldn’t hold back and the way he continued to thrust in your still pumping hand you knew he was about to finish soon and you doubted you were going to get a warning. Not with how he was still panting into your hand and the flush on his face only seemed to get deeper by the second. Hell the throb in your own member was beginning to edge nearly into pain as the pressure continued to build, just aching to be set free. 
Fuck you were close, so fucking close now. You couldn’t help the low grunt you let out as your hand tightened around the heads of your erections. Pumping one more time your eyes darted down as you felt his body stiffen and his cock twitch in your hand. Your eyes landed on his cock just in time to watch his cum paint the back of your knuckles and the front of his black cargos. It almost felt wasteful in that moment but in the next you couldn’t even remember what you were thinking about.
He whimpered against the flat of your palm as his body spasmed once and he thrusted into your hand again, another shot spraying along the head of your cock and dripping slowly down your length. Your eyes darted up to find his beet red face as you quickly continued to pump up and down the length of both of your members. Letting him ride out his orgasm while you still hungrily chased your own.
Slowly his muscles unwound and John slumped back against the wall and mirror behind him. Pale eyelids lifted tiredly and revealed the ocean hues to you once more as you pulled your hand away from his mouth finally. You slid it slowly to his cheek as you cupped his face with one hand, still chasing your own climax with the other to no avail. 
The air was too warm against your skin though. Everything felt too tight and too close even though he still wasn’t close enough. You couldn’t imagine how John felt with his t-shirt clinging to him. God why hadn’t you pulled that fucking thing off of him already? You wanted to see his chest now, that gorgeous fucking body that you knew was hidden beneath as you still tried to find your own release.
It was escaping you though, dancing tantalizingly out of reach. When one of Price’s hands wrapped around your wrist and stopped your rapid chase as he mumbled out, “What’s wrong, Love?” The hand that had been cupping his cheek fell away as you ducked your head and your hand fell away from your throbbing member.
It felt like all the energy dissipated from your limbs the moment he stopped you as you leaned forward and relaxed into his chest. Your forehead nudged lightly against his shoulder as his arms wrapped around you and you felt your length dragging against the fabric of his pants still throbbing painfully as the pressure at the base of your cock begged for release. Your own hands settled at the small of his back as you continued to roll your hips forward against him unconsciously. 
As you turned your face into his neck you answered quietly, “Nothins’ wrong. Just tired.” He hummed his acknowledgement of your statement as his fingers traveled slowly down your back and side until he halted at the bone of your hip, his thumb rubbing slow circles into it as he took a pause. You waited a moment before you questioned him quietly, “Why’d you stop?”
John’s shoulders moved up in a quiet shrug before he muttered out, “Thought you said you were tired.” You pulled back to look at his face and found a lazy smirk on his features before his fingers tightened around your hips to keep you from moving too far away.
Your brows furrowed before you gave him an annoyed huff of an answer, “Tired, Angel, not fuckin stupid.” The smirk turned into a look of amusement as his hand trailed across the muscle of your stomach. John’s fingers wrapped gently around your length as you thrusted up into his hand unable to control yourself. You were already nearly gone before he got here, and he was only igniting that inferno again that you’d been afraid had danced too far out of reach. You should have known better when it came to John Price though.
His hand slid down your length once before he released you and lifted his hand to his mouth. You asked a silent question with a tilt of your head but he didn’t need to respond as he spit into the palm of his hand and returned it just as quickly as he’d pulled it away to your length. The burn of his calluses disappeared as his saliva and cum slickened palm slid over your sensitive skin. A much needed relief as his hand tightened around your length and you felt your release racing forward once more. It was crowding in on you so fast now that the fog in your mind was returning with a vengeance. The fog you’d been chasing earlier and been unable to find shelter in was now clouding every thought as you struggled to remember why you’d even been upset.
Your lips parted in a silent gasp as he trailed his thumb against the underside of your cock and then over the head. Leaning forward you tried to capture his lips for a kiss but he pulled away and instead your chin tilted down and you felt your forehead rest against his chin as you panted into the stale air once more. Your gaze traveled slowly down his front to where his hand was pumping steadily over your member. 
Closing your eyes for just a moment you missed it as he added a second hand to the mix. It was the straw that tipped the scale as you hissed out a quiet, “Holy shit.” There was a pulse in your length and then your whole body went rigid. Your hands fell a bit lower on his sides and you jerked John forward to press his chest to yours. You let your eyes shut for a moment and you somehow managed to hold back a moan that would have most definitely traveled beyond these walls as you focused instead on the way his hand felt still traveling up and down your length.
A moment later your muscles began to unwind as you relaxed into the grip he had around your shoulders and John’s hand pumped slowly as the last vestiges of your climax began to dissipate. Everything stayed silent for a few long moments while you regained your thoughts and the fog over your mind cleared in that post-fuck haze. Even though you had been the one in control he still had your head in the fucking clouds. It wasn’t fair and truly you couldn’t have cared less. Not in that moment
Not ever.
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capt-mactavish · 2 years ago
Text
POW Pt. 2
Summary: Male reader whose part of the 141 gets captured during a mission and the team rallies to rescue them.
Warnings for: Graphic depictions of injury, torture, violence
Pt. 2/?
Captive
Those asked to be tagged: @katsukiarchives @cptg00s3 @peter-the-pan @c0nny3917 @dominos-palast
Hands. 
Everywhere. 
Pushing, shoving, pressing and holding you down. 
Punching, smacking and striking. 
Through the fog of pain and hunger and misery that’s left you feeling numb, the awareness of hands on you- controlling, hurting, manipulating- is painfully clear. 
It burns your skin, searing the unwelcome sensation into your flesh during the day to haunt you in the night when no one is near. 
And just when the burn starts to subside, when you think you can finally muster enough willpower to shut off your senses and get some relief, sunlight glints through your little window, and the cycle begins again.
You try to give them as much hell as you receive, thrashing and kicking and snapping your teeth like a cornered animal. 
Even managed to break a guy's nose with your forehead at one point, and grinned as his blood trickled down your face for a change. 
But your strength was waning, and it wouldn’t be long before you didn’t have the energy to fight back anymore.
Beaten, bloodied and nearly broken, you slump against your restraints. The small comfort of the chair you had been tied to when you first woke here was long gone, and the rope around your neck, now suspended from the ceiling, was the only thing keeping you from falling into a heap on the floor. 
The inky, black darkness of night consumes the inside of your cell as the last of the day’s sun recedes back into the small hole from where it came. You weren’t sure how many sunrises you had endured, having lost count as the part of you that is here slowly started to shut down. 
But through it all you tried not to lose hope in your team. That they would come looking for you, and they would find you. 
It was hard to imagine what that would be like at this point. To even remember what it was like to be free. 
A soft breeze, a gentle touch, comforts took for granted at the time. 
Not that you were here for very long yet. Your hair hadn’t grown and your muscles had not yet begun to atrophy. Still, every day here felt like an age, and the longer you were here, the more you could feel *you* slipping away, becoming an empty husk.
Keeping your team, your friends, in your thoughts at least seemed to slow the decay. Kept you holding on when everything in you told you to let go. To close your eyes and be free. 
But as time went on, when days and nights blurred together in a cacophony of linear progression, now it was becoming difficult to even remember their faces. 
What you wouldn’t do to see Soap again, to hear his laugh and to laugh with him. You knew he would walk through hell for you, as you would do the same for him. And Gaz’s radiant smile. You’re glad he made it out, didn’t have to share your fate, but you knew the man would switch places with you in a heartbeat. Not that you’d let him. 
And Ghost, well, as intimidating as it was at times to be underneath the intense gaze of the Ghost’s eyes, you would give anything now to have them on you. A usually uncanny feeling made comfortable by circumstance.
The Lieutenant worked hard to keep up the appearance of the lone wolf type. But you saw how loyal he was to his team and vice versa. It was telling, whether he realized it or not, about what kind of man he is under the mask, and you felt honored to be picked to be among them. 
And Captain Price, who hand-selected you. Who sees your worth and pushes you to your best. A Captain you’d die for. You’d have to remember to thank him, as absurd as that sounds right now, for the opportunity he gave you. One, despite the current circumstances, you wouldn’t trade for anything.
A smile so subtle it’s nearly undetectable tugs at one corner of your lips as you think of them, momentarily bringing you back to yourself and letting you feel human once again.
Their faces may be muddled in your memory, but it’s these things, these feelings that well up inside you when you remember them, that keep you grounded.
At least for now.
A commotion outside rouses you from your half-awake state and you raise your eyes to see two guards fumbling into your cell and locking the door behind them. They don’t acknowledge you, but they’re speaking to each other frantically, turning their backs to you and pointing their weapons at the entrance. 
Their voices are muffled, but you can sense the urgency in their tones.
This is different. This has never happened before. 
Your cell is still dark, it’s still dead of night, and no one has ever come in here at this hour.
The guards seem on edge. Something must be happening. But through the fog in your head, you can’t conceive of what. You can only focus on the two men standing near you, and how focused they seem to be on the door and not you.
Adrenaline begins to coarse through your veins as you see the opportunity you might never have again. 
Your captors were organized, consistent, and always careful to keep you watched. To keep weapons or anything that could be used as such out of reach of you. Escape attempts, you had learned early, would be futile. 
Whatever was happening now was unplanned, you can tell by the lapse of judgment in the two men guarding you, eyeing the gear well within reach if your arms weren’t bound behind your back. 
And as your heart starts to race, your instincts come back to you, and you begin to tug on your restraints, careful not to draw attention to yourself just yet. 
A few quiet moments pass before gunfire erupts from somewhere outside, and in the sudden commotion you manage to dislocate your thumb and pull one hand free of your bindings before lunging forward to grab the knife at the hip of one of the guards.
In one swift motion you yank it free and bury the blade deep into the side of the opposite guard’s neck.
The other one turns, startled, weapon turning with him, ready to open fire. But with your bindings now loose, the other hand is free to grab and yank his gun, bringing the stunned man stumbling towards you as you rear back and bash him in the face with yours.
The man falls to the ground, cradling his face in his hands, and you waste no time slicing the rope around your neck and freeing yourself before finishing him off. 
After looting the corpses for gear to make your escape with, you make your way to the door and kneel beside it. Peering out the bars of the door to your cell, you quickly scan the corridor before using the key you had lifted off one of the guards to let yourself out. 
Jogging to the end of the hall, you kept your feet light and the knife tucked close to your chest, and peered around the next corner before advancing. 
You had picked a gun off the guard, but with your thumb still dislocated, it made it difficult to hold properly. No matter, it was probably best to stay silent anyway, use the knife until absolutely necessary, lest your captors realize their error and send reinforcements to cut you off.
There was no plan, no strategy you were relying on. You hear shouting above you, and gunfire in the distance, but your only concern is with finding a way up and out of this place. That, and downing any obstacle that stands in your path. 
After that, you hadn’t really thought it through. You’d deal with it when you got there, but at this point anything would be better than captivity. 
---
With Gaz providing cover fire, Soap and Ghost are finally able to breach the compound where they suspect (Y/N) is being held. 
Enemies are light inside, most everyone is outside defending it from the rain of heavy fire they’ve unleashed upon this place. An act of absolute fury at the audacity of taking one of their own, as well as a diversion to get them inside covertly.
Every once in a while they do happen upon a stray fighter or two patrolling the halls, but before they even know they’re no longer alone, the pair are swift to silence them.
As quiet as possible, and with Captain Price in their ear helping them navigate, the two soldiers make their way down into the lower levels. 
The schematic they were able to obtain of the facility showed a sort of cell block formation in the lowest level, so it was clear that's where they would begin their search for a prisoner of war. 
The corridors are dark, long shadows paint the walls and floors and provide excellent cover for the two to move through. Ghost is on point, with Soap closely covering his six.
Rounding the last corner before another descent, the two stop in their tracks when they spot two bodies splayed on the floor at the top of the stairwell, dark liquid splattered and pooling around them. 
Ghost, without looking back at his companion, signals to Soap to stay quiet and alert. These are not their kills, they both know it. They know they hadn’t been to this part of the building yet. So they could only surmise that they weren’t alone. Someone else was also stalking these halls and preying on enemy soldiers. 
It was like something out of a horror movie, Soap thinks to himself, as a shiver runs up his spine. He catches eyes with Ghost when he turns to glance at him, and nods when he’s signaled to follow, but keeps his head on a swivel as they get closer, hair standing on end at the prospect of something else lurking in the shadows.
Moving closer and carefully kneeling down beside them, Ghost examines the bodies as Soap covers him.
The one closest to the top of the stairwell is face down with a puncture wound in the back of his neck, just at the base of the skull. The second one, a little further away, is in a similar position, though the injury to the head and the blood on the nearby railing indicate he was bashed into it before taking a blade to the carotid artery. 
On the ground nearby, partial, bloody boot prints lead away from the bodies and into the darkness where the light above the stairwell doesn’t reach. 
Ghost notes their tread pattern, recognizing it as matching his own. 
Standard issue. 
“(Y/C/S),” the lieutenant mutters quietly, garnering Soap’s attention. 
“(Y/N) did this? He must’ve escaped then,” Soap says, a hopeful tone rising in his voice. 
“Careful, Johnny,” Ghost warns as he rises back to his feet. “We don’t know what kind of condition he’s in, he cou-”
He’s cut off by a commotion behind him, and jerks around in time to see Johnny hit the ground, with a figure kneeling over top of him, holding a knife ready to plunge into his heart. 
“No you don’t!” he hisses, snatching the assailant by the wrist just in time. 
The attacker turns to him, and Ghost’s breath catches in his throat as he recognizes your familiar face. 
Twisted in a feral rage and covered in blood and bruises, but yours nonetheless.
“(Y/N)!” Soap exclaims as he, too, recognizes you.
Though there’s a creeping horror welling up inside him when you don’t respond.
Not even a glint of recognition to your name or even their faces.
And the relief Soap had felt upon seeing you after all this time is replaced by a sense of pure dread as he watches you and Ghost struggle above him.
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captain-mj · 2 years ago
Note
Can we get ex-barracksbunny Simon from your TikTok to finally give Johnny that one chance to treat him so good?
It would be criminal to not answer this lmao. In my brain, this is og soapghost but y’all can view it how you want
Ghost sighed softly as Soap started up again. 
“Come on, LT. Bet I can treat you better than anyone else.” Soap sounded so confident. Ghost was well aware the only reason he kept pushing is because Ghost hadn’t actually said no. If he did, Soap would stop. 
“Don’t think you can MacTavish.”
“You two aren’t on a private line.” Gaz cut in. “Just thought I’d say that.”
“Fuck off, Gaz. Simon, you could at least check for yerself?”
Ghost could hear Price taking a deep breath to scold Soap on how what he was doing was borderline sexual harassment. 
“Alright. You act good on this mission, I’ll give you a chance.” 
Price started coughing, choking on his words.
Soap very slowly, accent thick as honey, “What sir?”
“Don’t get coy now. We’ll talk later. But only if this mission is handled well with no injuries.”
Soap was a goddamn angel. Every order executed with precision. 
Price looked so mad about it. 
After their debrief, Ghost went to his room, planning on a shower. He noticed his shadow quickly.
“Johnny. You’re taking me to dinner first. Tomorrow.  Unfortunately for you, I’ve gotten slightly higher standards.”
“I get to have dinner with you?” Soap followed him, looking at him like he hung the stars. Ghost rolled his eyes.
“Johnny, I’m already going to sleep with you. Now fuck off.” He hit the back of his head. “I’m going to get cleaned up.”
“Will you be taking the mask off?”
“You’ll find out.” Ghost closed the door. 
In all honesty, Johnny’s simp behavior had zero to do with Ghost saying yes. It had been four years since he got laid. After getting captured and... everything that came with it, he just hadn’t wanted to.
