#then we have makarov

[pluvillion]

and if everyone kills each other on MWIII, then what?

[giotanner]

Lt. Simon “Ghost” Riley has had his fair share of missions gone horribly wrong. But what he knows from experience is how not to beat himself up, whether it's a bottle of Bourbon or a Bon Jovi song. John “Soap” MacTavish is taking notes (and knows who to count on) because whether it's his last day walking the earth he knows that Task Force 141 is all he would have wanted before he closed his eyes, No need to be overly sentimental

[SUPPORT the video on my tiktok please]

Ko-fi

[yeyinde]

mw3 was completely rushed (i mean the cast ate as usual they never miss) but releasing it a year after mw2 was a terrible decision they should have given it more time

You know, I feel this exact way about so many franchises lately it's honestly unreal. I'd rather wait a while for something knowing that it's going to be great than to instantly have something mediocre in my hands as quickly as they can cobble it together.

I will say, though. Price's ass is still something I'd love to sink my teeth into. That was a genuine highlight. And that's really it.

[eenochian]

the way this fandom treats characters is astounding. like y’all do realize that every single character is shitty, right? literally every last one. your blorbo is not an exception. no, “but my fave—” no exceptions. literally the only character that i can’t think of any issues with off the top of my head is farah.

[s0fter-sin]

AND I DON’T KNOW WHAT’S GOT ITS TEETH IN ME BUT I’M ABOUT TO BITE BACK IN ANGER

[pencilofawesomeness]

#this arc just straight up doesn't happen in my au lmao oh I was about to ask if that arc of the battle of fairy tail would happen. Since in your AU Laxus actually got proper guidance and his father was out of question early enough. Now I'm more curious about how it's going to be

Haha yep! Laxus isn't having unchecked dragon hormonal rage on top of daddy issues on top of power fantasies born of listlessness and expectations soooooo no Battle of Fairy Tail arc lol. He and the Thunder Legion befriended each other earlier on too so they got a more normal experience and not the toxic tryhard one. Yay! Positive butterfly effects!

In htryds it's just gonna be a oneshot (as of now at least) of a normal Fantasia celebration. Now, just because Laxus isn't a problem child doesn't mean he wants to participate in the social activities. Good thing he's not the only anti-social mfer in Fairy Tail, though, as few as there are. And therein lies the synopsis of what I plan to be a very comedic take on the parade ;)

[cheesydelphox]

i'm thinking this evening about how makarov sent a fucking kid off to spy for the government. look how young he looks here. idk

[muutosarchive]

𝚂𝙼𝚄𝚃𝚃𝚈 𝙶𝙸𝙵 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚂 15 (MF) ( makarov / val )

HE'S NOT ABOVE exploiting the loyalty of others based on mutual need. i'll scratch your back, you scratch mine. that kind of thing. he's not loyal to any blood, but hatred of the west has long since existed since his days in the spetsnaz. yet advancement requires sacrifice, &. he's sure that he can sacrifice nights in bed with the narcos to further his goals. litterally, &. figuratively, apparently. not married to his own promises made to secure this deal in the first place. using this arrangement to bide his time.

such that he does his own way. a dominant approach, as one must not let their guard down in the midst of garnering control. a covert operation, done subliminally.

there's a slight smile on sweat &. stubble peppered face, whilst a hand is wrapped around her forehead in order to direct it where he desired. slotted into the mexican-american turned higher-up in el sin nombre's ranks. his hip elevated from the plush bed's surface, as they drive into her with considerable force. such displaying immense strength &. endurance.

a move that he could get behind, surely. betraying the united states for a ladder to power. though the narcos are a less than loyal people . . . a monarchy so close to falling, should the right person snuff the top dog. how valeria found her way to power, no? such things certainly amongst those he's keeping a close eye on. accounting for everything. always three steps ahead, if he can help it.

she's got a good body for it, anyway. beautiful, big tits swaying with each powerful thrust. his mouth is close to her ear as he allows breath to ghost huskily over the shell of her ear. "don't let this go to your head, valentina." smirk is apparent in his breathy speech. "i don't pick favorites."

🍒 @avemaria 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐃  ↪ 𝚂𝙼𝚄𝚃𝚃𝚈 𝙶𝙸𝙵 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚂 (gif)

[the-californicationist]

They Help You Practice

Task Force 141 asks you to be the bait for a secret assignment. So, they make you audition for the role. You end up getting gangbanged by the whole team and loving it!

TW: gangbang, vaginal sex, anal sex, oral sex, gay sex, degradation, explicitly consensual, spit? please check AO3 link at bottom for full tag list

You let yourself into his office, shutting the door behind you, and stood before him at a sharp parade rest, waiting to be informed about your fate. 

“Sergeant, thank you for coming. There is no need for formalities. This is just a chat.”

You moved to a more relaxed rest and nodded. 

Price continued,

“This is going to be quite the ask. Would you be willing to perform duties which are…outside of your current scope?”

“Yes, sir,” you responded just as you should have, as you were trained to, but Price was hoping you would understand exactly what you would be getting yourself into. 

“I need you to go undercover to a Konni restaurant cover in Minsk…as bait. Am I making myself clear?”

A pause. But, to your credit, you didn’t flinch. You did raise an eyebrow and ask a clarifying query,

“What kind of bait, sir?”

“Our next target, Dimitri Sokolov, will be at the Black Pearl bar in Minsk tomorrow, and we won’t get a better chance to lure him away from his bodyguards. He almost never makes public appearances, so he must be making an exception. Sokolov has,” he paused for a moment, trying to find the words, making general, suggestive motions over his own chest, “particular tastes in his women. You just so happen to have the right profile for the job. Again, this is not an order, Sergeant. I need to know if you’re willing to accept.”

“Yes, sir,” you tried to appear fully in control. You knew your breasts were large, but you had never been asked to use them as a weapon. There was a first time for everything, you supposed. You would do anything to help the team.

The captain loved your composure. He knew you would be perfect for the job. 

“Good. Let's brief the team.”

Price walked with you down to the meeting room at the end of the hall and found Soap, Ghost, and Gaz sitting in the desk chairs every way except the way they were designed, lounging over the furniture like big cats, melting into the various surfaces they encountered. They fixed themselves when the captain walked in. 