His therapist had suggested two days ago that he was touch starved. Normally, he’d brush it off as dumb as hell, but he matched all the symptoms. He was pretty sure she hadn’t meant have sex with the nearest person, but casual touch didn’t seem like enough. 
In his past, he slept around a bunch. It had felt nice. Gave him connection. Was a lot easier than trying to fumble through conversation. 
Who knows. Maybe Soap would be good. At the very least, they’d be pressed against each other for a few minutes. Hopefully Soap had some stamina. 
He texted him. “Dress up nice and pick the place.”
“You got it, LT. Just keep looking pretty.”
Bitch.
Ghost did dress up nice though. As nice as he could. Plain black shirt, nicer black trousers, his ski mask. 
Soap had flowers when he opened the door. Carnations. 
Ghost stared at them for a second before taking them and setting them on his desk. “Thank you.” 
Soap smiled at him and walked with him, immediately talking like it was any other day. Ghost was actually pretty thankful for it, even though he didn’t admit. They were pretending they were just hanging out. Like normal. 
Soap had picked a pretty nice place, catching Ghost off guard. “One check, please.” He told them ahead of time. Ghost tilted his head but let it go.
“So why did you want to have dinner first? Not that I’m complaining.” Soap said the second part quickly, hands going up.
“I didn’t want it to feel like a cheap one night stand afterwards.” Ghost glanced at him. “I have to work with you. I’d like to be able to pretend I respect you in the morning.” He was teasing, moving closer. “Do you mind that much?”
“No. I like that I’m getting to spend time with you.” Soap smiled at him. 
Bastard. 
Simon felt stupid butterflies in his stomach. He squashed them. 
When the food came, he lifted his mask up only slightly. Soap openly stared at him. His eyes traced every feature he could see. 
Ghost started eating a bit quicker. He didn’t normally like being observed but something about the way Soap stared at him made him feel particularly weak. 
Soap smiled softly at him and they kept talking. 
It wasn’t until much later that Soap made a comment about the thing. 
“So... You really let them call you Pretty Boy Riley?”
Ghost blushed and unfortunately Soap could see it this time. “Yes. I did for a while... When I first joined the military, it was my first time away from my family. It was... I had never really got a chance to be out and then suddenly I was not only out but surrounded by a bunch of men who were interested. It’s why I slept around so much.”
Soap smiled at him, seeming genuinely interested. “Makes sense. I came out in secondary school. It was a bit different then.”
Ghost hummed. “Hard to imagine you as a teen.”
“I was a football player too. If you can imagine.” Soap laughed, taking another drink. They’d both went nonalcoholic for today. Probably a smart choice. “I bet you were a theater kid.”
“Nope. In a band.” Ghost laughed. “I was the bassist.” 
“No fucking way. Still play?”
“Haven’t tried it in years, but I could always try to pick up again.” It had been fun. “We were awful before you ask. My brother was the singer. He had my dad’s voice.” 
“Wasn’t your dad in a band?”
“As a drummer.” 
Soap laughed immediately and paid. He drove them since he “didn’t trust Ghost behind the wheel” for some reason. Ghost didn’t really like driving so he rolled with it, enjoying getting to sit passenger. 
Soap’s hand fell on his thighs and he stared, a little taken back. Ghost was ushered into Soap’s room. 
He expected there to be an awkward pause. For Soap to realize what he was doing, but then he was lifting Ghost’s masks up to just above his nose and kissing him hard. His hands were on Ghost’s hips, backing him up. 
“Simon. Can I take the mask off?”
His mouth was too dry to form words so he just nodded. Soap pulled it off of him. 
“I see why they called you pretty.”
“I’m sure the scars are pretty ghastly. Try not to look at them myself.” 
“Still a bonnie even with them, Si. Always will be.” Soap pressed his hands against his chest and Ghost fell willingly, hitting the bed. Luckily it was one of the nicer ones. 
Soap’s mouth was on his neck before he could really think, pinning him down. 
“Told you, Lt. Best you’ve ever had.”
“Cocky.” Ghost spat out but it ended up more of a whine thanks to Soap tugging his hair. They undressed each other in record timing and Soap just wouldn’t stop kissing him, holding his face with his hands running all over him. 
Soap pulled away. “Are you okay if I...” His hands slid between Ghost’s thighs, being... gentle.
Ghost stared at him, finding it a little hard to breath. “Yes. Keep going.” 
Soap nodded and reached under his pillows to grab a bottle of lube. It was half empty and Ghost shoved down any feelings that gave him. He watched him coat his fingers before gently pushing his first finger into him.
“Fuck, you’re tight.”
“Been a while.” Ghost hummed, feeling his face flush. “Should’ve prepped beforehand...” 
“Nah, I like this part.” Soap grinned at him and started to kiss along his jaw. “I’ll return the favor later, yeah?”
“Who says we’re doing this again?” 
“I’m sure you can handle a couple of rounds tonight, right?” Soap kissed him and Ghost relaxed, letting him fit another. The stretch was... fuck it was great. Their chests were pressed together and all he could think about was how warm Soap was. 
Ghost groaned at the third one and he felt Soap’s tongue lick its way into his mouth. He grabbed the headboard, panting.
“Okay, enough. Come on, show me a good time, Sergeant.”
“That an order?” Soap teased as he pulled away. He was still being gentle as he moved him around, lining up. He reached up and grabbed Ghost’s hand. “Just squeeze if you need a break, okay?”
Ghost nodded, though he thought it was a bit silly, and held his hand tighter. Soap leaned over him so their lips were almost touching as he pushed in. 
Ghost groaned before whimpering. Soap paused, looking stunned he managed to get that sound out of him.
“I swear to God Johnny, keep moving.” 
Soap immediately started to push in again as he marked up Ghost’s neck and his shoulders. “How did you hide the hickeys?”
“Never let them make them. You’re special.” Ghost grabbed Soap’s hair and tugged him back down when he went to pull away. “Keep making them.” 
Soap bit him hard and thrust into him, Ghost scrambling at his shoulders with his free hand. He adjusted them slightly and slammed into again, making Ghost whine. Ghost was just about to say some sharp retort when Soap found it, hitting his sweet spot hard. 
Ghost saw stars, moaning softly. He squeezed Soap’s hand hard to ground himself and almost beat the man when he paused.
“Please.” 
Soap didn’t need anymore than that. He started to thrust in hard, hitting the spot over and over again. Ghost’s legs went around his hips as he moved, kissing Ghost every chance he got. 
“Johnny.”
“I got you Simon. What do you need?”
“Just keep doing this.” Simon bit Johnny’s lower lip and made eye contact with him. His hips continued to snap right into Ghost’s who was loving the treatment. Soap’s chest was also very nice to stare at and he got to run his hand over it, feeling the hard muscles under soft skin.
Before long, Ghost couldn’t seem to shut up. Moaning and whimpering as Soap hit that spot over and over again. He kept his eyes closed and felt his legs start to shake. A pressure was building his core and he knew he was going to have to take Soap up on the multiple rounds because he didn’t want this to end yet. 
Soap noticed. No clue how, but the fucker knew and he sped up. His hand bruised Ghost’s hips and he purred when Ghost scratched down his back. It was all so much. Too much. The skin to skin contact made him feel half insane already. 
Ghost pulled him down for a kiss and came, squeezing Soap’s hands so hard he thought he’d hurt him. He shuddered and buried his face in Soap’s neck, feeling warmth spread through him as Soap came too.
“Sorry, i should’ve worn a condom or asked or..” Ghost shut him up by kissing him. 
“Not the best but you’re up there. Your technique needs work.” Ghost flopped back. “You’re a quick learner. I’m sure you can figure it out with experience.”
“Experience? So we are doing this again.”
“If you want...”
“Knew you like me LT.” 
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wjehfshs · 1 year ago
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(If you don’t do requests or your requests are not open feel free to delete)
Omg I saw your fnaf reader and cod and I was looking through your blog and saw u write for Resident Evil and I wanted to ask if you for Resident Evil 8 and cod with a gn!reader that’s a dimitrescu daughter
( I don’t know if this violate your rules sorry)
No this is totally fine! I’m actually watching someone play RE8 as I’m writing this lmao
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GN!reader, reader is a Dimitrescu child/sibling, reader looks very similar to the Dimitrescu sisters/daughters but readers gender is not specified, OOC characters
They had discovered the castle all as one big group
Hearing about the village and how it has a bunch of supernatural stuff they were sent as a giant group for safety
Going through the village was already tough enough but going through the castle stressed the ever living hell out of them, even if there was basically an entire army
Soap was the one Bela managed to capture
Being the oldest and wanting to impress her mother she was ecstatic to have captured one of the soldiers wandering her home
Unfortunately, your mother was busy doing her own thing
So you all just kept Soap locked up
Daniela was flirting with him the whole time as she was the one to watch him
You, Cassandra and Bela were out gathering the others
You were the second youngest, older than Daniela but younger than Cassandra and Bela
Although yes they all had guns and gear you captured them and brought them to the room you were holding Soap pretty easily
“Oh he’s so in love with me” Daniela whispered to the three of you while pointing at Gaz
“Stop it Daniela” you snapped, you loved her really you did but she got on your nerves
She thought every man was head over heels in love with her
Although you thought you had captured every single one of them there was one soldier missing, how did you find that out? Soap has no idea how to be quiet
“Aye, where’s Logan? the sneaky bastard”
“Fuckin’ hell Soap do you ever know when to shut the fuck up?!” Ghost couldn’t help but snap, Soap had just given away that there was one more solider missing, their only hope
“[name], would you be a dear and go grab him for us?” Bela turned to you with a grin, she had always been the one to give orders
Without saying anything you dashed out the room, darting around to try and find him
Logan was in the library, wracking his brain as to his he could possibly defeat four, tall
 things? AND save everyone else
He was just about to open the door out to the hallway when we felt himself be lifted from the ground
Pulling him up by the back of his jacket, you spun him around to face you like he was a cat being held by the scruff of its neck
“Annoying little thing” you snarked at him, dashing back to the room everyone else was
He didn’t even have time to think
Daniela snatched him out of your arms and held him out by his arms “He’s so cute! Like a little doll, I feel bad about eating him” she whined and giggled
“Daniela put him down” you snapped, you had always been the one to keep Daniela in line.
She reluctantly dropped him as he tried his best to cushion his fall
“Logan! You okay?” Hesh’s voice was filled with worry as he pulled his little brother up by the arm
Logan just simply nodded, never really being a man of many words
You picked up König, by the back of his vest
“We should eat this one first, don’t want all the meat to go to waste” you remarked
“This one looks unwashed 😒” Cassandra bent down to look Graves in the face
You couldn’t help but laugh
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jolalibrary · 2 years ago
Text
borrowed.
simon ghost riley x f!reader (helen)
wc: 1.2k | simon has helen, on borrowed time. dedicated to @guyfieriii who has made my confidence with writing spice grow tenfold to achieve not only this but a trio of soap. thank you, love. you’re amazingness has no bounds. an: to all those who requested it, here’s a lil’ spicy helen x simon
simon ghost riley masterlist
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She’s beautiful even when she doesn’t think so. 
All swollen lips, eyes swimming in want as she stares up at him. 
Best of all, she’s pliable like this, letting him walk her back until she’s pressed against his door. Her feet following his movements in an awkward shuffle until the handle digs into her side, his hand guiding to the side as his belt buckle presses against her upper stomach. 
Ghost admires her for a moment. Stealing a second that he’s been graciously gifted—one where he can capture her like this, with her underwear and trousers around her ankles. His fingers having wrenched them down as soon as he got her here, having seen that look in her eyes. The same one that was likely in his.
He suspects the cold is kissing her legs as he runs his tongue across his teeth. Half-wanting to run his palms over them, leave goosebumps before he tends to other areas of her. 
She stares into his eyes. Likely counting in her pretty little head until he makes his move.
It’s intentional that all she can see is his eyes, lips and chin. The rest shrouded with his mask. Her whispers of, leave it on, still, dancing in the air. 
Then she speaks, filling the space between them with new words, ones which she spits with the aim of spurning.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Casper.”
Fuckin’ hell.
He smirks. The same one which he knows makes her throb—makes her lick her lips and clench her thighs. “Wouldn’t think of it, Helen.”
The air vibrates with want and tension, so much so, he snaps first. Something which rarely happens. 
His lips crashing against hers, silencing any more quips and smothering her sarcasm. The two of them find a rhythm—their rhythm. 
Her hand flat against his back, fingers grasping, nails digging; his on her waist, sliding down, before they’re passed her belt, her back pockets—
She yelps as he lifts her by the back of her thighs. A noise he quiets with his tongue sliding behind her teeth. 
Her legs wrapped around him, pulling him as close as he wants to be—as he needs to be. Wishing the clothes on her body would burn off just by looking at them. 
The thought twisted inside of him, spurning him on as he flattened her spine to the door, pressing her against it with his hips. And fuck if he doesn’t want to make this last, fucking ruin her in slow strokes that make her eyes wild with lust and his name fall in soft, repetitive chants. 
But he’s on borrowed time as it is. 
Slow, purposeful fucking is for when the sights outside the window are clouded in British weather and the mattress under them is memory foam than army-regimented.
He props her, frees one hand, sliding it between the two of them as he feels her—runs a finger through the soaked seam of her cunt. She whimpers, soft and desperate, and he knows what that means: Don’t fuck around, Simon. 
And he won’t. 
Couldn’t. 
Fucking doesn’t. 
Too desperate to slide his fingers into her, feel how much she wants him, how hot she is. He’s missed the way she clenches around him, how she has to pull her lips from him—landing her forehead against his shoulder as he fucks his fingers inside of her. 
“Fuck, baby.” 
He doesn’t pause, continuing his torment—even if the naming is new. She’s called him babe on occasion, baby even less so. But, he doesn’t hate it—somewhat even likes it. 
Then her hand stops him, wrapping around his wrist—barely able to get her fingers all the way around. 
“No more. Need your cock.”
If he was maskless, she’d see his brows in his hairline. His throat suddenly dries, fingers sliding free from her slick walls. 
“If I’m going to be without you for a while, wanna feel you for as long as possible.” 
Ghost understands with ease, and Simon understands but hates it. Nodding, brief and curt. Time ticking on, the timer running out on what they could both have. 
So, it’s precise—military. 
Her legs on the floor, hands at his belt. She removes clothing from him with the same directness she treats wounds. One after the other. 
And he lets her. Her needing this as much as he needed her. It’s why he doesn’t argue when she turns her back to him, palm flat against the door, the other against his thigh, leveraging herself for him. 
“Break me, Simon.” 
He won’t. But, fuck—the way she said it made him throb and twitch. His need pulsing in his stomach and his stomach, bending her slightly, admiring the curve of her back. 
Then the air is punctured with half-gasps blended with half-moans as he takes her, sliding his cock through her walls in one stroke. 
He laps at her neck, before kissing it—the scent of her shampoo, salty sweat and that one spritz of perfume she allows herself, all coating his nostrils. 
It’s not rough, but it’s not gentle. He fucks into her as though marking himself—stretching her, hearing the evidence of it as he slams his hips against her. 
He bites that same part of her shoulder, the one he claims, sucking it until its shades change. 
“Baby, I’m close, so close
”
There it is again. 
His hand clamped around her waist, holding her in place as he hurried the pace. 
“Touch yourself f’ me. Can you do that?” 
She nods. To happily, too. And he hears it before he feels the evidence of her doing as she’s told—clamping down, wrapping around him so delectably he wants to fuck the mission off. He wants to stay here, between her legs, her hand on his thigh; he wants to spend time fucking her on her back, have her sat on top of him—letting him see how blown her eyes can get. 
All of it is made worse by the noise she makes—the way she erupts, blooming, tensing and relaxing all at once as his name pelts the air like a firework. 
Simon. 
It’s breathy, wrapped in a moan and sin. And it’s everything. It’s more than that, even. It’s his. All his. 
That thought—that one singular thought making his thrusts quicken, rushing reluctantly to his own pleasure. 
And it hits the air. Her name. Her real name. 
The one he uses sparingly, if at all. The one he lets roll around the back of his tongue, but never let fall past his lips. 
It takes a moment or two, slipping out of her, feeling her turn to face him—lifting up on her tiptoes as she presses a kiss to his lips. 
Both a thank you and a goodbye; a be safe and a come back to me—before her fingers tug down his mask, letting Ghost take full ownership as Simon filters back. 
She dresses in silence, as does he. The two practised at this, and yet still so poor at goodbyes. The time is unknown from now until he can touch her again, wishing he could leave her with more than a fuck against the door and a handful of taps. 
“I know,” she says. 
And she does. He knows she fucking does. It’s why he lets her wrap her arms around him again, hugging him—his arm wrapping around her waist, helping himself to one last moment to carry him through.
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whaleofatjme1920 · 2 years ago
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gahhhh i love your work sm!! perhaps reader comforting the 141 + König and Horangi if possible? something along the lines of like you were away on a mission for too long, you nearly died, they had a really tough mission, or maybe even that they just a bad nightmare </3
Task Force 141: Real World Nightmares
[GN!Reader]
[Warnings: Like, none?]
[AN: Hi love bug, I only accept 5 characters per ask so I'm only doing Task Force 141. Also thank you so so much!! I also don't,,, know about about Horangi at this moment and I'm a certified Konig hater /lh]
Reblogs are appreciated!
Captain John Price
It's hell waiting to see if you're still alive. Pacing the halls, unable to think straight and far too aggressive with anyone that even asks if he's doing alright. Price doesn't handle your life being on the line very well.
He's been waiting for correspondence from you. Hours feel like weeks. You're supposed to come back to him. He hasn't bothered to change out of his gear, not when he's posted by the door hoping you'll walk through it.
When you do? He feels the world roll from his shoulders. He holds you tight. He's not emotional in the sense of crying, I don't think any of them really would, but he does that thing where he like, chastises you for taking so long to get back to him.
He checks you over, quickly, just to make sure you don't have any life threatening wounds. You're okay, rough, but generally okay. He can't let you go, won't let you go.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
A bit more neurotic when making sure you're alright. He almost gets lost in his head when waiting for you with bated breath. The moment things start to go wrong for you, he wants to figure out plans to help and get you out. Kyle isn't so clouded by his emotions that his judgment goes to hell but he's not the best at decision making either.
Price will tell him to sit down, might argue with him just a bit, but overall, Kyle listens to Price. Price knows you'll handle yourself, and even though the situation it awful, you'll be just fine. You're slippery and intelligent. And they're working on helping you.
Kyle, naturally, is the first to actually find you in the heat of it all. Slides up beside you, thankful he's at your side while the two of you are pinned for a moment or so and all he can think of is protecting you. You look a little worse for wear, but he knows it's nothing too bad physically.
You'll both make it. Eventually, after managing a tricky escape, he holds you. He's much more affectionate and spends more than enough time saying how much he loves you but it's for good reason. He can't bear the thought of actually losing you.
Johnny "Soap" MacTavish
Instantly wants to come get you. Hearing you've been captured makes him lose most of his rational thought. He has to be held back from just storming in. And it's not that Johnny is a bad strategist, he just really can't stand the thought of something bad happening to you when he could have been doing something rather than sitting around!
He eventually reels himself in and gets the others to come up with a plan, still working quicker than what's considered sane after getting confirmation you're 'okay.'
Coming to get you makes him feel everything all at once. He's focused on being disciplined and deadly accurate. He won't play around with your life.
Seeing you is the biggest relief. He holds you so tight, squeezes you and doesn't let you go. He's so sweet in making sure you're alright without smothering you in the same way others might.
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Quite clinical! He tends to care so deeply about other people it hurts. Doesn't know when to reel in his own empathy despite hiding it so well. You hold his entire heart, and if anything happens to you, it'll break. To protect himself, but more importantly you, he needs to keep you safe.
He's got plans about everything brewing in his head. I think Ghost likes to think of every possible route in case things go wrong, and unfortunately that means he was also expecting something like this. He's on it, everyone else is on it.
You're... he's afraid you won't make it through the night once he finally gets you in his arms. He sees the loss of his loved ones flash in his eyes as he holds you when you make it out of surgery to recover. Squeezes your hand, rests near you and gives you space while also clinging so tightly to you. He knows he won't and can't live without you.
You eventually fall deeper into sleep. He watches. His eyes are stuck on you, can't look anywhere else. Won't look anywhere else. There's still a chance you won't make it. He hates that his nightmare might finally become true.
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ghostssimp · 2 years ago
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//ass beating//Simon Ghost Riley
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A/N
So, this is first one of me on Tumblr. Still not sure how this really works, so I hope I did good for first time.
Usually I write on wattpad, but I wanted to try something new and do some one-shots.
Sorry for the mistakes, or grammar english is not my first language, but I hope you enjoy this. And I'm open for requests!
Ghost wasn't easy on anyone. Including you. Wasn't easy from the first day that you entered the room, joining the team. You don't blame him entirely. You didn't like him either.
At least that's what you kept telling yourself.
He's been on your mind lately, and it annoyed you. The way his hooded eyes watched your every step. The way he stands close to you when the two of you argue over anything. The way he walks. The way his hips sway. The way he is huge before you. He was the giant that seemed to wait to crush you under his foot.
But you? Oh you were the little thorn in his eye. You knew how to give him hell out there. You were so stubborn and he couldn't gain control over you. You were sure that's the reason he couldn't stand you. You didn't let him bark you around. You couldn't be silent.
And now, it made him go mad.
Price sent you Ghost and Soap to a mission. You and Soap went well togehter, the two of you talked through the whole mission. That's what got on Ghost's nerves, there wasn't even a minute of silence. Most of the time, you don't even want to talk that much, but you loved doing it because it was going on his nerves.
The three of you had to question one of the puppets of mafia to find out where the boss is hiding. He got to codes of important locations and he had to be eliminated.
Ghost throws pictures on the table. It was younger man, with brown styled hair up, facial beard that's neatly done and piercing cold blue eyes. He looks like he's in good shape and pretty good looking.
"Damian Ergala. He's the leader of a nightclub Midnight. Highly secured, can mostly be seen there. We can't just barge in and make a mess, it will end up everywhere and we're back at the beginning." Ghost spoke crossing his arms. His sleeves were pulled back so his tattoos are visible and his arms are flexing. It made you look for a bit.
"So what we do then? Go in and get him while he's all alone?" Soap frowns looking at the two of you. You shake your head, coming to an idea. "Negative. He's never alone if he has such a security. I've got one idea."
You meet Ghost's hooded eyes. He didn't look like he cared, but Soap was all ears. "Well, let's hear it we don't have whole damn day." Rolling your eyes at Ghost, you give a little devil smile at Soap.
You sit at the bar, loud music banging in your ears. There's a coctail in your hand that you ocassionaly bring to your red painted lips. You're at your best right now. Hair curled up sprayed on your shoulders, make up, luttle tight red dress and black heels. When you met with Soap and Ghost, Soap whisteled while Ghost was looking you up and down.
Soap should be somewhere near, while Ghost is watching your back from the shadows. You're waiting for Damian to show himself somewhere.
When you said your plan, Ghost didn't agree on first. He again didn't like it because it was your plan you thought. Soap said it was brilliant, and it would be easy. It was, and you should be over with it in a blink of an eye. And it made you feel relaxed, to get ready and go out even if it was for a mission. You don't remember when was the last time you were dolled up and gave yourself a chance to drink. Luckily it didn't have a bad influence on you, you could drink a lot without even getting buzzed.
A warm hand found the bare place of your back and your head turns slightly to see Soap looking you up and down. All part of an act of course.
"What a pretty lady like you does here all alone?" he leans a little closer so you can hear him over the music. Chuckle bubbles through you as you bite your lower lip. "Oh, you know. Just here to capture someone. Maybe kill him whatever." Soap laughs at you.
"Can the two of you focus?" Ghost's annoyed voice came through the earpiece. You roll your eyes. "Lt, don't be bitchy because you didn't get all the fun."
"That's not my kind of fun." Of course. Ghost wasn't a type of person that would go out and party. He wasn't the person to get wrecked and wasted. He is calm and steady. He is all nose in the work. You knew it and it made you like him. But you loved to tease him.
"Yeah we know, your kind of fun is being closed in your room in the dark, probbably touching yourself." Soap gave you a side eye and a little smile. You bite your lip. Okay, you would never say that to him, so probbably you had a little too much to drink.
"Banshee, focus on the mission more, and less on my night routine or else I'll bend you over and fucking beat your ass." Your face flushed and Soap laughed out loud. You clear your throat, as your eyes fell on a figure among the crowd. Damian entered the party.
You catch Soaps hand and pull him to the floor. "Let's dance pretty boy." The two of you were in the middle of dance floor, dancing with each other. Few times you had to put Soap's hands on your waist because he didn't want to make you feel bad, but if he didn't you wouldn't look convincing. Damian finally catched your eye, and looked as you lowered yourself down, never breaking the eye contact. "Banshee, calm down." Ghost's rough voice came again. "I'm going in." You pull away from Soap and walk through the crowd. Damian sat alone with bodyguards. As you approached, he spreaded his legs more and you swear you saw him flex his muscles. His bodyguards looked over him when you stopped in front of them, and he nodded to them.
Few minutes in, and you were seated next to him, his arm arround your shoulders, while his other hand found the inner of your leg. "What do you say we take this somewhere more private?" Your fake smile was all it took him to bring you into his private room.
His lips found your neck as his hands grabbed your ass. You laugh as you push him away. "Calm down tiger, you can't get everything at once." He groans and wants to take another step towards you, but you pull out a knife that was well hidden and put it to his throat. His eyes went wide and his breath hitched. "Oh, you didn't really think you'll get some, did you?" You rise your eyebrow. His brows furrowed and you can visibly see he's mad.
"You won't get far with the bodyguards at my door." Just then, the two men barged through the door. Glowed hand with skeleton print pulled the gun next to your head and he pulls himself closer to you so your breath hitches a little.
"Think twice." Ghost says into your ear and shiver runs down your back.
When it was all over you were retreated in your room, getting in some sweatpants and a top, washing all the makeup of you. Knock on your door took you by surprise. You open it to see one of the rookies. He jumps a little when you open the door with a little stern look. "Uh, sorry to disturb you, but Lt. Ghost asked for you." I frown at the young man. "For me, why? Where?" Why would he need you? You did pretty good job out there today. Maybe not pretty good for him.
"He didn't say. He's in his room."
As you stood in front of Ghost's doors, a lot of thoughts roamed through your head. What bothered him now? What did tick him now? You were all great today. You knock on his door, heart pounding when he answers to you to come in. The door closes behind you. He's sitting in his chair, his mask lifted while a cigar danced between his lips. He's still in his full gear, feet up on a table.
"You called?" He puffs a smoke and puts out the cigar. "Yeah." You shift in your place, not sure what to say. "I don't understand, why." He rises from his chair, slowly walking towards you like you're some kind of pray and he's going to eat you alive. His hips sway slowly as he comes closer. Now, inches between two of you, you're sure he can hear your heartbeat.
Suddenly, his hand held the back of your neck and he made you look up at him. "Why? Because you've been a bad girl today, Y/N." He said it. He said your name. You don't remember if he ever did, but when he did, it made shivers go down your back. "Looking so dolled up, dancing on my mate, flirting with the enemy, talking back at your Lt. You remember what I said to you?" Your chest rised faster with his words as you frown.
"What did you said, Simon?" You bit your lip as his eyes go wild. He let go of you and walks few steps away breathing deeply. He turns arround and looks at the table. Within a second, he pushes it with his leg and it stops in front of you. You confusedly look at it and then back at his eyes. Something shifted in them. Lust.
"Bend the fuck over, and don't expect to be able to walk tommorow. People will hear why we call you Banshee while I pound in you and you scream my name."
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spades-dragon · 2 years ago
Text
Captured - SoapGhost
Ghost PoV
TW: violence, mentions of blood
Short summary:
Ghost got captured during Shepard's betrayal and is being interrogated.
All he could make out was a ringing sound. It was all around him in the darkness. The only thing that existed. It penetrated his ears so deeply. The space, no, more like the sound around him was spinning. He felt so sick.
A touch like thunder interrupted the spinning for a brief moment. It hit his head with an ungodly force, making his whole body tremble. His eyelids fluttered for a second and revealed a blinding light. Too bright, he thought. Only then he realized, his eyes had been closed this entire time. He attempted to open them again, but the light burned in his eyes. The ringing became even louder at his second attempt. All of his senses seemed to be in overdrive. Something wasn't right. What was happening?
"Good morning, Skullface! Or should I say Ghost?"
He was barely able to make out the words. There was too much noise. He was still trying to figure out what was going on.Then it hit him.
He had been captured. He had been separated from Soap. But how? It just didn't make any sense.
Suddenly, another strike went through his body. His eyes shot open and his hands clenched to fists. He was ready for another one. Although, it did take a while for him to finally get used to the brightness surrounding him. The light felt almost sterile. Slowly gaining his eyesight back, Ghost noticed something else. He couldn't move. He. Could. Not. Move. Quickly, he scanned his surroundings. He was strapped to a wooden chair in the middle of a nearly empty room. A guy stood above him. Soap? No.
"Hey! I'm talking to you, fucker!"
He lifted his head slightly, just enough to glare at the man who towered over him. But his vision was just too blurry to make out, who it was. The spinning intensified and it just made him feel even more sick. Ghost was sure he would have to throw up if it didn't stop.
"It's so much more fun to be doing this while you're awake, you know?" - "Shut up!"
Ghost growled while struggling against his restraints. The ties were cutting into the skin around his wrists. The guy raised his hand. Another hit to his face followed, he felt it in his whole body. Ghost hissed in pain. "Haven't had enough yet?" Ghost stayed silent in reply. He simply didn't have the strength to say anything. What the hell happened?
"Listen, all we want to know is where the sergeant is hiding. So you tell us and we might make all of this a little easier on you."
The sergeant? Soap.
Memories flashed in his mind. Graves. The betrayal of Shepherd. Alejandro. Soap being shot at. His eyes widened. He himself had been captured. Him and Alejandro. Soap had been shot. He remembered seeing the blood. Where was he? Was he okay?
If they were questioning Ghost about his location, at least that meant they hadn't found him yet. Ghost sighed a sigh of relief.
"You want to tell me where he is? Shepherd and I, both, would love to find him."
Ghost looked up again, right into his capturer's eyes - Phillip Graves as he now came to realize. Having gained back some of his strength, he shook his head without breaking eye contact. Even if he wanted to, he had no idea where Soap could have gone to. He just prayed for his safety.
"It's not like I did expect you to tell me. However, you are still opposing a direct order from Shepherd himself. And while we're at it..." Ghost felt a hand slip under his balaclava. "Aside from disobeying orders, it is also quite disrespectful to not at LEAST show your face." And with those words, the cloth was ripped away from his face.
"Hello there, Simon."
Ghost shuddered. He hated this feeling. He felt so exposed. It was like his only safety blanket had been taken away from him. The only protection he had. More protection from himself than anybody else at this point. Of course, concealing his identity was part of it, but he grew into the role of 'Ghost' through this simple piece of fabric. The only person he could stand to be. Someone fearless, someone strong, someone who wasn't being held back by his past. Without it, he was just Simon and this realisation hit harder than any of the hits he had received.
"You know, you don't have to tell me anything. We can just have a little fun together. Like the good old days." Graves reached for something outside of Ghost's view. "Then again, I don't think we ever really did have those. And I also think it's going to be a bit more fun to me than it will be to you."