“Gentlemen,” Price opened, “this is our bait. Her code name is Rabbit. Rabbit, this is Soap, Ghost, and Gaz.”

You nodded politely and resumed a semi-formal rest position. 

The men had noticed you around the base but hadn’t been formally introduced. You were a desk rider, but still, you were hard to miss. The baggy military clothing had almost managed to conceal a bounty of soft curves, but your lush body persisted beneath it, and the outlines of your feminine form made heinous suggestions in the fabric. Unfortunately for them, you didn’t hang around the gym or the common area enough for them to have generated a fully accurate image of your enticing body, but they were certain it was delicious. They watched you like peckish wolves. Waiting hungrily, shifting in their seats in anticipation. For what, you weren’t sure.

“Rabbit is going undercover for us to take down Sokolov, Vladimir Makarov’s new shipping controller. He has a particular penchant for,” Price paused just long enough for anyone to understand his true meaning, “certain types of women. Rabbit fits the mold, so all she needs is the gear and the training.”

Price cut open three large cardboard boxes to reveal slinky dresses and a number of questionable garments. 

“I’ll need to try them on,” you offered, “Do you want me to get changed, Captain?”

“Sounds good. Come back in when you’re all set,” he smiled, enjoying the view as you left the room. 

Ghost crossed his arms, clearly with quite a mouthful to share and but refusing to. Gaz stared down at the knife he was playing with, bashful. But Soap would not be cowed, and as soon as you left, he said,

“Feeding her to the sharks like bait, Captain? I dinnae ken any of us was so expendable.”

“Soap,” Price warned, “the sergeant is more than capable of handling -”

“I wasnae askin’ about the lassie’s capabilities. Send her in to slit his throat with a knife in her hand, for all I care. But to send her in unguarded, unarmed? No. It’s not right,” Soap crossed his arms. 

“He’s got a point, Captain. Why take the risk of losing an operative?” Ghost spoke coldly. 

Price furrowed his brow at their short-sightedness,

“And do what, exactly? Have the Russians scurry back underground at the first hint of an assassination attempt? We’ve failed that mission three times, boys. I’ll not have this go south again.”

“I’m sure she is capable, Captain. But, is Rabbit committed to this plan?” Gaz asked. 

“Sure,” Price tried to sound reassuring, “we spoke in my office. She agreed to come down here. Besides, she’ll have you three as backup. You won’t let anything happen to her.”

Gaz did not seem convinced. All three soldiers wore a scowl on their faces, and even though Ghost’s was obscured by his mask, his body language communicated his displeasure. Price carefully ashed his cigar to renew the glowing tip, taking a long drag while they waited for you to return. 

You were back without too much of a delay, but when you walked in, your colleagues were visibly stunned. They didn’t recognize you at first. A short black dress had replaced your camouflage fatigues, showing off miles and miles of smooth, shining skin. Your thick thighs stretched the silky fabric, and your ass threatened to escape from the edge of the dress with every step you took. Your new heels clacked sharply against the cold concrete, making your legs flex and tense, showing off your well-formed musculature. You did not miss squat day very often, apparently.

But, the assets you were trying to use for this particular mission were the real stars of the show. Your heavy breasts battled against the low dip of the dress, providing a deep display of cleavage, hinting at pink perky nipples hidden just below the line of the black silk. Your tits jiggled as you struck the floor with each careful step, making the room full of men breathe a little heavier at the sight. 

Soap’s big mouth betrayed them all,

“Christ in Heaven. There you are, bonnie.”

Ghost backhanded him hard on the shoulder. Price glowered.

You had put on a little more makeup than might be socially acceptable in an office setting, making the suggestive outfit complete. Finally, as you stood at the head of the meeting table, you took out your task force regulation braid and pulled your fingers through your hair, breaking up your long waves as they spilled down your neck and back. 

You smiled,

“Well, do I look the part?”

Price coughed, inhaling too much smoke on accident. Gaz hadn’t moved since you walked in the room. He just stood there, dumbfounded, arms held at an odd angle as if frozen in time. Ghost cleared his throat to save them,

“Yes, Rabbit. You clean up very nicely, don’t you?”

“Well,” you sighed, “this is sort of the raunchiest outfit I found in the box. I was going to go with something a bit more casual, but I thought I’d better be noticeable if we’re going to nail this asshole.”

Gaz finally came out of his locked state, aghast,

“Noticeable? Sweetheart, this is more than noticeable. Goddamn.”

“You think it’s too much? I don’t really know what would get his attention,” you shrugged, looking shy as you confessed, “I don’t get asked out very often.”

“You could go out with me, lassie,” Soap edged his way closer to her, slinking around the table, “We’d have a hell of a time, so we would.”

“Don’t listen to Johnny,” Ghost stood in front of him a bit, snaking an arm around your cinched waist, “He thinks takin’ his birds to the dog races is a good date idea.”

“Well, isn’t it?” Soap protested.

Gaz grabbed your hand tenderly, examining your fingers like they were a precious work of art,

“Maybe you could come with me to Berlin next weekend, babes. There’s a killer music festival going on, and we could have a really good time. How does that sound?”

“Boys,” Price interrupted, “I’m sure she has plenty of work to finish here; can’t just be galavanting off with you muppets. In fact, why don’t you stop by my office after this mission, bunny rabbit, and we can work on your projected shipment dates together? You know, I used to be a logistics man, myself.”

Ghost rolled his eyes at the Captain,

“Please, logistics? You drove a truck back and forth on base delivering food to the canteen twenty years ago. I’ve read your file.”

The men all started talking over each other, forgetting your presence in favor of coming out on top of the dog pile. You smiled to yourself, eager to push more of their buttons. 

Slipping one skinny strap down your shoulder, you spoke through the din,

“You know, this dress can be strapless. Do you think Sokolov wants it up…” you locked eyes with Captain Price, seeing his throat swallow hard as he watched you in the silence you had created, “or down?”