Ghost felt something cold run across his throat. A knife, he assumed. Then, all of a sudden, he felt a sharp pain in his hand. He didn't want to even look at it. But curiosity got the better of him. In horror he stared at his hand. The blade had cut through it completely and was now stuck in the wooden chair. The pain came in waves, with every beat of his heart it stung more. Blood was seeping through the edges of the wound.
Ghost felt dizzy again. "Now, would you like to share the location of your little friend? I'm sure he would absolutely love to see you again in one piece." The nails of his injured hand were digging into the wooden armrest as he spat on the floor.
"But I see, you're not much for talking right now." This was the first time, Graves had turned his back on Ghost. "Don't worry, we can talk later." With those words Graves walked out of the door.
The knife was left where it was, hurting more by the second. He carefully tried to wiggle his fingers, making sure none of them were injured. To his surprise, even though there was a blade embedded in it, his hand seemed to be fully functional. Overall, he had a massive headache accompanied by nausea, they had probably knocked him out to capture him. He didn't really remember anything. His wrists were tied down with zip ties and his legs felt like they had received the same treatment.
After assessing his physical condition, he began trying to process everything that just happened. He had been captured and taken to whatever this place was right after Shepherd and Graves had betrayed them. Alejandro and him had been taken by the Shadow Company, but Soap had managed to escape. Now Graves was after Soap. Nobody else could be trusted.
A sinking feeling spread in his chest. They were completely on their own. Nobody would be coming for them. Aside from Soap that is. He was most likely their only chance to make it out alive.
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annaphoenix1994 · 2 years ago
Text
Perfect Mouth
Masterlist:
Not only does Simon love the words that come out of your mouth, he loves what you can do with it.
“Bloody fucking hell. That mouth is perfect.”
Tumblr media
Tags: Smut/Blowjob/Riding/Marking Each Other/Spanking
Possible TW’s: Brief use of morbid and cruel jokes between Simon and Soap.
You and Simon had been sneaking around to be with each other during the downtime of your deployment. Most cases of sex having to be rushed and quiet as you both were on strict time schedules.
“You look lonely. I can fix that.” You whispered in a teasing tone as your hands swiped over his shoulders.
“Now’s your chance to prove it.” He growled, his tone muffled by the balaclava.
His gaze was sharp and primal. He wanted to tear you apart for teasing him during the convoy on the way to a new base. You would purposely graze your fingers over the inside of his thigh while he would sneak a grasp at your ass. There was no stopping the constant foreplay between you two.
Even when you took your shower, you purposely walked by the open door of his room clutching your shirt over your breasts instead of putting it on, knowing he would look your way and get jealous of the thought of possibly someone else seeing you.
He had just gotten out of the shower and changed into a clean uniform before going out on guard duty for the night.
Perfect.
Waiting until after midnight, you snuck out of the barracks and to where he was on duty. It was a small hunting-blind-type shelter, which was hard to see in the daylight, let alone the dark. Even though you knew where it was, it was still hard for you to see.
Once finding the entry, you walked in to see him sitting on point with his back turned to you as he acknowledged your presence. You both knew what was going to happen tonight. The sexual tension between the pair of you was enough for your peers to notice.
You felt his breathing shudder as you touched his shoulder. You smelled the muffled scent of his deodorant (he wears Axe chocolate - you can’t change my mind) as you leant over his shoulder, you chuckled as he had been bickering back and forth with Soap who was also on guard duty on the opposite end of the base. “Oy, two goldfish were in a tank. One turns to the other and says: do you know how to drive this thing? Little Army humor.”
“Very funny,” Soap snickered. “Why don’t shrimp share?”
“Why?”
“Because they’re shellfish.”
“Good one.”
“I got another one for ya.”
“Go.”
“What do you call Iranian popcorn?”
“What?”
“A terrorist.”
Ghost breathed a chuckle, “That’s fucked up.”
“You need some company?” You asked him in a whisper.
“I’ll never deny your company, sweetheart.”
You had other thoughts on your mind, the sexual tension between the two of you rising since you entered the blind.
He sat with his legs apart, comfortable.
“What kind of company would you want?” You asked in a teasing tone.
“I’m fine with whatever you offer.”
You bit your bottom lip before standing in front of him, watching his dominant gaze look over your features. He didn’t eye your body like you expected - he never did. Not that you weren’t attractive to him, you were, but he favored looking into your eyes more. He could tell your exact emotions through your eyes - something that he knew not many men looked at when looking at their partner. “You look lonely. I can fix that.”
“Now’s your chance to prove it.” He growled, his voice muffled by his balaclava.
Seeing the spark of arousal in your eyes, he watched you straddle his lap, setting his rifle aside to lean up against the wall as his hands went straight to your waist. He couldn’t help the blood that rushed to his groin. You couldn’t help but grind into him as your hands rushed to the bottom of his balaclava. You hesitated for a moment, expecting him to stop you, but he didn’t. You rolled his balaclava to where it exposed his lips, capturing them with your own, your nostrils filling with the smell of his aftershave.
His hands gripped your hips tighter, pulling you closer to him, irritated because of the tactical vest strapped to his chest. You felt his erection pressing into your thigh, giggling into his mouth before moving to your knees between his thighs and moving your hands to where they rested at his belt. “Fucking hell.” You heard him grumble.
You hummed, removing his length from the confines of his boxers. He was staring down at you, breathing heavily as you took him into his mouth. You took him into your hot mouth inch by inch until you physically couldn’t take him completely. You splayed your tongue along the bottom of his shaft before sucking a bit harder once at the tip of his aching length, a satisfying pop! leaving your lips. You held eye contact with him as you did so before going back down on him again.
“Bloody fucking hell,” He groaned. “That mouth is perfect.”
His hands found their way to your hair, messing up your bun to his own pleasure. He couldn’t help but buck up into your mouth, the heat and moisture driving him crazy. You had been giving him the perfect mixture of sloppy and sensual work with your mouth, feeling the familiar heat between your legs pulsing with excitement and clenching over nothing.
You then stood to your feet, his gaze fixating to your stomach as you loosened your belt. The sexual tension between you two was almost too much as the both of you seemed to want to rush to lovemaking. “If you don’t hurry, I’ll cut them off of you.” He groaned playfully. You smirked, removing your boots before the pants followed, purposely keeping your underwear on to tease him.
You straddled him, feeling the tip of his cock pressing against your covered core. He breathed heavily with irritation as he had another problem keeping him from penetrating you. With no hesitation, he eased you back on his lap, you watched as he cut the underwear from your hips. “I told you - don’t tease me.” He graveled as he tossed the underwear to the side before easing you back to where you were lined up with him.
His hands held your hips as he helped guide you onto his length, not once forcing you on him as you slowly took his length. You moaned, gripping his shoulders as you couldn’t help but clamp around him. A guttural hiss came from his lips as he looked to where you both were joined. He was pleased with how you stretched to accommodate his size.
You rolled your hips on him, begging for friction against your clit as the way he was sitting was the perfect position to rub your pelvis on his, although the gear he had around his waist was making it harder for you, but you weren't giving up on achieving your orgasm. He felt too good to care about taking his gear off. "Not yet," He panted, holding your hips close to his, keeping you from continuing your rhythmic pace. "Don't go too fast. I want to savor you."
You groaned at his words, rewarding him with another kiss.
He ignored Soap's eager tone to tell another joke through his comm, knowing he would probably cuss him out if he were to reply right now. You let him control your pace as he enjoyed the warm feel of you enveloped around him. Fucking hell.
A thin layer of sweat beaded on your forehead as you were begging to orgasm at this point, but he felt like he was just getting started. His orgasm was on the horizon, but he loved when he reached his orgasm at the same time you did.
"Come for me, baby." You whispered into his ear, moaning at the sudden grasp of your buttocks by his strong hands.
He groaned, moving your hips faster as the sudden friction of his pants against your clit had your orgasm coming at a rapid pace. He felt you clench around him before you could even hum the beautiful song of your sweet release before he released his spend the same time you did, slowing your hips down to savor every last drop.
You slumped on him, the pair of you panting as you peppered kisses along his neck. You could still feel him pulsating inside of you, but you didn't care to even move. "I'm going to volunteer to go on guard duty more often." He sighed.
"And let me guess, I'm volun-told?" You bit your lip with excitement.
"You've never been more right, sweetheart."
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chil2de · 4 years ago
Note
Your sharing a bed with the JJK men hc's were incredible đŸ˜© special mentions for Megumi's bed head, Nanami being a secret cuddle bug, and Yuuta having to drink both iced coffees (that fucking sent me fjdndnfd I could picture it so clearly).
You're super talented so could I, er, possible get a NSFW version? 👀 đŸ’łđŸ’„đŸ’„đŸ’„đŸ’łđŸ’łđŸ’„đŸ’łđŸ’„
Thank you so much đŸ„ș💕
hello anonie!!! thank you dear i’m so glad you liked them!! please the credit card emojis had me cackling LMFAOOOO you really made my whole day out here!!!(THE ICED COFFEE WAS MY FAVOURITE PART TOO)
well i managed to hit the max amount of characters allowed in a tumblr post with five characters alone so i’m going to have to split this up into several posts. it just kinda happened ig
characters in this post: itadori yuuji, gojo satoru, okkotsu yuuta, fushiguro toji (megumi was supposed to be here but i had to reserve him for next post😔)
this work is nsfw. if you’re new here, please read my disclaimer before proceeding. thank you and enjoy!
based off of this post
itadori
- itadori would prob be a ‘deer in the headlights’ if you woke him up in the middle of the night
- but after that? shit, he’s so nice to you. so kind and generous for his baby girl. whether he’s fucking you ‘cause he thinks you might be able to sleep after an orgasm or there’s just an incessant desire for him- doesn’t really matter all that much to itadori. he loves you either way :)
- gets horny so easily LMFAO
- would 100% dick you down if you asked him to and i like to think that he still keeps his really sweet personality during sex cause aaaa he would be so soft and reassuring
- hardcore dom yuuji sounds sexy as all hell but let’s be real
 this man won’t kill a fly and apologises for stepping on ants. only exception being angry sex but overall reserving hard dom for sukuna :)
you pepper tiny kisses onto itadori’s face, treating him with the utmost care like handling fine china. his skin feels so soft against your lips, and he smells very faintly of milky soap. there’s some traces of brand cologne on his shirt, as well as his natural scent.
“yuuujiii-“ you coo, blowing air very gently. when he doesn’t stir, you run your fingertips through a bundle of his cotton candy tainted hair. it evokes a reaction from him, so you continue to press him.
“y-uuuu-ji!”
after a few moments, itadori lets out a soft whine before grumbling incoherent blabber. “i won’t eat the pineapple! kugisaki will scream at me!”
you giggle before prodding him again, when finally he relents and jolts awake, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted at how close your face is to his.
“‘s it morning yet?” he wrinkles his nose, stifling a yawn. you emit a hum in thought before wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling you into him. itadori squeaks in surprise when he feels you latch your lips onto his neck, suckling and carefully breaking the bonds underneath his sensitive skin. his moan comes out groggy, still laced with sleep.
“that drives me crazy, you know that, right?” itadori laughs, though his voice comes as a wobble.
“i know. and they look so good on you too, hm?” you giggle, caressing one hand from his neck and then down to the hem of his shirt. your fingertips flutter against his bare skin and he shivers physically and audibly. you smooth your palm flat along his chest, dragging your nails carefully against his muscles.
“kinda.. wanna.. go to.. sleep.. but i don’t.. wanna fall asleep
” itadori mumbles against his pillow. the fabric muffles most of it, but there’s a strain in his voice that leads you to believe he’s moaning lightly. guess after sukuna ripped his heart out, this area hasn’t been quite the same, huh?
“so? then go to sleep, yuuji. i’ll be fine-“ “-no way! i gotta take care of you”
“so why don’t you?”
“‘m going to! i was asleep just half a minute ago!”
“and besides-“
he shifts himself up into a sitting position, leaning his back against the headrest. itadori opens his arms, motioning for you to crawl on top of him. without any haste, you clamber over his built frame, ghosting just over the print of his hard dick.
“not that i mind but- we did, you know, in the morning already-“ “oh, shit, sorry- it’s totally fine if you don’t want t-“ “-just messing with you!”
itadori pulls your neck down and gifts you with the same treatment you were offering him earlier. his tongue is hot and wet against your skin and you can already feel the precipitation forming at the back of your knees. calloused yet tender hands smooth around your waist and he smooths his palms over your shoulder blades.
after itadori’s satisfied with the mark he left, you can’t help but groan a little into his mouth when his lips suddenly claim yours. he drinks you up, relying solely on your taste like he’s drowning and you’re the air he needs.
itadori takes his sweet time cherishing you, or rather it’s still his state of half slumber, but you can feel a dull ache prick your abdomen. you scratch up his shirt, motioning for him to take it off. you’re unsure what comes over you, but shit, you don’t want him- you need him.
“heyheyhey, ‘s okay. don’t worry, i got you.”
“i’ll take care of you.”
“just relax, okay? i got this.” he only coos with sweet reassurances, peppering small kisses and handling you with the utmost precision.
you whimper, balancing your palms flat against his abdomen for additional support as you sink down onto itadori’s cock. he lets out a hum of content, forehead bumping against yours as he allows you to adjust.
“you good?” he murmurs after a few moments, capturing a few strands of your hair in between his fingertips. you nod meekly and itadori hisses out a breathy exhale. he’s sure that if he goes rough as shit you might end up more broken than being able to sleep, so he screws his eyes shut and exhales to maintain his composure.
blazing hot lips scrape against your ear, and his voice comes out in a husky tone.
“tell me how you want it.”
by the lords of everything and all that is holy, itadori only chants the same phrase over and over in his mind. it’s a miracle that he’s able to think straight with all the blood rushing to his cock. he’s more than happy to take it slow, reward you with slow and long strokes while he showers you with high praises. but he can’t ignore the twitch that he experiences when he envisions that pretty lil fucked out face of yours, all messy and ruined for him.
you mutter that you have no preference, that you don’t care because anything he’ll do for you is perfect, and it only gives him a beaming smile at your words.
itadori grabs the scrunched up ball of his shirt that he was wearing before ripping the fabric into half with his bare teeth. you watch his eyebrows perk when he notices how fucking hot you just found that, evident with the way your walls fluttered around him.
“here, babe.”
you part your lips and he stuffs the fabric into your mouth, there’s a little bit of excess hanging out, but he reminds you that you look sexy as hell either way, on top of his dick like that with your hands on his chest, legs spread, face flushed and ready for him.
“don’t wanna be wakin’ anyone else up.”
yuuta
this man is about to end my whole career
yuuta wouldn’t bring it up on his own accord just because
 respect.. and he doesn’t want to pressure you or make you uncomfortable into doing things you’re not ready to.
it’s kind of a gray area for him because he doesn’t relish the idea of bringing up sensitive and/or extremely awkward topics so he really said ‘i’ll leave it up to future me’s problem’
but holy shit. let me absolutely tell you.
the second you hint at it? anything of the sorts? 0 to 100. he is FREAKY you cannot tell me he’s innocent just LOOK at the man
can make you scream with ease. all that practice he’s been doing with handling katanas? he doesn’t need his dick to make you cum. will gladly lick up your leftover juices and remark with a smile on his face how ‘it tastes good, angel’
similarly to itadori, i think he would be sweet and patient when asking for your preferences, etc, but after that you’re gonna have to find something to bite onto
“and? what’d you tell her?” yuuta remarks from over his fanned out deck of three cards. his gaze flickers to you as he awaits a response before using his index and middle finger to lay down a +4 card.
“red, by the way.”
you huff and glare at your boyfriend, picking up four cards and attempting to hold them in such a way that they don’t all fall and rattle to the floor. truth be told? you’re seriously a sore fuckin’ loser. you don’t know how he does it, but you’ve never managed to win a game against yuuta.