The other soldiers were stunned, unable to look away as you slipped both straps off of your shoulders and tucked them into your dress. One strap was still partially visible, and Ghost slowly moved one gloved finger up your arm, tracing your skin lightly, and finished tucking it in for you. He lingered, caressing the side of your breast as he removed it. 

“You gonna be able to seduce this Russian bastard, Sergeant? Or, do you need some practice?” Price asked with a low, threatening tone. 

The whole room held its breath waiting for your answer. The four men towered over your short frame, casting shadows over you like black spells, hoping you would relinquish your control over them. All of their eyes watched as you slowly, achingly lifted a hand and traced it up Gaz’s canvas pant leg, stopping when you discovered the heavy head of his cock, hardening down toward his knee. With the back of your hand, you pet it like a skittish animal, reveling in its smoothness and warmth. Your eyes found his as they fluttered, blood rushing through his body in a panic,

“I think I could use some practice, Captain.”

You felt Gaz’s rod leap at your answer. He bent down to kiss your mouth, slanting his lips fiercely against you. 

Soap came up behind you, gripping your ass through the silk of your dress roughly,

“We’ll help you, lass. We’ll help you practice, won’t we, boys? Jesus, you smell so good,” he buried his face in your neck and sucked against your skin. 

Ghost found your other hand and held it tightly, using it to steady you from Soap and Gaz’s assault. Price moved Gaz out of the way, earning himself a glare, and peeled the dress off of you in one fell swoop, revealing the expanse of uncovered skin underneath. 

“Holy shite,” the captain breathed, whispering his lament, “Sergeant, where are your knickers?”

“I guess I forgot them, Captain,” you blushed, batting your eyes up at him, doing actual damage to his psyche.  

He didn’t have much time to savor the moment though because Ghost was shoving him out of the way to pick you up by the thighs to lay you on the table. The giant knelt between your legs, pulling you by the knees until your ass was hanging off of the low wooden planks. He lifted his mask just enough for you to see him lick his lips over sharp, white teeth before feasting on your wet folds, letting the cloth of the balaclava hide most of his efforts. 

Ghost created a soothing, yet electrically wet warmth in your core which made you keen loudly, only to be muffled by Price’s smoky kiss. You could taste the burned tobacco on his tongue and your skin was scraped by his thick mustache. 

Gaz’s voice got your attention. He had freed his cock from his pants and started to stroke it, standing by your side and playing with your breasts with his free hand as Price savaged your mouth. He tugged on your nipple and told you,

“You know, Rabbit, you’re going to have to really put yourself out there tomorrow. Show him these gorgeous tits of yours. Make him think you’re hungry for his cock,” Gaz rubbed his head, hard and hungry for you, “Can you do that? Let us see how good you can be, princess. We need you to ace this mission”

You felt Ghost dip his hard cock between your pussy lips, distracting you from Price’s tongue in your mouth. You broke the kiss and looked up at Ghost, dazed, into his masked face,

“I promise, sir. I’ll be good,” you looked around at all four of the men, reaching out to grab Soap’s cock that he was stroking for you, “Will you show me how?”

You didn’t give Soap time to answer. The Scot gasped as you devoured him, sucking him down into your throat, making yourself gag as he fucked your throat in and out in long thrusts. He tangled his fingers in your hair. Ghost matched his rhythm below you, pounding his cock into your wet hole. You thought you could feel something on his dick. Was he pierced? You could see your slick gleam on his lips and chin where his mask was still askew. 

“Yeah,” Ghost smiled haughtily, “you like those piercings, don’tcha baby?”

You didn’t have a chance to respond. Price pulled your head away from Soap’s dick, kissing your mouth lewdly again before giving you an order,

“Open your mouth wide for me, love.”

You obeyed. Then, he spit onto your tongue, warm and bubbling, before shoving your face down onto his own fat rod. It made your lips burn with its cruel girth, even though it felt relatively soft, and you thought fleetingly that there was no way your poor little cunt was going to be able to take him, Ghost was big enough to be filling, but the captain was carrying around a true weapon. 

He pulled your head off of him roughly, watching as the strings of drool connected your tongue to his cockhead, growling in short, lustful breaths. 

“Alright, boys. Make sure she’s good and ready for me. You know the drill,” Price barked, and then he was gone. 

The drill? You looked for him, confused, and only found Gaz, who was now slapping his long dick on your cheek, knocking for entrance. He let you take his head into your mouth, having a much easier time than you did with your captain. You bobbed your head up and down dutifully, not realizing just how long his cock was until he tried to force it into your throat. He held you down for a moment, moaning shamelessly, before releasing you to let you breathe. 

“You alright, babes?” He laughed.

You nodded, moaning. Ghost took himself out of your wetness and pulled you off of the table. Soap hopped up to lay where you were, and you moved to ride him, making sure to get right to the edge with him to let Ghost back in. You’d never taken two men at once, much less four, but there was a first time for anything, and you were a quick learner. 

Spearing yourself onto Soap felt like someone had created a warm, custom, living dildo just for you. He was a perfect fit, and you both cried out in pleasure from the sensation. Ghost slapped your ass, hard, and you screamed, clenching around Soap’s cock. Soap moaned darkly. 

“Keep suckin’ that big cock, baby. Need to teach you how to multitask,” Ghost threatened as he bent to eat your asshole, wiggling his tongue into the tight rim to gain entrance.

He started to fuck you with it, his long wet muscle moving in and out as Soap thrust himself up into you, hitting your g-spot every single time like magic. You took Gaz back into your mouth and tried your best to take him deeper into your throat. Every time you did, you would gag, and your muscles would involuntarily clench, and the whole room would moan. You started to come, feeling yourself flood around Soap, whose mouth had latched onto one of your nipples, suckling like he was trying to feed from you. 

You could see Price out of the corner of your eye. He had lit another cigar and was smoking it, stroking himself, still not at his full capacity. You were scared of him. He looked like some sort of demon, breathing fire, as big around as your forearm. He wasn’t as long as Gaz, nor as delightfully curved as Soap, but he made your legs shake without even touching you. When he did touch you, rising from his chair when he wanted to fondle you, pinching a nipple, pulling your hair, forcing your head down on Gaz, it lit you up like you were kerosene and he was the match. 

Suddenly, Ghost’s tongue was gone, only to be replaced by his heavy head. He was going to fuck your ass, and there was nothing you could say to stop him. You’d only done anal once or twice before, and you knew it might hurt. He went so slowly that you could feel each and every piercing as he popped them into you, one by one. Then, as he pulled back out, you felt them pop as each one went through you again, raking himself in and out gently, as careful with you as he could be. When you were more pliant, he began to throw his weight into each thrust, and Soap started to groan below you from the sensation. 

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare, Johnny boy,” Price threatened, his voice full of stern warning. 

You weren’t sure what he was warning him about until Soap pulled his cock out of you and came all over your stomach, Ghost’s thrusts making the fluid smear between you two, rubbing your bodies together. Ghost pulled out next, and you felt his hot, thick ropes spray onto your ass cheeks, melting down your thighs. 

Gaz abandoned your mouth and took over for Soap, feeding himself inch by inch until he found your end, leaving some of his cock out in the cold. He fucked you faster than the others, not caring to move out of the way as Soap rolled off of the table, whining like a whore the whole time. 

Captain Price came around to your face, holding your chin in his hand, looking down at you without pity,

“Garrick’s got a long cock, don’t he, love? You’re being so good for my men, such a good girl. Sweet little slut, hm? You’re going to do so well on this mission. Those areholes won’t know what hit ‘em.”

He grabbed your hair fiercely, hurting your scalp, forcing you to turn and look back at Gaz. Price took a long puff from his cigar, blowing it past your face, 

“Baby, he could fuck you for a hundred years. He’s not gonna come until you scream his name.”

You heard Gaz moan louder at Price’s suggestion, so you did. You screamed for him over and over, not caring who might have heard you, begging for him to come in you. 

“He’s not allowed to come in you, love,” Price kissed your open panting mouth, “But, don’t worry. It’s about to be my turn, and you’ll be feeling my fuckin’ come drip out of your cunt all night long.”

Price’s voice made your blood run cold with fear. He wasn’t making threats. Those were clearly promises. Predictions of the future. His cock was tucked back into the band of his pants, but it lay in wait there like a serpent, eager to strike.

Your heart pounded in your chest as Gaz pulled his long shaft all the way out of you, his come shooting onto your lips and ass, feeling him use his hand to rub it into your skin, making you sticky. Your captain gave him a warning look, and you realized they had done this sort of thing before. Perhaps many times before. As you watched Soap and Ghost comfort each other, breathing close together, touching themselves, you wondered if they ever fucked each other as well. Picturing the four of them rutting into each other made you hungry, deep in your belly, starving to witness such an act. 

Finally, it was your captain’s turn. The look in his eyes made you tremble. You knew he wouldn’t be cruel, not on purpose anyway. He wasn’t a heartless man, but he wasn’t one to hold himself back from what he wanted either. You knew that he would fuck you the way he wanted to, as hard as he wanted to, no matter how much complaining you might do about how his cock would stretch you out - even to the point of pain. 

“On your back, love. Legs up. Spread that pussy open for me,” he commanded. 

You did as he told you, opening yourself up shamelessly, letting your folds spread wide. 

He walked around the table to gaze upon your form, staring at your pink flesh like it was a hot meal, and he was starving. He moaned, rubbing his hand across your sticky mons, 

“Mm, that’s my pretty little Rabbit. Now…” he paused for effect, sinking three fingers into your hole roughly but ever so slowly, twisting his arm as he did, corkscrewing his knuckles into you, “...I want you to understand that there’s a reason I’m last in line, love.”

You cried out from the pressure of his huge hand. It felt like you were going to tear. Then, after a few hard thrusts, he released you. The emptiness you felt was heartbreaking. You looked for him, pleading with your eyes for him to return to you. He pulled his cock free from his waistband, unable to connect his finger to his thumb as he wrapped around it. You whined involuntarily, something animal in you recognizing its fate. 

“Shh, baby, I know,” he drug out his voice, “I know…”

He positioned the heavy shaft on top of your body, measuring himself from base to tip, reaching your navel. As he slapped it against you, it made a loud thudding noise, slamming into your muscles like a fist. Price was so heavy. You’d never even imagined a man could feel like he was pure, warm, thick marble. Your pussy seemed to understand the panic you were feeling, flooding itself, preparing for the upcoming invasion. 

“I’m so fuckin’ eager for you, love,” he slapped you again, quick taps right to your swollen clit.

Then, he put his head inside of you, squeezing himself in. He left it inside of you and started to pump himself with his hand. Between the vibration from his fist and the fact that it felt like you were sitting on the end of a steel bat, you couldn’t hold back your keening, loud and high-pitched. 

Price began the steady, slow march forward, swelling harder and harder by the moment, making your walls feel like they might break. It seemed as if all the blood in your body was rushing down your belly and up your legs, hurrying to your core. 

Your eye were wild, full of your fear, tears forming at the corners of your eyes,

“I can’t, please! I can’t. It’s too big, fuck…”

Price didn’t stop. He just kept feeding himself in and pulling himself back out, wetting his cock’s skin with your soaking hole. 

“You can, and you will, love,” the captain growled, “Now, shut that pretty mouth and take it.”

Your cheeks were wet and your eyes burned, he was so deep within you that it felt like he was thrusting into your throat. You couldn’t breathe.

Suddenly, Soap grabbed your hand, kissing your palm, using his tongue to lick your skin,

“It’s alright, bonnie. I’m here, lass. Breathe with me, lass.”

He bent down to kiss you, but he didn’t quite connect, letting his lips graze yours featherlight. Soap breathed in and breathed out in steady, measured beats. You felt yourself begin to relax. It had such an immediate effect that you heard Price groan, able to slip himself a bit deeper than he had done. 

It was like a chain reaction, the more relaxed you became, breathing with Soap, feeling him suck and lick your nipples softly, the more Price was able to squeeze himself in. 

Finally, you felt his hair at the base of his cock, thick and curled, and as he sighed, he settled inside of you, impossibly pressing against your whole body, making a clear outline of himself in your lower belly. He rubbed it, almost fondly, and you felt every inch of him throb against your walls, his head bullying your womb.