“i told maki-san that it’s her problem, not mine. if she’s so pressed about people taking them, why does she keep noodles stored in the fridge? really, noodles in the fridge? they’re really spicy as well! made my nose run like hell.” you scoff in distaste, throwing down a random red card on the pile.
“you totally ate them didn’t you?” yuuta giggles, beaming you a wide smile.
“also.. told her that i didn’t see them instead but- yeah.”
“aren’t you worried she’ll find out? oh, and, uno.”
“she might just beat me up to be honest, and, uno, you say? not anymore, love.” you sneer, throwing down a +4 card.
“i want green.”
“i’d protect you.” yuuta states over his cards. you feel like cracking a joke and laughing, but there’s absolutely zero implication on his facial features to show that he’s joking. that, and his serious tone, of course.
you flip your cards down onto the table and yuuta squeaks, pointing towards them.
“uh- i can see your cards-“
“it’s okay, not like i was gonna win anyway.”
at this point, yuuta’s mind races a hundred miles an hour. he’s panicking, blood pressure raised, heart thumping and throat clogged. oh, shit, did he do something wrong? did he upset you? is it ‘cause he said he’d protect you with no regards to the fact that you’re perfectly capable of fending yourself off against maki? fuck, he’s such a god damn screw-up, can’t even take care of his girlfriend correct-
“hey.”
your fingertips slide around his neck, hands interlocking at the base of his head. your thighs balance on his lap and you straddle him, legs either side of his.
he can’t help but hitch his breath, holding it in as though one wrong move and you would dematerialise.
“what’re you thinking about in that head of yours?”
whether you’re referencing his mini panic attack just now, or if you’re referring to all the multiple times he’s battled just bending you over and railing the absolute shit out of you, there’s not much room for debate when you brush your clothed sex up against the print of his dick.
yuuta snakes his slender hands around your throat, holding it in place. you can feel the arousal pool and wash over you, and you’d be more than surprised if you hadn’t soaked through your clothes.
he lets out a breathy laugh, devastating your stomach with butterflies due to how attractive he sounds. yuuta’s soft lips brush the shell of your ear and his other hand moves to rest on your waist,
“why don’t i show you?”
before you can utter a tease something along the lines of “show me what? how you’re too scared to hit me in bed?” you’re already down, flipped over and bent over the table you and yuuta were using moments prior ago for uno. the cards have splattered all over the wooden floor and you only hiss in discomfort as the cool surface scratches against your delicate skin. your boyfriend towers over you, leaning down as his torso clicks into place against your back. even through his titanium white jacket, you can feel his calm and collected heartbeat. he rests his head on your shoulder, nudging his face into you.
“don’t scream, okay? or, try not to, at least-“
his warm fingertips ghost over the curve of your ass, where he pinches the skin there before delivering a loud slap. you squeak, back arching as you jolt from the action. he proceeds by grabbing the inside of your thighs, long middle finger hoisting around your underwear and pulling it to the side. he makes note of the red lingerie you’re wearing and gives you a small chuckle, peppering a kiss to the side of your face.
“-unless, of course-“
“-you’d prefer everyone hear me fuck you stupid.”
“safe word’s blue, angel. i love you and thank you.”
truth be told, you were never sure what to expect from yuuta. hell, you’d never really seen the man’s dick before, sure you caught glimpses in the morning whenever he’d wake up but it’s really not the same. nothing in the world can compare to the first time you felt his piping hot tip brush up against your slicked cunt. and it was embarrassing, actually, the way your pussy was seething for him already.
with a firm hold on your tailbone, yuuta utilises his lower body strength to ram his dick all the way inside. there’s a garbled and choked moan that hisses from you when you feel your walls wrap and deform around the girth of yuuta’s dick. you whine even more so when you can physically feel a thick vein that decorates his shaft.
“the mirror.” yuuta commands in a low tone, redirecting you to glance at the same mirror you’d always fantasised about him fucking you in front of.
his eyes are half lidded, riddled with concentration. it reminds you of that feral and focused gaze he gets during serious battles.
“don’t look at me. look here.”
you trail the outline of yuuta’s arm veins as a result of him rolling his uniform sleeves up; following his v line that points towards his dick. you can only gawk in awe when you realise you’ve taken him to the base of his shaft.
his gaze locks with yours for a split second and he snaps his hips out until just about his tip is visible inside your cunt.
and shit, if his pretty pink cock isn’t the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, especially with that attractive curve. you’re sure the gesture is just to wind you up, but you can’t help but swoon at him showcasing his pride to you.
“so- mmhf- pretty-“ you whine, words jumbled and breath caught when he slams his dick inside without any prior warning. you can only shriek in exclamation when his tip bruises your cervix, and you’re unsure whether you lament the sensation or not.
he only gives you a cheerful hum, reminding you of his usual cheery disposition. it’s not until then that you realise how much of a fucking beast he’s acting right now.
“right? i’ll put it to good use, i promise.”
gojo
- i know we’re all thinking the same thing here lmfao
- trying to sleep? good for you, now, open your legs for satoru.
- oh you can’t sleep? atta girl, down on your knees for satoru.
- bye i can literally imagine gojo saying some dumbass shit like “think you were trying to sleep but i couldn’t help but think how good my dick would look down your throat like that. sorry, love, you’re not sleeping tonight.”
you blink your eyes in turn with the cicadas chirping aside, stifling a yawn. everything around you down to the very last detail screams at you to sleep, but you just cannot. from the pitch black night that floods the room obscurely, to gojo’s even and quiet breathing beside you. you’ve tried it all. you’ve counted an excess amount of sheep, you’ve tensed and relaxed your body more than you can remember. hell, no matter how many times you’ve flipped the pillow you always seemed to feel less exhausted each time.
you can’t watch netflix, because you’ve binged all your favourite shows. it’s not that you’d wake gojo up because, who cares? by the time you finish scrolling through the endless lists it’ll be time to get up.
you ponder over the things you can do, continuing to subconsciously blink furiously. that is until gojo makes note of your stupid actions and starts giggling like a high schooler at his first sleepover.
“what the hell are you doing?” he snorts, cackling into the pillow like it’s the best joke he’s heard for quite some time.
“shut up, satoru. i’m trying to sleep you ass.” you tut at him, berating him for ruining your divine concentration.
gojo audibly shifts onto his stomach, his right arm crosses over the back of his head as he lazily rests his palm onto his scalp. the other arm preoccupies itself by landing it smack bang onto your chest, fingers wandering up to cup your breast.
“satoru, huh? that’s daddy for ya” he remarks, still giggling in a state of half asleep.
“uh-huh. goodnight.” you dismiss him and his nonsense.
“just go take a shower. always helps me whenever i can’t sleep.”
“hm? you’re giving me actual good advice and being a normal boyfriend? i think i might be asleep already, this is the best dream ever.” you remark sarcastically, prying gojo’s glued wrist off of your breast and sitting up. you could go for a shower, actually. you’re not sure why but it’s always so therapeutic to take one at night rather than the morning.
“huuuh? how could you say that? you’re so mean, (y/n)-chaan! i offered you my love and the world and this is how you repay m-“
“-goodnight satoru. i love you.”
“don’t think professing your love for me will change my mind! i’m still upset at you right now, young lady!” gojo shouts from over his pillow, exclaiming and irritating you in the way he knows how to best.
“yeah, yeah. okay.” you mumble softly to yourself, bearing a wide grin from ear to ear nonetheless.
when you move to crank the water on in the shower, you realise that you didn’t bring along a change of clothes. you momentarily pop back into the bedroom to ransack the drawer for anything that you can find.
“are you back to apologise for being so mean to me?” gojo whines and you can see the pout evident on him even when it’s pitch black.
“no, i’m just here for clothes, satoru.”
you hear him mumble something but it’s muffled by the sheets he’s underneath so you don’t heed any attention to it and resume in taking a shower to help keep your insomnia at bay.
with a ginger step and a small ‘oopf’, you heave yourself into the large shower that only a headass like gojo would bother buying. it’s reminiscent to what a hot tub looks like on the inside, with surrounding jets practically in a full 360 degrees. the things so steep that there’s a small step up in front of the shower outside the actual structure. it must have cost quite the fortune.
you reach in for the built in shelf to grab ahold of some of your toiletries as you allow the water to fall in a gentle sprinkle, almost like rain. there’s an audible squeeze reminiscent to trying to get the last ounces of ketchup as you apply some body gel to your hands, lathering it up.
despite standing, the warmth of the water leads your muscles to feel less tense. the only noteworthy downside is that the running water is tremendously loud. how on earth is gojo sleeping through all that racket?
slender fingertips ghost over your inner thighs. you can feel his wet and sturdy chest in place against your spine.
“surprised to see me?”
“you know i can’t let my baby talk shit like that.”
really? that’s his issue at hand here?
“so which is it?”
“acting like an intolerant brat because you’re tired or ‘cause you wanna get dicked down?”
gojo loops his arm underneath your leg, bending it up. you almost topple over in the process and you lay one hand flat against the tile.
“don’t answer that. sometimes it’s so obvious that you’re such a whore for my dick.”
“huh?! what the shit are you saying?” you snap at how correct he is.
gojo yanks your face back, digging his fingers into your cheeks as he forces you to face him. it almost sends your neck into two pieces, straining to look back at him.
“oh, really princess? just the other day you were begging me to fuck you”
“remember that? couldn’t wait so you rode me in the car? you know, baby, all you gotta do is ask.”
your legs tremble and psyche wobbles when he pries your mouth open with his thumb, promptly before spitting into it.
“don’t bother with the bullshit. i’ll play the games, not you.”
he drags his hard cock against the curve of your ass, slapping it against you.
“i don’t think i feel like fuckin’ you right now.” gojo sneers, humming sardonically. his lips quickly latch onto yours when you spin around to meet his gaze. like the fucker he is, gojo moans and whines into the kiss- lips ravaging you whole and tongue capturing your essence.
“baby girl, i was gonna let you top me. you know i don’t let anyone do that.”
his long middle finger prods against your cunt, forcing itself in with ease.
“damn, you’re soaked. you really wanted to milk me dry that bad?”
you hate him. hate him so fucking bad. he flashes you that attractive smile of his, azure eyes sparkling and snow white hair disturbed with water.
gojo pulls his finger out before sucking onto it in front of you, lapping all the excess arousal off.
“i’m not playing with you tonight.”
toji
- i literally don’t even need to say anything here
- just be sure to make a hospital check up appointment or something
- um-i uh- please remember to breathe after this one? maybe touch some grass? ALSO my first time writing for toji AAA i hope he’s okay
maybe if you don’t breathe? nah, that wouldn’t work. there’s still air acting around your limbs when you move so you’d be disturbing the barriers there. let’s see
 maybe bit by bit? surely if you slowly inched his shirt up? then again, wouldn’t toji chew you out halfway through? maybe you should just give it to him straight up? just slip your hand under his shirt. come on. but he looks so peaceful, sleeping like that.. long eyelashes fluttered closed, lips relaxed and not scowling. his eyebrows are softly arched. he looks so soft, lips parted, chest rising and falling with every breath.
fuck it. just do it. cuddle him already.
you muster up all your courage in one fell swoop and you bend one leg over toji, resting it just above his groin. your right arm sprawls out over his chest and your hand rests against his toned arm. he’s already sleeping with one arm bent up with his hand supporting the back of his head, so you utilise the free real estate to nestle your head in the crook of where his shoulder and collarbone meet.
when he doesn’t move after a while, you deem your life to be safe and exhale with ease.
“you’re not asleep.” toji states in a groggy, husky tone. it’s supposed to be a question, but, coming from him it almost sounds like a challenge.
“yes?” you squeak out meekly.
“‘yes?’ you asleep or not?”
“i can’t sleep again.” you murmur against his shirt and he exhales a small sigh. the arm that you’re clinging onto moves to draw small circles on your thigh that rests on toji.
“when’d you notice?” you inquire, glancing down at his large wrists.
“like five minutes ago. nice try, kid.” toji snorts indifferently, chuckling at your behaviour.
when you don’t make an effort to respond, toji’s interest peaks and he lets out a small hum of intrigue when he follows your gaze.
he turns his head, brushing his lips up against your temples.
“see anything interesting down there?”
“as a matter of fact-“
you nestle yourself in between toji’s large and built thighs, digits curling around the waistband of his boxers. he only smirks at you through the dark, cock twitching through the fabric. you notice toji hover his hips up so that you can slide his boxers off for him and you happily oblige.
“-i do.” you chime, licking your lips.
it’s cute, though, if you thought toji was gonna let you handle him like that all by yourself.
as you kiss a trail up his thick shaft, toji yanks ahold fistfuls of your hair before grabbing your face off of his cock.
“who said you could suck my dick? that’s real cute.”
“thinking you actually have a place in my house.”
“i didn’t train you to be such a depraved slut. know your fucking place, because this isn’t it.”
“how many times do i gotta tell you? you don’t belong here. look around. do you see anything that shows a woman lives here? no? that’s because you’re nothing but a fuck doll for me.”
toji hisses out profanities at the gag you spew when he slams your tiny little mouth back down on his dick.
“lose the teeth you imbecile. unless you’re trying to tell me that you can’t suck my dick properly.”
incessant whines and garbled sentences are muffled by toji’s cock. whatever remnants you had of your vision are nothing but a blur as tears stream your cheeks, nose running and sniffles resurface in a repeating pattern over the slick sounds of slurping and gagging. your mouth stretches as far as it can go and the corners of your lips shriek in despair. you can feel the skin there stretch and pull beyond what’s considered normal.
even through all that, you manage to glance up at toji through your water logged lashes. you’ll be a good girl for him. you need to be.
“fuuuck. that’s a pretty sight.” he grumbles and a deep chuckle resonates through his chest. within a few moments, toji fumbles to reach for something.
you can only wince and screw your eyes at the suddenly blinding flash of a light in front of you. one can only assume he’s taken a photo of you in your humiliating state.
you can feel the fear settle into your veins when that telltale ping of a message being sent vibrates throughout the room. if you were to listen hard enough, you could hear a notification go off in the next room over.
your throat feels raw, jaw tense and locked open. it’s been a good twenty minutes of toji face fucking you to teach you a valid lesson. it’s all in the will of him wanting to drag this on, savouring every miniscule slurp, whimper or gasp. when his strokes start to feel sloppier than usual, you can’t help but feel relieved.
as you squirm about due to toji shooting hot ropes of his thick cum down your throat, the door softly clicks open.
“megumi. you’re just in time.”
“she’s way more obedient than your mom ever used to be.”
495 notes · View notes
elliethesuperfruitlover · 3 years ago
Text
I’m So Baked (says the pie)
A/N: So I’ve been paying more attention to Topazi (mentally) and I realize that I need more shenanigans between her and Klaus..so here we are.
Warnings: some suggestive material
Tag List:  @joz-stankovich, @misskittysmagicportal, @badsext, @super-unpredictable98, @the-freckled-luba, @magic-multicolored-miracle, @ghouls-buddy, @maerenee930, @frogs–are–bitches, @neuroticpuppy, @forenschik, @bisexualnathanyoung, @robert-sheehan, @firstpersonnarrator, @salvador-daley, @lokis-rock-n-roll-chick
“Klaus, what happened to your hand?!” Topazi asked, as her partner walked in, his hand held far away from his body, almost as if it had offended him greatly.
“I was trying to get inside of the house and the patio door shut on my hand. We need to get that fixed at some point.” he said, putting a generous amount of dish soap on his “Hello” hand before putting it under the tap.
“I’ll put it on my list to get to. Do you know when Allison and Claire are supposed to be coming over. I need to make sure I have time to get the flowers done beforehand. And I need to make sure there’s no extra snails in them, like I’ve let slide recently.” she added, getting her tools gathered on the floor of the living room.
“Uh, I think she said around regular dinnertime, 6-7ish.” Klaus replied, and Topazi let out a sigh of relief. That’s plenty of time to construct and reconstruct her design.
  It was a simple bouquet, really. Allison hadn’t asked for a specific type of flowers, but she wanted to get a specific message across. Maternal love and affection. Claire had been through quite a lot, and she wanted to be sure that her kid knew that she loved her very much. Material objects only do so much as well, so Allison planned to write a letter, and just generally try to spend more time with her kid, and be there for her more.
“That’s valid.” T remembered saying, as she picked a few cinquefoils, as well as a few carnations from her collection, looking back at her sketch.
  It reminded her in pieces of a sunflower, actually, how it looked. There wasn’t a darkness in the center, but she chose yellow cinquefoils, and yellow carnations, with regular greenery on the outside, so she’d need to change something up a little. She worked away for some time, and made multiples of the same bouquet, trying different combinations of the flowers.
  In the kitchen, Klaus was looking at a recipe book. He wanted to make Allison one of her favorite desserts, a key-lime pie. He was sure that there were limes somewhere in the house (or if the neighbors have some). There had been multiple occasions where he wished to make a specific dish and lacked a few ingredients. Topazi had mentioned, in passing, of her wishes of having a fruit orchard. That would help with the fruit issue, lest Klaus decide to become a full-time baker. It may not be a huge one, but she wanted to provide for herself. Plus, who doesn’t want to take care of plants?
“Now where is the microblade?” he asked himself as he rumbled through the cabinets, trying to make sure he didn’t let anything drop too loudly.
“I don’t even know if we have one.” Topazi replied, eyes focused on trying to properly tie a ribbon on one of her bouquets.
“Ah, here it is!” Klaus exclaimed, extracting the microblade from between the cheese grater and a plate.
   He finally went into the fridge after a few more minutes of glancing over the ingredient page, and withdrew a few limes from the bottom drawers. Soon enough, Klaus began working on the crust, and took some of his anger out (mostly at the sliding door) pounding the graham crackers to crumbs. A small part of him wanted to taste said crumbs, but then he remembered that it was for his sister, not him. (although her giving him a slice isn’t completely out of the question) He pressed the crumbs into the side of the pie plate, making sure to press from the bottom, going up. He put it in the oven, took note of the time, and got started on the filling.
“T, why do you like flowers so much?” Klaus asked, zesting a lime. He knew the obvious answer, “They’re pretty, and a lot of people like them.” However, he wanted to hear his partner talk, as the sound of the cicadas outside were beginning to annoy him.
“I like them because what’s not to like about them? In a sense. They’re pretty, and were historically used as a means to communicate, when people thought it rude and insensitive to discuss such things in public. Everything about them is made so carefully, down to how they look microscopically. Even though plants themselves aren’t sentient, they still live, and have their own systems to maintain, and how they work. If one was to extract a piece of DNA from a sunflower, specifically one that gives it its color, our perception would be completely different of it.” she stops for a moment to collect her thoughts.
“It’s also how people work, too. I like flowers because they’re easy to maintain, if you know what you’re doing, and don’t forget they exist, or run out of energy. And they’re so nice to look at. You’ve seen me stop in parks to just admire how flowers are placed in the mulch, or soil. They planters may have had the littlest idea of how I would view them, even down to what order they put them in, but they’re there. I find it so worth it to just pause for a moment, and to think, and indulge in the true meaning of something, even if it wasn’t meant to be. That’s why I like flowers. It’s completely fine to just see the surface when someone gets you flowers “Ah, they got me something pretty, and thought of me to give me this. It’s a meaningful gift.” But I want to pick apart every part of it. Because there’s so much more to so many things than what you see.” she responds, and jumps when she looks up to see Klaus leaning over the kitchen island, his face in his hands.
  His hands have small bits of pulp on them, and the “Kiss the Cook” apron that he wears has abstract juice drippage on it.
“I fuckin’ love you T.” Klaus whispers, and bends over to capture her lips in a gentle kiss, and he feels her smile into it. Her hands carefully come to wrap around his neck, making sure not to get any of the stem juice in his hair.
“Love you too.” she whispers back, pulling away “Your crust smells just a smidge burnt (pronounced buent), by the way.” she says, picking up her phone to refresh her memory of other flower requests. A small look of panic passes across his face before he pushes himself off of the counter, practically ripping the oven door off to check on his crust.
  It, fortunately enough, wasn’t too terribly damaged. It wasn’t too crisp, or burnt. He set it on the stove to rest for a moment, and he grabbed the yogurt from the fridge, and sweetened condensed milk from the pantry. He poured the juice, zest, yogurt, and sweetened condensed milk into a bowl, and whisked to combine.
“I never thought I would be so turned on by a man cooking, and the pie isn’t even for me.” T admitted, looking at the way Klaus’ arms flexed while he continued to mix the ingredients together.
“Oh, is that right. I’ll be cooking a lot more then, if your response is openly admitting your horniness to my non-conformity to gender roles.” he said casually, blowing a stray hair out of his face.
 Topazi looked up, and stared Klaus straight in the face, and put a finger up, opening her mouth, only to close it, and put her finger down.
“I’m not sharing my thoughts with a malewife like you.” she uttered, shaking her head in mock disgust.
“And this malewife puts it down every evening for you, willingly that is, and this is how I’m treated, ugh, the gumption.” he mutters, putting a hand to his chest, feigning disgust.
  Topazi and Klaus look at each other once more before breaking out in laughter, urging Minnie, who was sitting on the floor, to wake up from her nap. Klaus snorted, hand gripping the counter. Topazi had to put her head down to prevent any excess spittle from getting on her flowers. Once they caught their collective breaths, Klaus poured the filling into the crust, and put it into the oven to bake. He washed the dishes that he had, and dried the bowl, due to needing it for the topping.
“Okay, good, I just need to write these cards, then I’ll be done with this.” T said, grabbing them, and grabbed a permanent marker.
“These look really good T!” Klaus exclaimed, his eyes shining with glee.
“Thank you love.” she said, dragging a hand across her face. She stood up to stretch, and her back cracked loudly, mildly surprising her. She walked over to Klaus and wrapped her hands around his waist, her head resting on his back.
“Every time you put your arms around my waist like that, I swear I gain 10 more years of life.” he said, wiping his hands on his apron. She felt the vibrations of his speech on her face, and she took a deep breath before responding.
“I wonder what happens when I hug you then.” T said, walking away to put the flowers in their designated “T’s flowers, do not touch nor smell.” place in the fridge.
“I’m so smart, I know.” he retorted, pouring the heavy cream into a bowl, along with a few tablespoons of confectioners’ sugar. T jumped at the sound, and shook it off. 
  She had mentally took note of the time Klaus put the pie in, and took an oven mitt off of the hook, (patterned with tiny cookies on it) The top looked set enough, and she set it to rest on the counter. She turned the oven off, and watched as Klaus finished whipping the topping, holding it upside down to check if it was ready. It didn’t fall on his head, so he put plastic wrap over it, and looked outside for a short moment, looking up the tree in the front yard. 
  He took a breath, and thought for a second. Maybe a bit too long. His mind fluttered back to what it took for him to be where he was. How much it physically took out of him, his siblings, hell, even the timeline for him to be able to have a peaceful life (for the most part) and a loving partner. A tear slipped down his face, and he thought of how silent the ghost had been recently. He still had his powers, but the ghosts seemed to respect his current want for peace. And he loved that. He would float around the house if his feet were tired, and sometimes even do a side gig of being a medium if he felt inclined to. However, something about knowing that he couldn’t physically see Ben anymore, (his Ben, he thought, now with his newest collection of siblings, with a limited edition Sparrow Ben). He still even missed the cult, even with its downsides. He never got the right type of parental love, or familial love. At times, he doubted his siblings’ love for him, even though they’d made it pretty obvious that they’d be there for him, lest he need it.
  “Hey, Klaus, the- are you alright?” Topazi asks. She had been calling a few clients back from her home office, telling them that their bouquets had been completed. She got a random craving for cookies, and planned to go to the kitchen to make them, but she found Klaus in tears, hand covering his mouth. He hadn’t even noticed her there.
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I was just thinking too much.” he explained, letting her wipe the tears from his face.
“You sure?” she asked, and he nodded before taking a deep breath, and releasing it. “I was just coming in here to A. make some cookies, and B. tell you that the pie is good and cooled, and it’s time for it to be topped.” she said, rubbing his back gently.
“Okay. Thank you T.” he responded, gathering the willpower to put the whipped cream on the pie, and adding small lime slices and spare zest on top. He smiled at the completed job, and put it in the fridge to finish chilling.
“Go take a nap darling. You’ve been on your feet for a while, and you look tired. I’ll let you know when Allison is here. Or at least 5 minutes before.” she whispered, kissing Klaus’ cheek. She looked at him for a moment more, and cupped his cheek with her hand. The light scruff that covered the bottom of his chin tickled her hand, and she had the urge to scratch her palm. She however, resisted said urge, and took her hand away. Klaus smiled at her once more, and trotted up the stairs, with Minnie in tow behind him. Topazi went back to the kitchen and gathered her ingredients. She spun some vinyl as background music, and got to work on her cookies.
  A couple hours pass, and Topazi is drying the last cookie sheet she used for her cookies, putting it back in its rightful spot. She stretched again, and checked her phone, seeing that Allison had texted her a few seconds go, saying that she was on the way, which gave her about 30 minutes to get Klaus awake. She headed up the stairs, and ended their bedroom, where Klaus was sprawled across the sheets Minnie resting on his pillow. T gently shook him awake with one hand, and giving chin scratches to Minnie with the other.
“Come on, it’s time to get up Klausie.” she mutters, watching as her partner came to slowly, more of his hair having escaped from its confinements.
“Hmmm, I’ll be more up in a bit. You smell good, hon.” he whispered, rubbing his eyes.
 The sun was shining in his face, and although it may have been mildly uncomfortable to wake up to, he looked absolutely stunning in it. His hair seemed to glow, and his skin, albeit a little pale, seemed to reflect every bit of sun that hit it. His eyes though, seemed to be pools of emerald and gold. Topazi admired him from afar, and she ignored the strong urge to climb into bed with him and bask in the sunlight together.
“You’re staring love.” Klaus says, leaning on his arm in bed, petting Minnie, who was beginning to wake up as well. She meowed gently, and purred at his touch.
“Oh, hush. Like you haven’t stared at me in the sun before.”
“.....You got me there.”
“Yeah, mhm.” Topazi said, jokingly side-eyeing Klaus.
“Come here mama.” Klaus teases, pulling T’s arm towards him. She falls into Klaus’ arms, her head resting right below his. He bends down and kisses her lips, breaking away, before Topazi reciprocates the gesture, taking a small handful of Klaus’ hair in her fingers. Klaus smiles, and chuckles, letting his mouth fall to her neck. He nuzzles into it, and they sit there for several minutes, before coming to a realization.
“Oh shit, I forgot that Allison and Claire are coming over.” T said. “I’ve got to get the cookies in the jar...and I need to fix the bed too.”
“Ah, calm down. It’s fine. She’s not going to come up here and see where we engage in sinful activities, is she? No. However, I would love to join you in the cookie jarring.” Klaus mutters, smiling at her.
“Fine, you can help. But so help me god if I find even a crumb on the freshly swept floor.” Topazi said, closing the bedroom door behind her.
  T worked quickly to get the cookies together, and Klaus took a very short shower, as he knew that it would help wake him up, and he could go back to bed without having to worry about showering again. The doorbell sounded, and Topazi almost slipped trying to get to the door. She checked herself in the mirror once more before letting her niece and sister in law into the house.
“Hey Allison! And little miss Claire.” Topazi said, giving the respective people their own hugs.
“How’ve you been T?” Allison asked as she was welcomed in, shoes taken off at the door. She was also carrying a dish of some sort, covered in Aluminum Foil.
“I’ve been good. The business has been going well, and I’m thinking of making an orchard.” T replies, leading them both to the living room. “Let me get that for you.”
“That’s good. Claire’s been begging me to let her go visit the shop, but it’s always been at a bad time. Oh, thank you! I brought dinner as a bit of a treat.”
“It’s much appreciated. I like seeing you both, and having you two visit would never be a hassle.” she replies, petting JJ, the other cat, who just so happened to be waiting for attention.
“IS THAT MY SISTER AND MY FAVORITE NIECE?” Klaus yelled from the top of the stairs, quickly running down them to give his sibling a hug.
“Uncle Klaus!” Claire exclaimed, giving said uncle a very big hug around his middle, only to be picked up.
“How’ve you been, Allison, smaller Allison?” he asked, setting his niece back on the couch before taking the place next to his partner.
“We’ve been good.” Allison says. “We’ve been doing really good.” 
  The four of them sit and converse for a while, and eventually dinnertime comes around, signaled by Klaus’ stomach growling loudly. Allison had brought a very large amount of lasagna, and Topazi immediately dug in, which shocked Klaus, but he’d bring the cause up at a later time. Claire did, however, get a pre-dinner cookie (Topazi’s request because “That’s how you teach kids that good things come to people who deserve them.”)
“So, I do so happen to have a bit of a surprise for the both of you.” Klaus says, standing up and opening the fridge.
“Ooh, what is it?” Allison asks excitedly, and Claire matches her mother’s expression.
  Klaus pulls out the pie, and T moves to gently give Claire her bouquet, asking her to hold it a specific way as to not jostle the flowers, or change the position of the ribbon.
“That’s so pretty, T! Oh my gosh, I need to ask you to make more things for me, I swear I’ll pay you in whatever you want.” Allison exclaims, looking at the bouquet, leaning forward to smell some of the flowers.
“Thank you! The meanings of the flowers, and ribbon placement are on the card. Also your brother made a whole pie...by himself......we need to eat it before he does.” she teases, sticking a pointed thumb back at her partner, who already had a knife out to cut said pie.
“Klaus, it’s my favorite! Thank you so much.” Allison says, taking another bite of the pie.
“This is really good Uncle Klaus.” Claire states, looking across the island at him.
“Why danke. It was made with love. Both the pie and the bouquet, actually.” he said, kissing T on the cheek. She smiled against him, and took a piece of the pie for herself, trying to resist eating the rest of the pie it all of its entirety.
  The night came to an end, and Allison and Claire said their respective goodbyes, and drove off. T and Klaus lay in bed that night, with a book and knitting needles in hand, respectively. Klaus feels a weight against his shoulder, and Topazi had fallen asleep, small breaths escaping her lips. He put a marker in her book, and took note of note of where he stopped in his stitches. It took him some more time to get to sleep that night, probably due to his earlier nap, but he got to sleep, so peacefully. Something he’d wished for many a day, and now it seemed that he was finally getting it answered.
Masterlist
Key Lime Pie
16 notes · View notes
saijspellhart · 4 years ago
Note
15 thiefshipping please.
15. A fierce kiss that ends with a bite on the lip, soothing it with a lick. (Thiefshipping)
"Well?" Bakura gave his roommate a pointed look.
Malik tried his hardest to suppress a grimace, but only managed to press his lips together and wrinkle his nose. "What's in these cookies?"
"Cookie stuff! Obviously. Ryou showed me the recipe yesterday. He said it was so easy even I could make it."
Malik tried not to gag when he swallowed, failed, and moved the rest of the cookie under his tongue. "What's the recipe?"
"Butter, flour, sugar, eggs, vanilla," Bakura listed off, clearly getting impatient. "Normal cookie stuff. So how are they?"
"Are you sure you put sugar in them?" Malik shuddered again at the flavor still crawling over his tongue.
Bakura heaved a sigh and picked up a ceramic canister from the counter. "Sugar."
Malik squinted at the little faded label made out of masking tape. "It says salt."