You cried out again from the strain. Ghost and Gaz joined Soap. Gaz began to suckle from your breast on your left side, fondling himself as he did so, getting hard again. Ghost was at your head on the end of the table, and he bent to kiss you, upside down, his tongue running all the way down your throat, long and slippery against your own. 

He pulled away, petting your cheek as Price began to grind himself into you,

“You alright, Rabbit? You enjoying your captain’s cock, hm?”

“Mm hm,” you whispered, whimpering through your tears.

Ghost smiled, and his straight, white teeth looked menacing as he did, sharp, wolf-like,

“I know you are, babe. You’re doing so well. Look at him. You can see him inside of your cunt.”

He lifted your head by your hair, showing you the grotesque shadow of Price’s heavy rod as it shoved itself into you. You reached your hands down to it, feeling it through your skin. It was so unique. His size wasn’t like anything you’d ever experienced, and your body was sending confused signals of passion, your orgasms coming in shattered, broken waves. Feeling incomplete. Too powerful, and yet drawn out like the last note of a symphony. 

As you touched him from the outside, Price moaned aloud for the first time. It shocked you. You looked up at him, managing to meet his eyes.

“Fuck,” you moaned, “You feel so good inside of me, Captain.”

“Mm, yeah?” He replied, using his hands to press yours down onto his cock, making you gasp, “You like it, baby? I’m gonna make sure you never want anybody else.” 

Price reached down and grabbed you by the throat, scaring away Soap and Gaz. He lifted you up, making his dick fit inside of you that much tighter with the change of angle. Then, he began the true performance. He thrust himself in with fast, punishing strokes, slamming himself into you. You were sure you would bruise, and you felt dizzy, almost like you’d pass out. 

Soap was at your side again, holding your hair away from your face,

“Look at you, lassie. Such a good girl for your captain. Takin’ that cock so damn well. Can’t wait to be back inside you, girl.”

He kissed your cheek, palm massaging his dick which was back to full mast, eager again. 

“Alright, Johnny,” Price grinned, “Since you asked so nicely.”

Without any strain whatsoever, Price lifted you up by your hips and held you in the air as he fucked you, bringing you around the table so that Soap could position himself at your asshole. Ghost’s earlier efforts had made it ready for him, and you could very acutely feel how much he was throbbing to be inside of you, pulsing as he fit against Price. 

“Ungh, fuck, lass,” Soap groaned as he began to thrust into you, pistoning with the captain, “He’s got you so tight for me.”

“Yeah? It feels so good. Mmm…” you whimpered, feeling more full than you’d ever been. 

Johnny was holding your breasts as Price lifted you up, brutalizing your pussy. Every thrust felt like an electric pulse, making you cock-drunk and mindlessly pliant. 

They worked in tandem for what felt like eons, pistoning in and out with each other. Eventually, after he had felt you come, Soap addressed his captain directly,

“Sir, I’m…please, sir, can I?”

“Can you what, soldier?” Price grunted through gritted teeth, testing his sergeant.

“Can I come, sir? Please, Cap…”

“Yeah, Johnny. C’mon, mate. Let her feel it.”

“F-fuck! Fuck…” Soap groaned, pushing himself flush against your asshole, pumping his come into you. 

He caught his breath while he was still in you, kissing the nape of your neck, and then he pulled away slowly. He helped Gaz replace him, holding your ass wide apart so his comrade could position himself inside. And just when you thought your poor pussy would have room to breathe, Gaz’s incredibly long shaft was piercing your hole again. 

You felt him sigh, his breath against your neck. He took over holding you up, and Price praised him,

“That’s it, Garrick. She’s all yours. Take it.”

Gaz reacted to his words in a way that made you rethink their entire dynamic. Then, you remembered how he had come when you said his name. He seemed to get harder and harder the more Price praised him, and you wanted to give him that same validation. 

“Gaz,” you whispered, leaning your head back to rest on his shoulder, “It’s so big, baby. It’s like I can feel you in my throat. Oh, Gaz. Gaz!”

“Mm,” Price put his mouth to your neck, groaning, “That’s it, love. Tell him how much you like that long cock.”

“So much, Gaz. It’s so good,” you added. 

Then, Price took his left hand and wrapped it around the back of Gaz’s neck in a moment of surprising intimacy. As Price kissed the front of your throat, Gaz kissed your shoulder and nape. You felt like a peeled fruit being shared between them, a ripped rind, your juicy flesh being split in two; two halves of a ripe orange. 

Gaz lasted longer than Soap had when he fucked your ass, but Price’s attention seemed to spur him on. His movements were slippery, and you could feel the remnants of Soap’s come frothing around your entrance, easing his efforts.

“Captain,” Gaz whined, desperate for more of that approval. 

“C’mon, Kyle. She’s ready for you. Good lad.”

The use of his first name made Gaz thrust up into you with a feverish pace. He cried out as he came, hard, into you. Feeling him fall back out of you made you imagine the tendrils of a giant kraken, seeming to travel forever just to remove himself from your body, slithering out of you with a terrible squelching noise. 

Gaz let Price hold you again, and you turned, expecting Ghost. Price laughed at you, chuckling softly,

“Missing your masked man already?”

You looked at Price, feeling raw and used, waiting for an explanation,

“He’s a little…preoccupied.”

Price laid you back on the table, letting you turn your head to see Ghost, buried in Soap’s asshole up to the hilt, furiously jacking him off, slamming into him a little too roughly for your liking. It was violent, but Soap seemed to be enjoying himself beyond measure. 

Your pussy, though, disagreed with your assessment, clenching around Price’s cock while you watched Simon abuse his friend’s hole. 

“Mm,” the captain moaned, feeling your muscles react, “You like that, love? You wanna be fucked rough like that?”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer. Price wrapped your legs beneath his chest in a full mating press and wrecked you, pounding into your body like a giant fist. You felt your bones shudder beneath his behemoth form. Just when you thought you might puke from how overstimulated you were, you felt him pause. Then, your pussy felt like it was leaking, and it was. Price’s come just kept milking its way out of you, his cock pulsing inside, making your walls throb. 