The former Yami spun the container in his hand and glowered at the label, scrutinizing it like some secret coded message. "Fuck. So it does."
Malik took this opportunity to scrape his fingers over his tongue, and dig the rest of the cookie out of his mouth. "Why was I the first one to taste these anyway? Shouldn't it have been you?"
"I tasted them yesterday when Ryou made them. I thought they were good."
"Ryou didn't make them wrong!"
"So I suck at baking! Screw this!" He grabbed the plate and chucked the cookies into the garbage bin, plate included. "I try to do something nice..." the sentence trialed off in muttering that sounded more like swear words. Bakura folded his arms over his chest, practically throwing himself against the counter when he leant back against it.
Much to his distaste, Malik dug the plate out of the trash can. He gave his roommate a side-eye as he placed it into the sink.
"This is why I buy everything from the store," grumbled Bakura.
The soap suds squished between Malik's fingers as he washed his hands, watching the water splash around the clean and empty sink as he did so. It was only then that he took in the state of the kitchen... which to his surprise was oddly clean for a Bakura that just made a batch of salty cookies.
Come to think of it, there weren't even any dirty dishes in the sink from breakfast or lunch.
There was no way his lazy-ass roommate made cookies and washed all the dishes. Was there?
Suspiciously Malik's gaze darted over to Bakura himself. To his utter surprise Bakura was dusted in patches of flour. Bits on his shirt, on his arms, and even some on his face. There very well could have been flour in Bakura's hair too, but it blended in flawlessly with the natural white color caused by his albinism.
So, he really did bake cookies. He turned his attention back to the sink and the surrounding countertops. It wasn't perfect by any means, a little cluttery, and there were some crumbs under the toaster. But the sink was empty aside from the cookie plate, and the counters had been wiped down. He even cleaned the kitchen.
"Thank you," Malik said lowly as he finished rinsing off his hands.
"What?" Bakura spoke the word sharply with a little too much emphasis on the H.
"For cleaning the kitchen," Malik clarified, turning away from the sink and using the dish towel to dry off. "It was... thoughtful."
"Whatever," Bakura huffed and turned his face away.
Malik caught the tint of pink on his pale cheeks regardless. He strode across the kitchen and stopped in front of his roommate leaning in a bit as he grinned. "Teach me."
"Teach you what?" he snarled. "To make salty mistakes?"
"The cookies, Bakura, not your half-ass blowjobs. You said Ryou taught you the recipe, and I want to try them." Malik snagged an apron from a drawer nearby, and threw it over his head. It was a weird, white and pink, frilly thing that Bakura always sneered at but Malik liked it.
"Like hell I'm going through that again. I'll just fuck them up."
"Guess I'll have to make cookies by myself," Malik sniffed, wandering over to the cabinets to take out a mixing bowl. The first thing he grabbed was a pan for a bundt cake. After a blink he shrugged and set it on the counter, then he fished out a wire whisk. "I don't know any of the amounts."
When he collected eight eggs from the fridge, Bakura finally cringed. He heaved a long dramatic sigh before coming up behind Malik and tossing the bundt pan back into the cabinet. He tore down the mixing bowl he'd used earlier and placed it on the counter, then collected a rubber spatula from the utensil drawer.
"Was that so hard?" teased Malik.
"Yes." Bakura pulled out the large plastic container they kept flour in and began measuring it.
Malik watched him carefully, helpfully holding the glass mixing bowl in place while his roommate dumped the white powder in. "I honestly don't know how there is any flour left, you're wearing most of it."
The next cup of flour went right down the front of Malik's shirt.
"Son of a bitch, Bakura! What was that for?!"
The former Yami nonchalantly resumed the task at hand, smirking down at the mixing bowl. "I missed.”
Any attempt to brush the flour away only resulted in smearing more of the white powder over his brown skin, so Malik gave up. He watched Bakura put one more cup into the mixing bowl before asking, "is that the last one?"
"Yes. We need to mix the butter and sugar together in a separate-"
A sudden cascade of white plummeted down over Bakura's head before he could finish his sentence. It exploded into the air in thick clouds, dousing him in powder from hair to socked foot.
The Egyptian beside him stepped away clutching the now empty plastic flour container. A cheeky grin stretching from ear to ear.
For a long moment Bakura simply stood there, dusted like a pale ghost, chocolate brown eyes staring at the counter but focusing on nothing in particular. Malik's nasally chortling the only sound punctuating the moment.
Then the former Yami took a handful of the flour from the mixing bowl and hurled it into his roommate's stupidly laughing face.
Malik sputtered and coughed when a second handful came down on his head, Bakura smacking the flour into his hair.
"S-stop that!" he screeched, still trying to spit out mouthfuls of powder.
"Make me!"
Another fistful of flour almost made it into Malik's hair, but Bakura's socked foot slipped on the flour covered floor, and his flour-covered self ended up careening into Malik instead.
This sent the two men tumbling to the ground where they proceeded to roll around the floor, scooping up fistfuls of excess flour and trying to smear it onto the other. Hair, face, nose, eyes, down the shirts, and into the pants. Malik's foot kicked a cabinet, and Bakura's elbow smacked the linoleum, but neither of them let up.
That is until until Malik's hand came way to close to Bakura's mouth, and his teeth snapped down like a trap.
"You bit me!" Malik recoiled a white dusted arm, that now sported a neat wet teeth pattern amidst the powder on his palm.
Bakura bared his teeth and snapped them again, making a sharp clicking sound.
It was a challenge as much as it was a warning.
And Malik was just the sort of moron who would bait a shark and then go swimming with it. Or bite it back.
He pinned the white-haired male to the floor, difficult because Bakura fought him wildly, but not as difficult as it could be because Bakura was thinner, shorter, and lankier than him. And to anyone's surprise who saw Malik's body he was actually pretty toned. He definitely had more muscles than his roommate, and it came to his advantage in this moment.
He swooped in and clamped his own teeth on the flesh of Bakura's shoulder.
The man beneath him yelled—a strange yowling noise mixed with unintelligible protest—and flailed violently. The movement, coupled with the coating of flour, managed to dislodge Malik, but he swiftly dove in again and bit the next closest thing to his mouth.
That happened to be Bakura's cheek and jaw.
Bakura's socked feet kicked against the powdered linoleum, struggling to find purchase and leverage. He only managed to slip and rub awkwardly against the male above him. A strange noise choked out of Malik's throat that bordered on whimper, and his teeth slipped a bit. Bakura managed to get one hand loose, snagging a fist full of Malik's blonde hair, he ripped the other man off the side of his face. In the same motion he whipped his own head, and bit him in retaliation.
Right on Malik's upper lip.
Malik yelped. Bakura's teeth scraped. And their eyes connected briefly before they suddenly both jerked away.
"Y-you kissed me."
Bakura flinched like someone had taken a swing at him. "No I didn't."
Malik cocked his head and fixed him with a look of disbelief. "What would you call that then?"
"I bit you."
"On the lips!"
"On the mouth!" Bakura refuted.
If it were at all possible Malik's look became even more disbelieving. "It's the same thing." As if to prove his point, the man beneath him wasn't making eye contact.
"It's not."
"It is!"
Not one to back out of an argument, Malik dipped down to substantiate his claim. He pressed his lips flush against Bakura's, capturing the thief's startled mouth in a kiss.
He didn't react at first, unless Malik counted his whole body tensing up like a corpse in rigor mortis. The kiss wasn't long. His lips were soft against his, pliant and and tasting of raw flour. But this wasn't quite the point Malik was trying to prove. He nipped Bakura's bottom lip as he broke away, a lingering pinch of that soft flesh between teeth before he sat back and grinned in triumph.
Thirty seconds passed before the thief sucked in a ragged shuddering breath. "What the hell was that?"
Malik grinned, all white teeth and conceited superiority. "According to you it was a bite, you silly goose." He tapped the end of Bakura's sickly-pale nose with a powder-coated bronze finger.
Bakura's nose scrunched adorably. "Don't call me that."
"You s-ss—stupid bitch," Malik tried again.
Dark chocolate colored eyes narrowed under furrowed brows. He pointedly chose to ignore that and focus on something more important. "That was not a bite." Bakura broke from Malik's half-assed grip. "This is."
Before Malik could even open his mouth to protest, Bakura surged up, took two fistfuls of blonde hair and dragged the former tomb keeper into a fierce kiss that was just as painful as it was intense. They fell back into the pile of flour, a cloud of powder thrown into the air as lips and sharp canines smashed together, bruising and burning.
Nothing about the kiss was gentle or sweet, it was messy and vicious. Their teeth clacked, noses bumped, and Bakura seemed hell bent on shoving his tongue places that made static skitter down Malik's spine.
Despite it all, Malik kissed him back, matching the ferocity with just as much enthusiasm. He was still straddling the thief, bent forward with most of his weight settled on his elbows. Bakura's wild mane of white hair was spread out like a lion's mane around his head, and Malik couldn't resist curling his fingers in the unkempt tresses.
But all too soon the kiss ended, concluded when Bakura's teeth bit down on Malik's lip hard enough to draw blood. Malik hissed, and jerked away from the swipe of Bakura's tongue before it could draw over the wound.
"Shit, what was that for?!" He sat back, wiping a hand over his bloodied lip. He'd barely settled on Bakura's lap for a second when he yelped like a wounded dog and shot off of him and into the kitchen cabinets.
"That's how you bite someone," the thief sneered haughtily. He attempted to hop to his feet in a swift movement, but his socks slipped, and he went crashing down into the flour covered linoleum again, sending a cloud into the air around him.
Malik snorted, coughed, and would have laughed but his eyes were glued on the obvious tent in his roommate's pants.
His attempt at an exit failed, Bakura slapped a hand over his crotch and snarled, "Fuck you, don't look at me."
"I can't believe you kissed me," Malik said as he used the counter to pull himself up onto shaky legs. He cast another look at the flushed man on the floor then added, "and liked it."
"Don't flatter yourself," snapped Bakura. "It's not like it was pleasant. You tasted like salt!"
"Only because I ate your shitty cookie!"
"Because of you we can't make any cookies at all!" Bakura shot back just as defensively. He threw a handful of the ruined flour for emphasis.
"Why the hell were you making cookies to begin with!?" Malik refused to turn away from the counter and opting to yell over his shoulder.
The entire room fell silent.
What seemed like an uncomfortable eternity passed and he chanced looking back at the thief.
Bakura had his face turned away, cheeks scarlet despite the dusting of white, and jaw set like a vice.
"Bakura?"
The former Yami surged to his feet once more. This time succeeding. "I was making them for you," he growled so lowly before storming from the room.
~0000~
How was that, handsome? Hope ya like it. I used a quote from one of our conversations in here. ;3
Thanks for sending me the ask. You’re the best and I love you. 😘
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peppermint2d · 4 years ago
Text
F#$%ing uh Calm After the Storm cuz the Storm Thing
guys this is 10k words already ripppp
chapter 1, chapter 2
Chapter 3
The emergency lantern was still on, dimly illuminating the room. That's when you spotted the alcohol from last night or perhaps lack thereof. The bottle was completely empty. Luckily it was not that large or both of you would have died from alcohol poisoning. (Drink responsibly!) The terrible hangover symptoms make a lot more sense now, normally you barely suffer from a night out.
You snuggle into the bed as much as your constraints would allow, the warmth and comfort easing your headache. As you move, you feel something crumble on your neck. You use your burnt arm to lightly touch what it was, only to find it to be dried snot. Ew. You were going to need a shower later. 2D lightly snores his head by your shoulder like how it was last night, not that you remembered. A trail of dried snot fell from his nose, and the thought that he sobbed on you tore you up. At least he looked at peace while he slept. With the soft light from the lamp, his eyebags were barely visible. His worry lines disappeared completely. His big, lost eyes were closed. He looked innocent and untroubled, how you imagined him to be were it not for Murdoc. You appreciated the rest of his face too. His button nose twitched while he slept. The clean line of his jaw. His thick eyebrows, surprisingly, do not make him look angry but adorable. It was about time that you admitted, to yourself at least, that you found all of him adorable, not just his eyebrows. His smile, his clumsy movements, his accent, his habit of being so attentive, it was all adorable. You liked adorable. You liked drawing adorable, you liked watching movies with adorable, you liked holding hands with adorable, you liked getting drunk with adorable. Hell, you even liked having hangovers with adorable, so long as you got to wake up captured in adorable's embrace.
Adorable, adorable, adorable.
His whimpers and flinching snapped you out of your trance. He frowned, "No...no..." he whispered, sounding in pain. "Lemme out! I'm in 'ere!" He started to shout and thrash around, messing up the covers, and even hitting you a couple times (only slightly less adorable than normal). None of which helped your hangover.
"2D, wake up. You're having a nightmare." You gently pushed him. That did nothing to change his behaviour. "D!" you said more forcefully. He calms down and then opens his eyes.
He sits up and rubs his eyes. "What's, What's goin on?"
"You were having a nightmare. How are you doing?" It was awkward. You didn't know if he was aware of how you two were sleeping before his nightmare. Would touching him be inappropriate right now? You refrained from doing so.
"From one nightmare to anofer, this 'angover will be the deaf of me." he grumbled.
"At least only one is real." You stand and go over to where he took out the ibuprofen yesterday. You open the drawer and find it filled to the bring with drugs. Thankfully, most of the bottles were empty, but 2D had enough pills here to turn quite a profit. Most had unpronounceable names and were completely foreign to you. Why does he have so many painkillers?
"Bof were real for me. I was relivin me coma." He said nonchalantly. He saw you shuffling through his pills. "Jus bring the lot of 'em ofer, I take make me mornin mix."
You grabbed as many as you could and brought them over. You wanted to ask about his experience, but if it bad enough to give him nightmares, then perhaps it's best left alone. "I guess it was a good thing I woke you up then?"
"It's always good to wake up to yew." He dumped around six pills into his hand and dry swallowed them like a professional. You were concerned about his drug habits and confused by his forwardness.
"Yeah, thanks for letting me crash here."
2D's grin slightly fell as he looked at you. He reached out and touched your neck with his finger, brushing away some of the dried goop on there. "Sorry for cryin on yew last night."
You lightly chuckled and you could still feel his ghosting over your skin. "I thought that might have been you."
"Yew don remember what 'appened?" He pulled his hand away.
"Should I?" Did something important happen last night? You worried that you were forgetting a pivotal moment.
"No, it's fine. I'll take yew to the showers to wash up." He got up and stretched, the shirt rising to expose his stomach, causing you to flush and turn away. You hoped you would remember if you made any advancements in that department. He leaves his outfit from last night on the floor, adding to the piles of clothes already there, as he walks to his closet. "Do yew need somefin to wear after your shower?"
You flush even deeper. You had forgotten about that. "Yes, please. Sorry."
"Don apologize! I 'ave enough for the bof of us." He pulled out a white tee and some loose black shorts. "These are the cleanest clothes I 'ave. I'll throw yours in the wash."
You grab them from him. "Thanks, D."
He leads you to the showers. "I'll be waitin in the kitchen for yew. See if I can grab us some breakfast."
You thank him and step inside. You set the clothes down and lock the door, stripping down now that Murdoc won't accidentally enter. 2D insisted that Murdoc doesn't even shower in the first place, but you still felt apprehensive. You nearly screamed when you turned on the water and it was ice cold. You fiddle with the knobs a bit. Burning hot, freezing cold. You start to understand Murdoc's position better. You finally managed to get it slightly not cold and reached for the soaps, finding 2D's cedarwood and vanilla scent.
It was so intimate. You felt like you were violating his privacy like you were borrowing a piece of his identity, his scent, at least until it wears off. You were secretly thrilled by it, smelling like him. Would he care? Would he notice? Would others notice? And, as Russel had before, suggest something that you desperately wanted? The smell washed over you like it did the first night you were with him. Only two days ago, you wanted nothing more than the interview to be over, to be finished. But now, you had made a great friend, and, you selfishly hope, something more.