When he finished, he kissed you on the mouth, almost lovingly, reverently. He started to slide out of you, being extremely careful, and you’d never felt so empty in your entire life. It was as if you’d never be full again. You found yourself whining, whimpering for Price to return. 

“That’s right, pretty girl,” Price smiled, “Never gonna want anybody else, are ya?”

You smiled, shocked and in considerable discomfort. Gaz scooped you up off of the table, cradling you, sitting down with you in his lap in a large chair. He reached down for some water and handed it to you, helping you recover. 

Price was standing with his hands on his hips, panting from his exertion. Ghost and Soap were connected like two hounds, locked together, the Scot cock warming his tall lover, groaning on every exhale. 

“Well, what do you think, lads? Do we have a winner?” Price asked.

“Yeah, we fucking do, Cap,” Gaz pet your head, moving your sweaty hair out of your eyes. 

“Fuck yeah, mate,” Ghost growled, pawing at Johnny again, rabid for him. 

“Hear that, bonnie?” Soap managed to ask, still moaning in little breaths as he was being speared by Ghost, “Got  yourself a new permanent assignment.”

Price walked over to you, grabbing you by the face and kissing you once more,

“You belong to us now, love. Perfect little slut.”

AO3 Link

[fairytailsideblog]

 via  Gridllr.com  —  see your older Likes!

We got to Erza aiming to sacrifice herself to save natsu and I have to say: why didn't we use tower of heaven for the scene where Erza teaches natsu to read? Why not lean into both natsu and Gray's relationships with her rather than just focusing on how Gray cares about her leading to weird romance vibes.

On top of that, we shouldn't have had all those moments with romantic connotations for Simon and jellal either in my opinion. In arcs like this where we don't have long running familiarity with the cast, sibling dynamics hit way harder than unrequited love. You can still have jellal manipulate erza through their family tie and the absolute pain of Simon sacrificing himself for someone he considered a sister would've gutted me.

[a-b-riddle]

Not me imagining medic reader who acts weird around Ghost.

At first everyone thinks that you’re just weirded out. 6’4 wall of a man in a skull mask. His eyes covered in black makeup and eyes such a deep brown they’re almost black. Anyone in their right mind would be on edge.

But then as time progresses it doesn’t stop. You don’t ease up no matter how many times you’ve been around Ghost. Eventually the 141 begins to suspect something much more sinister.

Theories of knowing something about Ghost you shouldn’t. Are you working for Makarov and worried? Your eyes never leave him anytime he enters a room. Your voice wavering anytime he asks you a question. You’re not like that with the others. You’re hiding something. And they know it.

Johnny is the one you’ve gotten closest to in the 141. The one who wants to believe you’re not a traitor. You’re Birdie for Christ’s sake. Their bird, as they call you. You couldn’t be betraying them. He’s able to convince the guys to let him get you drunk. See if you slip up.

It’s a quiet night on base. Johnny had manage to get flavored vodka imported. Enticing you to come have a drink in his barracks.

And boy, do you.

You get too tipsy to notice how off Johnny seems. How his voice is softer, more alluring. You also down notice the phone face down on the table, serving as a live walkie-talkie between him and the others listening in Price’s office.

Johnny and you bullshit around. Talking about F1 racing, the need for more help in the medbay and even what your plans are when you get back home.

Eventually, he can’t take it anymore. He needs to know.

“What’s your deal with the Simon?” He finally asks. His question grants you pause, almost instantly sobering you up. Johnny sees it in your eyes. His heart breaking because he begins to believe he was wrong.

“Hen,” his hand grabs yours, when you don’t say anything. “I know something is going on.” You try and pull away but he doesn’t let go.

“Have-” you begin, trying to figure out how to tell him. Johnny is your friend. He wouldn’t care. But you fail to come up with the words. “Fuck.”

“Please.” He begs. “You know you can tell me.” You wait. Contemplating if you should tell him. But then it could mean losing any respect you had earned with them.

“You can’t judge me.” You made him promise, tears beginning to well in your eyes.

“I won’t.” He promises, offering a squeeze of reassurance. He knew that the moment you confessed to whatever it was you were hiding, the team would be in there. He knew what would happen to you. And although there were no romantic feelings he held toward you, he still cared.

You took a deep breath.

“It’s the mask.” You confessed. “It’s hot.” Now it was Johnny’s turn to pause.

The mask?

“What?” He asked in disbelief, pulling his hand off of yours. “What do you mean it’s hot?” “You’re worried that he’s sweating underneath it.”

“I want to fuck him.” It felt like a weight lifted the moment your confession of lust escaped your lips.

Johnny sat there, knowing his Captain, fellow Sergeant and, most importantly, his Lieutenant were listening on the other end of the phone.

“Simon.” he clarified. “Ye want to fuck Simon.”

“I mean if he keeps the mask on.” You shrug, looking at his bewildered expression. “It’s a kink, Johnny. Some people like feet or being led around on a dog leash.” You down the rest of the sweetened liquor, cringing as the last sip makes your stomach flip. “Men in masks do it for me. It’s a thing now. Lots of women like it.”

He doesn’t say anything. The room filled with uncomfortable silence until he breaks out in laughter.

“If you say anything, I will murder you and we both know I can make it look like an accident.” You threaten.

“Feckin’ hell.” He sighs, wiping tears from his eyes. “This isn’t how I expected the conversation to go.”

“Well,” you say standing, needing a moment to get your bearings. “It’s also over. I’m calling it a night.”

“I’ll walk ye back to yer room.” He says standing.

“No need.” You wave off. “I’m good.”

He knows you’re right. But now guilt eats away at him for even thinking you were a traitor. So he lets you go, listening to the sound of your footsteps fading as you walk down the empty corridor.

Several minutes later the others join him in his barracks. None of them saying something until, Johnny looks at Simon.

“Looks like the little Bird has a thing for you, Lt.”

Simon rolls his eyes.

Thankful that his mask is hiding his shit eating grin.

[coruscatiio]

tag drop, master goldmine / og goldmine (according to brent)

001.  GOLDMINE. but i have promises to keep (in character)

001.  GOLDMINE. we cannot become what we want by remaining what we are (headcanon)

001.  GOLDMINE. it’s the wild ones who will set you free (drabble)

001.  GOLDMINE. an invention of darkness (aesthetic)

001.  GOLDMINE. what matters most is how well you walk through the fire (isms)

001.  GOLDMINE. my heart‚ like a clenching fist (esque)

001.  GOLDMINE. something i've thought that i can't outrun (thoughts)

001.  GOLDMINE. we're leaving things unsaid‚ we sing ourselves to sleep (music)

001.  GOLDMINE. we have spoken of everything short of love (&porlyusica)

001.  GOLDMINE. there's really no way to reach me 'cause i'm already gone (&makarov)

001.  GOLDMINE. they said we'd understand when we were older (&bob)

001.  GOLDMINE. and days die young when you're gone‚ and you're gone (&team)

001.  GOLDMINE. freedom means to live in the present (&quatro cerberus)

001.  GOLDMINE. sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same (main)

[yeyinde]

winter soldier au with John Price who was held in a gulag for three years and comes home wrong. comes back snarling and furious and threatening to rip apart the goddamn world if they don't give him what belongs to him, what's rightfully his, if they don't give him back his fucking wife, right this second—

the only problem is: John's ex-wife remarried. she's halfway around the world, and Laswell knows John enough to immediately squash that idea right away. but if not her, then who?

and then you walk into the room—a newly hired secretary that John has met less than a handful of times; a pencil pusher barely even a blip on the radar—but he pounces. snatches you up before any of them can react, tucking your bemused face into his chest, cradling you tight; possessively clutching at you as Kyle tries, and fails, to calm him down.

"you don't know her, sir. just let the girl go—"

it's met with a nasty snarl. all gleaming, bloodied teeth. a stranger in a familiar shape as John drags you further away from them. "this is my goddamn wife."

his declaration is met with shock. you're definitely not his wife. you barely know him much outside of a several, threadbare exchanges where he breathed down your neck about filing the wrong reports, and the cluttered mess of your desk ("a goddamn eyesore—"). you're not even friends. and in all honesty, you didn't even think he liked you that much. so. wife?

but he's beyond reason. his head a mangled, trenched mess of artillery fire and Makarov's torture. three years, Kate breathes. three whole years.

you can tell, almost immediately, by the look on her face that this—that you—will become a necessary loss in the grand scheme of things. and when John lets her close enough to whisper into your ear (having somehow convinced him that he can just walk out of here with you, his fucking wife, leaving for the marital home (and bed) that he demands from them for this brief stalemate)—she hurriedly tells you about their plot. this high risk, no reward scenario of playing along. not that you have much of a choice.

keeping John Price as close to them as possible was worth more than something as flimsy, as malleable as your agency, your autonomy. and if the way to do it was to let a brainwashed man play house with you, then so be it.

she, at the very least, offers a grim sort of smile even though you can see her working out the mechanics of it all as she makes promises on your behalf. things like, yes, John, you can leave with your wife. she missed you so much, John. she's so happy you're home.

"we kept your wife safe for you, John—" no one seems to react to the violent way Johnny has to be dragged out of the room by Ghost, kicking and screaming at the injustice of it all because th' captain wouldnae do this! don't do this t'him!

and John—if there's any part of that man still inside him, he doesn't let an inch of it show—just nods, lip pulling up into a snarl as he bullies you closer to his chest, and growls about finally getting you home.

"I'll keep you with me," he rasps, blunt fingers spreading wide over the fill of your body. a mad, twisted gleam of possessiveness, ownership, burning in bruised blue as he familiarises himself with this body he claimed as his. "right where you belong, wife."

(the word comes out in a bite. snaps around you and sounds just like mine.)

[eenochian]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGJte3P7N/

Starting to see what you see in Yuri, he’s 👀

THAT’S WHAT I’VE BEEN SAYINGGGGGGG

AUGHHHHHHHHHH GOD I KNOW I’VE BEEN ON A MAKAROV KICK LATELY BUT I’M GONNA FUCKING COMBUST BESTIE I LOVE HIM SO MUCH

the way people don’t talk about him enough and ONLY mention him when talking about other characters. like fandom people PLEASE HE IS A CHARACTER OUTSIDE OF MAKAROV PLEASE PLEASE HE’S SO INTERESTING AND IF YOU JUST LOOK AT HIM YOU’LL UNDERSTAND

(i had to add a read more bc i went insane i’m so sorry 😭)

his entire backstory is so good. the original trilogy had like four pairs that all reflected each other and i’m so excited to ramble publicly about this instead of annoying my brother— like. okay. we all know that price-soap was THE duo of the OG games. but there’s also shepherd-allen, zakhaev-makarov, and makarov-yuri. HEAR ME OUT ON THIS.

price-soap is very much a mentor-mentee relationship. price basically took soap under his wing after the latter joined the SAS and helped him become the best of the best. this really reflects shepherd-allen and zakhaev-makarov, which are both darker adaptations of this duo. shepherd-allen involves someone “good” (allen) being manipulated and influenced by someone “bad” (shepherd) in order to achieve a goal. zakhaev-makarov is even darker, with someone “bad” (zakhaev) training someone (makarov) to become even worse, or, in their minds, the best of the best. it’s all in reverse.

makarov-yuri is a LITTLE bit different here, since the two are closer in age. they met sometime in 1994 or (more likely) 1995, when makarov was 24-25 and yuri was “young”, but old enough to be spetsnaz (likely ~22 years old). the two became friends because zakhaev liked yuri’s patriotism and loyalty to his country, so he and makarov welcomed him in with promises of “restoring russia’s glory” and all that bullshit that the ultranationalists preached y’know. still, makarov and yuri became close friends and yuri spent the next 16 or so years thinking he was doing right by his people and helping his country, ONLY TO FIND OUT WHEN MAKAROV NUKED 30,000 PEOPLE THAT OH?? WE’RE THE BAD GUYS???

most people think that yuri didn’t betray makarov until 2016, during the airport massacre/no russian. HOWEVER. soap’s journal (my beloved) mentions yuri a couple times, and one of those times soap says something along the lines of “nikolai vouches for him (yuri), says they go way back.”

nikolai was literally introduced as an ultranationalist informant. it’s completely possible, if not LIKELY, that the two met while nik was undercover, and that after the nuke (which happened after nik was compromised), yuri got into contact with him. yuri says in his flashback sequence that the nuke was when he realized “this wasn’t war, it was madness” and i’m just like… y’all really thought a man saying that was gonna be chill for the next five years? i’m convinced he was feeding nikolai information, and the reason why makarov didn’t confront him until the airport massacre was because makarov trusted him, so he didn’t discover the betrayal until then.