After you finished rubbing your neck raw, you step out and put on the clothes 2D gave you. You took off the bandage he wrapped, and the edges of the burn had started to scar. He forgot a towel, so you were soaking wet. You left a trail of droplets as you navigated the halls you have memorized by now.
You were shivering by the time you reached the kitchen, your soaked through clothes doing little to help with the heat. 2D saw you enter and turned slightly red at the sight of you in his clothes. He wouldn't tell you, but it was the first time since Paula that someone else was wearing his clothes. He then noticed that you were shivering. "Yew cold again? Russ managed to get the stove on wifout anyone burnin so I'll bring you a cuppa."
"When you and 2D disappeared halfway through yesterday, Noodle got worried and thought y'all were kidnapped. She'll be glad to see that I was right about what really happened to you." Russel said, sitting on the couch, smirking again.
You blush furiously, getting his implication, and join him on the couch. "Russel! We didn't do anything!" You say in hushed tones, hoping 2D in the other room doesn't pick up on anything.
"Who said I said about you to doing anything?" He raised his eyebrow and grinned. Checkmate. You groaned and shield your blushing face from Russel, causing him to chuckle. "You know, I haven't seen 2D this open since-" He stopped himself.
"Paula?"
He nodded. "I'm surprised he told you about that. Look, you two are very close, hell you're wearing one of his favourite shirts and you smell like him. You seem to bring out a new version of 2D, he isn't even that worried about Murdoc anymore. I like this 2D. But, I gotta warn ya, other people may not. A broken person is easier to control than a happy one." Russel looked at you knowingly. "That being said, if you make him broken again. I will break you. Understood?"
You nod vigorously. "Crystal clear!"
"What are yew talkin about?" 2D comes over with a tray of food and two steaming mugs.
"Weather!" You blurt out as Russel says "Politics!"
2D looked confused as he set the food down. "Right. I brought us some oatmeal and I 'ope yew like peppermint tea."
"What? Come on, why does she get some, but when I want to use just one teabag, you smack it outta my hands!" Russel complained, throwing his hands into the air.
"It was the last one in the box!"
"You and I both know that you keep three boxes in Kong" he grumbled.
"Some pretty special tea then?" You ask.
"I drink it whenefer I need a pick-me-up!"
"Explains why you drink it so much," Russel said.
"To fink I was gonna give yew a cup too!" 2D feigns hurt as Russel vehemently apologizes. 2D eventually concedes and leaves to make a cup.
"See," Russel turns back to you, "two weeks ago he slapped me. Now, I get the tea. Not much has changed here other than you."
You blush. "I really didn't think I was doing anything."
"You help remind him of the outside world. That is doesn't always have to be how it is in Kong. This place can really suck the life out of you. You should stay in contact, even after you leave."
"Are you doing okay, Russel?"
He avoided your gaze. "Not really. But it helps to have a new face here. Somethin to shake things up a little."
You saw 2D approaching again. "Well, then I hope his tea is as good as he promises."
"What are yew talkin about dis time?" 2D said again, as if on repeat.
"Politics." you say as Russel goes "Weather." You look at each other and start laughing.
"We really need to get that down." You insist. 2D sets down Russel's matching mug and sits by you. "Always loved tea. It reminds me of Austen's writing."
"Friendship is certainly the finest balm for the pangs of disappointed love." 2D recites in a posh accent. You all chuckle at his poor imitation of it.
"I didn't know you could read!" Russel jests.
The conversation then shifts towards literature and you learned how well-read your companions are. It goes unspoken that 2D remembered the quote because of Paula's disappointed love.
The impromptu book club breaks up when Noodle and then Murdoc enter the kitchen. Noodle grabs a box of cereal and starts eating from it. "Ohayo!"
"Good morning!" You call back. Russel and 2D both look surprised. "You're telling me that you've been living with someone who exclusively speaks Japanese and you haven't tried to learn any?"
They both grumble. "We... make do." Russel finally manages.
"Hello, pet." Murdoc gently whispers, suddenly appearing by your ear, causing you to yelp. His presence scared off 2D who went to the kitchen to refill the tea. He breathes in. "You smell like the Face Ache." He growled. "I know what you're trying to do. You can't take my singer away from me."
He then stepped away from you and walked to the windows, saying loudly: "Would you look at that, the storm's slowing down."
You got his hint. "Right. Then I best pack my things."
2D looked crestfallen. "What? Yew's leavin already?"
"Yeah, sorry D, but I think I may have overstayed my welcome."
"I'll 'elp yew pack up then." He sighed and led you to where your clothes were.
It was a rather anticlimactic packing up. You kept trying to drop hints ("Your bed was so comfy, I'd love to sleep over again." "Your hair was so soft last night, I'm sure I dreamt it up") which he kept avoiding ("Yeah, it's a nice bed, innit." "Nah, it's normally pretty soft."), so you decided to stop altogether.
When you reached the front door, the rest of the band was waiting. Noodle acted first, giving you a hug "Sayonara!" You wished her farewell in return.
Russel was next and gave you a bear hug. "Don't forget our agreement." He whispered into your ear. "Wouldn't dream of it." You whisper back.
You hold out your hand for Murdoc to shake, but he just scoffs, so you move on to 2D.
"I'm going to miss you."
"I'll miss yew more, love!" He gave you a tight squeeze. You two were slow to pull away, but when you did, you caught sight of tears in his eyes that matched your own. He hands you something. "'ere's me number so yew can call."
"This won't be the last you hear from me, D." And with that, you got back into your rusty company car and left Kong Studios, but couldn't leave behind the thought of a blue-haired singer.
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echo-three-one · 4 years ago
Text
Whatever It Takes
Sequel to A Forgotted Memory
Somewhere out there
Beneath the pale moonlight
Someone's thinking of me
And loving me tonight

Chapter 14 to another story made by Ray (echo-three-one) Comments and Reviews appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❀
Previous Chapter : Alex and Augustus
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Meet Me Halfway
John "Soap" MacTavish
Task Force 141
Location Unknown
18 hours ago
He thought he was dead. He thought they were going to kill him. He wished they would, just to end the suffering. But he also wished they wouldn't. He had greater plans, he still wanted to enjoy his life. And it looked like Nero granted half his wish, while depriving him of the other half. He's going to live the rest of his years in hell.
He couldn't stop thinking about that song, he lay flat on the ground, feeling weak, powerless and defeated.
If I lay here
 Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
He couldn't feel a thing but he knew he was being transported somewhere. Red flashes filled his eyes as he slowly slipped away from the conscious world.
~
2 Seconds.
A single drop of water plopped on the cold floor where he laid every 2 seconds. It was getting annoying, but he thanked it for actually waking him up.
Soap struggled to get up and forced himself to do so, grunting in pain as the muscles and bones of his body reacted to his sudden movements. Enduring all the pain, he gasped and got up, moving to the direction of the only ray of light from a crack in the ceiling.
He limped but he had hope, exhaling with excitement as the light got closer every step he took. Then clang! He hit his head on an iron bar. He's in a prison cell, deep underground.
"Shite." he cursed, dropping his knees on the ground, his energy already ran out and he felt thirsty.
"That's freshwater dripping down there." An unknown voice emerged from the darkness, Soap wanted to believe he's hallucinating, but an old figure emerged from the shadows. His hair mostly greyed out and it was long enough that Soap believed he'd been here for far too long.
"The name's Jack. And I suggest you rehydrate. I've been here long enough that you could trust that it's safe." he suggested. His tone was strict but helpful and Soap knew he's trustworthy. They're both prisoners and as the saying goes: "The enemy of my enemy is my friend"
"So
 uh Jake. What brings you to this dark and gloomy place?" Soap asked, his voice was barely audible but he was heading straight to the dripping freshwater.
"Turns out our friend Nero doesn't want me dead yet. He couldn't pry any information from me. I'm CIA, literally trained half my life to keep information away. He should've just killed me when he got the chance." He replied.
"So, that means he's going to get something out of you too
" he added, Soap looked worried, he didn't undergo some torture training and hes afraid of what Nero wants from him.
"Look kid, I know you're worried. That's why we won't let that happen. Okay? I have a plan." Jake patted Soap's shoulder, it still hurts from all the stomping and the tossing around but he knew he didn't mean it.
"So
 CIA. Guess you crossed paths with Alex." Soap asked, his low accent echoed across the dark cage.
"Yeah. Alex. He was like my son, trained him and assisted him all throughout his CIA Career."
"He kinda disobeyed orders by joining the good side which looked bad in the eyes of the higher ups." Soap reported.
"Hm
 It's very unusual of him to not follow orders, unless he believes it's for a better cause." Jack supplied to which Soap nodded, agreeing Jack's assumption.
"It was a good cause. Sacrificed himself for the greater good. Miraculously made it out, but lost his leg in the process." Soap continued, updating the old man about his protege, he's actually glad he did as he could feel the man's mood rising from grumpy prisoner to someone a little less grumpy.
"He had good morals, that kid. He could go far with that attitude
 I just hoped that falling in love would not be his downfall
 just like what happened to me
" he muttered. Soap didn't make out the last sentence so he assumed it was his own thoughts leaking out of his head. He didn't bother asking again.
The iron doors opened and a new patch of light opened. Jack looked at Soap with determination and nodded.
"Looks like it's showtime, sharkbait." Soap nodded noting the Finding Nemo reference at these trying times.
Jack was right. They had a practice of how to handle prisoners for interrogation. A few stomps, handcuffs, sack on the head and push you if you don't cooperate. Soap had to go through the whole thing, and as far as he knows, Jack must have gotten the key.
He limped his way to the interrogation room, buying enough time for Jack to blindly find the keyhole from the cell. He tried fighting back but the taser sticks were already giving him a bad time.
Just as Jack described, the interrogation room consisted of a dentist chair and a television, his captors were beside him preparing orders from Nero on the screen.
Soap squirmed his way out of the chair, trying to be convincing that he had no idea what's going on.
"Stop squirming! Tell us where the girl is
 or I'll take a wild guess and destroy your base instead." Nero yelled. His voice was low, like it ran through a voice changer.
"Sod off
" Soap spat and squirmed again, receiving a shock from the taser. He groaned as tendrils of electricity ran through his body shaking him almost unconscious.
"Lower the voltage or he won't respond! Dumbasses! We need something from him!" Nero yelled at his henchmen.
"So
 MacTavish
22nd Parachute Regiment, S.A.S., Now Task Force 141
 Skilled in combat, Sniper and Demolitions
 You know a proper brainwash would help me get the code from you right?" he mused.
"FOUR!" Soap roared from the top of his lungs, panting after he yelled.
"Four? What the fuck are you talking about?" Nero asked, looking confused. Addition to that, the ground shook and made everyone else in the room wonder.
"What's going on?" Nero asked.
"What? we're under attack? By who? How?" Soap's ears could hear the distress from their leader and from the looks of it, 141 already found him making it easier for him and Jack to get out of this hell hole.
"Augustus is gone? They're going to pay! Okay boys kill this man now. We have to send them a message!" Nero yelled angrily and the tv turned to static.
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Meet me Halfway
Francine "France" Winters
Task Force 141
Task Force 141 Base - Briefing Room
"We're being pressured to capture Nero. With our base compromised, the Board would now decide for our force's future. Simon Riley is now researching Augustus' burner phone, if we're lucky enough, it could lead us to our next clue." Shepherd calmly informed the force about the status. He looked in distress but he had to keep pushing forward, to end this warfare.
"Some of Nero's forces are already in New York. It turns out he could command the brainwashed civilians to deploy EMP blasts but recon noticed that he could only command a few at a time. This means without the IP address, he is still powerless and trying hard." Shepherd added.
"I want you all to always be ready for an all out attack on Nero. Let's prove to the board that we're the best one for the job." He muttered and dismissed everyone. France decided to stay in the briefing room and let the quiet consume her thoughts.
"You okay?" A reassuring hand held her shoulder. She knew it was Gary and tears started to fall from her eyes.
"I
 I can't stop worrying about him, Roach." She croaked and gave Roach a very pained stare. She actually missed John's presence even after being together for a short while, she felt that they shared a lot of common things together, the strive to become better, the response to danger even off duty and the determination to achieve a goal. Those were her traits that he also had, these same traits that made him like her despite his cocky first impression.
"Let's help out Ghost track that son of a bitch Nero down. And maybe it'll lead us to him." Roach assured them as they both stood up and went to Research.
"How
 how can you still be so sure that he's okay?" she sobbed.
"The dogtags." Ghost interjected while typing furiously on the computer.
"If Soap was dead, he should've shown us his tag. That would cripple some of our Force's focus and would lead to his success in invading and capturing Samantha." Ghost continued, he made sense and France almost smiled with the two's support. Instead, she just breathed out and helped Ghost.
"So, have you traced each source?" France asked Ghost as she also started furiously typing codes and strings of data input.
"Yes, they're really sneaky with the encryption, but I keep on getting pings at one location before it spreads in different places." he explained.
"The nearest signal tower. Every packet almost goes through there. You see that?" France pointed at the screen.
"Yeah I do. Let's start tracing that source." Ghost muttered and the map already pinged the tower's location.
"Bingo." they both whispered and cheered, hugging each other as a sign of success. France felt Ghost's tight hug and felt something off about the guy, then he actually removes half of his mask and pouts his cheek close to hers.
"I
. uh
 I'm sorry" Ghost shyly said as France pushed him away and felt awkward at the situation. Gary just stood there in shock as Price entered the room.
"What's the news?" he asked, looking at the three.
"We found him, Sir." Ghost cleared his throat and put back his mask.
"Well, bloody hell. Let's go then!" he said as they all ran towards the exit and prepared themselves. France didn't have the time to think about the events earlier as she was still worried about Soap's safety. She hopes that whatever lies in that place would give her an answer.
~
"FIRE!" Captain Price yelled as snipers quickly shot the guards surrounding the icy fortress. The gulag housed people that the world didn't want but couldn't kill, and she hoped that John MacTavish was on that list.
Danger close explosions crippled both attacking and defending forces as Price roared at Shepherd to be careful. France gulped as she saw a very open field that they're dropping in on and knew for a fact that she's very open and weak at these positions.
Her mind raced, looking at every angle. Tangos were everywhere carrying different kinds of weapons. With minimal angles to hide on, the force, led by Roach aggressively advanced to the Gulag, dodging heavy fire, grenades and RPG Rockets. As soon as they found the tunnel leading deep into the Gulag, France already felt comfortable. This was her playing zone and no one's going to stop her from getting into Nero.
The way in was almost clear, no enemies were against them but instead they ran further into the Gulag. Something was off.
Gunfire was heard deep into the Gulag and as soon as the team reached the control room, Ghost already did his magic. Opening gates, looking at the cameras and defending their six. The masked man helped them further advance into the Gulag.
"Nero's not here
" Ghost said.
"How so?" Price angrily muttered.
"He never set foot in this place. He only uses a television to communicate."
"Bloody hell. Now what?"
" I see two heat signatures behind that wall."
Roach quickly planted a c4 breach and as soon as it exploded Francine pounced at the closest person, raising her fist and looking at its eyes to see the punch go through.
Blue eyes. Those shades of blue. France stopped his fist as tears started to well from her eyes, dropping some on his bare chest.
"John
" she whimpered and smiled.
"Fra.." she didn't let him finish, she kissed him. She didn't care what everyone else thought. The gunfire and explosions suddenly felt nothing to her. She didn't care how John's lips tasted, all she cared about was that he's alive and she's on his arms.
Extraction quickly followed as Shepherd's forces already did a lot of damage on the old fortress. They barely got out just in time for the building's inevitable collapse but they're safe.
Next Chapter : Secret Alliances
Notification Squad my beloved
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