HE’S SO COMPLICATED OKAY HE THOUGHT HE WAS DOING SOMETHING RIGHT ONLY TO DISCOVER THAT HE WAS IN THE WRONG AND THAT HE HAD TO FIX THE MISTAKES HE MADE. like, when he’s introduced in MW3, nikolai straight up tells price that yuri’s the only person that hates makarov more than he does. most of that hatred is DEFINITELY yuri feeling betrayed by the person he was closest with, but i’m willing to bet part of that anger was his own self-hatred for what he had done. it’s easier to project it onto someone else, to find someone easy to blame for his own mistakes. he WAS manipulated and lied to. however, he was still responsible for his own actions. makarov never forced his hand, yuri made his choices.

i could say more. his tattoos give so much info. the fact that he even ended up in that situation says so much to me. but froggi. bestie. his personality. no one talks about it enough.

his personality is a little difficult to see because he’s silent most levels and only talks occasionally during cutscenes. BUT THAT’S WHY “DUST TO DUST” AND “BLOOD BROTHERS” ARE THE BEST LEVELS. he’s literally just— like. okay. he literally starts off dust to dust by making a fucking joke. he and price are getting shot at, about to kill their greatest enemy, and this dude cracks a joke. makarov’s men are yelling and shooting at them, and yuri looks at price and just goes, “i think they know we’re here! :)” like YEAH. THEY SURE DO. KISS ME RIGHT NOW.

but also just. he’s a mixture of methodical planning and research – he memorizes info, he pays attention to people and their patterns. he was makarov’s right hand man, the second-in-command of the inner circle, one of the loyalist commanders (and probs the most involved of the three). his literal job after joining the ultranationalists was to escort and guard makarov. he was constantly working against overt AND covert enemies, he didn’t survive that job for 20 years by NOT knowing how to read people.

i said he’s a mixture because he’s also reckless as hell. not anymore so than someone like soap, but in “dust to dust”, price has to reel him in. after the elevator sequence, yuri just. picks up a frag grenade, throws it, and sprints right after it?? also vaults over a couch so that was hot as fuck, but price literally has to go, “yuri your armor’s gone, BE FUCKING CAREFUL” because he’s just rushing in. he wanted blood and i’m just… 🫣. usually he’s patient and takes the time to do things smart. but he’s also perfectly willing to use dangerous tactics and risky maneuvers to get the job done. he keeps his composure alarmingly well, but there are things that can make him lose it because he’s still human. like in blood brothers? after he and soap fall from the tower and are laying on the street?? yuri’s barely awake, barely ALIVE, and he’s desperately reaching out to soap, one of his ONLY true allies, trying to save him. i’m so confident in that moment being horrible for yuri. one of his only friends and allies was killed by his former friend, and even though yuri’s presence wasn’t the reason for the bomb being planted, i can guarantee that he blamed himself for soap dying.

i’m just. AUGSSKDLWJWHFKDBWBDLFOWJ. i’m sliding down the wall ripping my hair out screaming crying rattling my cage bars losing my mind. i love yuri so much. he’s so interesting and the fact that people only talk about him when talking about makarov makes me so sad. like yes the two are very important to each other’s stories but C’MON. yuri may have a buzzcut and blue eyes but he’s also my gorgeous babygirl that can SPRINT while carrying a 6’2” man on his shoulders in a sandstorm 🤭

he’s also legitimately the reason why my brother thought COD had super soldiers. the amount of shit yuri survived and the sheer amount of stuff it took to kill him is insane. it took a consecutive TWO direct-impact rockets, being set on fire, impaled on metal, AND three bullets to the chest and head to finally kill him??? he deadass survived being shot point-blank, another rocket that led to him falling down a cliff into a raging river five days after being shot, falling out of a clocktower (like TEN stories??) and slamming into scaffolding before landing on a stone road, price punching him down a flight of stairs like 30 minutes after, ANOTHER DIRECT-HIT ROCKET—

it’s wild. he’s my indestructible beloved military wife. my main oc is a medic because this man needs someone to treat his wounds around the clock. i love him so much it’s not even funny. if he’s not in the reboot i’m marching down to IW and activision and starting a riot. if he does appear then i’m gonna write fics faster than the speed of light. i’ve already got plans for a makarov/reader/yuri fic that’s gonna be pure filth because i’m a simp.

anywho i hope this answer was a reasonable length and very sane to you! 🤞🩷

[pencilofawesomeness]

TW x FT: Markov reaction to NRC especially the overblots . Also does team FT try to teach the night NRC students their magic? If succeed, what magic do they learn?

See, the funny thing is, is that beating the evil out of your friend/foe until they're not evil anymore is hilariously common for FT, so honestly, I doubt they would bat an eye, Makarov included. “Oh, a student tried to scheme against the student body and then went berserk and tried to kill people? Reminds me of the time Gajeel tried to destroy the whole guild. Kids just need a little push, am'i'right?”

And yeah, I do think the kiddos will try to swap magic. I think it might be somewhat successful, because they have similar magic systems (self-generated, multi-functional/soft) though peeps in the FT world do specialize more while magic stays pretty generic in TW. So, for instance, we can probably get some make magic shenanigans afoot, or creative uses of summoning personal items requip-style, but then the TW kids might see takeover magic or even the easy application of transformations and perish, because that stuff is difficult. Meanwhile the FT lot would be amazed by the wide variety of magic any one individual can accomplish. (Also technology. It would blow their minds.)

[firstaidspray]

Sucks that they made Price hot in the reboot like that mf resembles Liev Schreiber way too much he is so my type now and it's gonna make me sad if he does what happens in the originals and is the reason for Makarov's end cause I don't wanna get mad at Price now that he's hot