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#Mentions of Soap
bigassmoonchild · 8 months
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Mirrors
Pairing: Captain John Price x Reader
Word Count: 2.7k
Summary: Price and the 141 join forces with another special forces team, tracking down a known mercenary and trying to protect a much-hated political figure. Price gets distracted by the captain he's working with.
Content Tags: Smut, Mentions of Violence, Some fluff, Oral Sex (M Receiving), Fingering, Slight Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, PiV Sex, Dom! Price, Slightly Mean Price, Mirror Sex
A/N: I'm really spoiling y'all. I probably won't post this frequently in the future, I've just been in a writing mood. It'll turn out to be once every Friday and/or Saturday. As always, content is under the cut and my asks are open <3.
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"Hey Price, how are we going to know who to not shoot if shit goes down?" Soap asked through the comms, Price looking out the windows to try and find the man. He took a sip of the drink he was holding, watered down whiskey that he's been holding on to since they got there.
Price looked around the venue, counting the people working with him. "Anyone wearing red," his eyes landed on you. Bright red dress hugging your curves, a sly smile on your face as you spoke with someone. Your eyes never stopped moving, catching his for a second before moving on.
He kept looking around. Price could see the political figure they were sent to protect, some American whose head was on the black market. A few of your own soldiers were scattered around, some sitting at the bar, others chatting amongst themselves near entry points.
From the debriefing you'd given, it was a hit or miss when it came to whether or not he would be attempting to snipe the man or go in for a quick shot. So you'd gotten Ghost and Soap, alongside two of your own sharp-shooters to set up at vantage points along the outside of the high-rise, the rest would set up inside. It was your decision to mark the teams a color, just in case the sharp-shooters got confused within the confusion of someone causing a panic.
Price had liked you from the beginning. Quick witted and smart, letting him relax from taking the lead for once. He'd known you just under 24 hours and you intrigued him.
"You might want to stop staring, Price, it could lead to some unwanted attention," your voice came through the comms, and when he looked for you, you hadn't been in the same place you were just a few moments ago.
Your arm wrapped around his, giggling a little but staring through him.
"Seriously, the guy in white has been watching me for a few minutes now, and I don't think he just wants to buy me a drink," you shifted just a bit, allowing Prices head to move in the direction the guy you'd been talking about. Price gave a fake laugh, pulling you in closer to him, watching the man turn away.
Price looked down at you. "Do you think he knows?" You looked away for a moment, giving a faint shrug at that. "Is he someone from your past?" You grimaced slightly. "Oh lord, do tell," he smiled slightly.
You pulled back a bit, giving a small face. "He was wanted a few years back for attempted murder on some big guy, he got the military sent after him and we were who got sent. He really didn't like that, especially when he was released with no connections to the crime," you glanced back slightly, eyes flittering to find the man, but he seemed to disappear.
Price looked as well, but couldn't find him, so his eyes found yours again and tugged you a little closer.
"You know what?" You hummed in response. "I don't quite think I've seen someone quite as beautiful as you," you snorted, shaking your head.
"Very forward, aren't you?" You smiled at him. He gave a shrug, eyes looking over you. "As much as I appreciate the compliment, I do think your pretty little eyes should be looking elsewhere," you whispered to him.
Price found himself looking over your head, finding Gaz giving him an interesting look before gazing away. "We both know how often we have time for interesting people, might as well take the time we have, huh?" You rolled your eyes a little, sliding your hands up his chest.
"I can't help but agree with that sentiment, John," you smiled, spinning in his arms and gazing out across the room. "I think it'll seem a little suspicious that we're standing together so long, so I'll be back to 'flirting' with whoever will talk to me," you used air quotes, rolling your eyes softly before disappearing back amongst the crowd. Price gave a small laugh, taking another sip of the watered down whiskey and glancing back around the room.
A few more men walked in, all wearing white as well. This caught his attention, watching as they met up with the first man. He watched you spin slightly towards them, keeping the group of guys in your line of sight. You gave Price a small glance over your glass, looking back at the men and he tilted his head back, going to take a sip from his glass to cover his mouth.
"Keep an eye on the men in white," affirmatives were given to him over the comms, and he could see a few of your own men shifting themselves to get an eye on the group.
The group of them had started to surround the man the group of you were hired to protect, and you watched as a few of your own men started to tense.
Your fingers twitched, making the men in your squad pause. Price watched as you stood, nearly gliding over to one of the new-comers and dragging him away, rubbing yourself on him and whispering something in his ear. Price could see the smirk from where he stood, watching as you guided him to a couch and your hand sliding to his neck.
Price assumed it was a tranq you hit him with, watching the man slump over before you stood. You gave the men a quick gesture, watching as the three others started to press in. Price placed the drink he'd never been able to finish on the table, pushing off and adjusting his sleeves as he moved in on them as well. It was when the man in the back pulled out a gun that any of you moved quicker.
"Hey!" You shouted, pulling a pistol from a holster on your thigh, aiming it straight for the man.
Through the chaos, Price couldn't see exactly what had happened. People had started running and screaming, shoving him around but he could hear a gunshot, quickly followed by the sound of glass breaking and bullets whistling by. The sounds of bodies dropping weren't slow to follow them, and Price kept pushing through the screaming crowd.
When he finally got through the crowd, he saw the three men on the ground, your pistol was lowered, staring down at the men now lying motionless with red staining their suits. You looked behind you and found Price, two of your men on your squad had come around to check the guys.
The guy you were protecting was shaken, and you turned your attention to him. You leaned in to him, arm on his shoulder and guiding him to a seat, getting him to sit down. Price looked back around, the area mostly deserted by civilians.
"Keep an eye out. We don't know if they're the only ones sent," he said through the comms, eyes still moving through the area. As much as Price tried to stop it, his eyes couldn't stop finding you. You were smiling and laughing with the man, and he felt pangs of jealousy.
Why? You were a colleague at this point, there was no reason to feel this way. You'd come and you'd go, just like the others he worked with. There was something different, though. You were beautiful, yes, but you had more personality than the others he'd worked with.
Especially the way you spoke with people, understanding and elegance with the way you talked. He appreciated a well-spoken person.
Price felt a touch on his arm, snapping out of his stupor and looking down at you. Your head jerked to the side, tugging him out of the room.
"He didn't even know he had a hit out on him," you started, finding a mirror hanging in the hall and looking yourself over. "Usually these kind of men believe that they're getting hunted, at all times, but he seems genuinely shaken," you looked at Price. "You think it's just a ruse?"
He had to think for a moment, eyes flittering over you. He leaned against the wall, rubbing his beard for a moment.
"I honestly think he's full of it," he gave you a smile and you huffed, rolling your eyes. Price leaned towards you, hands finding your hips. "Let's be honest, he hasn't got much going for him. I've seen his press, and it isn't pretty," you smiled, leaning towards him, arms sneaking up his chest.
"I'm sure he won't be the only one full of something this evening, like you said, we should take our chances when we can," you slid backwards, tugging him alongside with you, hands sliding into his and turning to find where you were intending to go.
Turning the corner, you opened the bathroom door and dragging him inside. Price locked it behind the two of you, watching as you continued walking, stopping in front of the sinks and mirrors. He stalked up to you, hands sliding along your hips and grabbing at your waist, pressing you into the sink.
He could feel you pressing back against him, sliding his arms up to unzip your dress. You slid the straps off of your arms and let the dress fall, unveiling your braless chest and simple panties, his eyes grazing across you through the mirror.
Spinning around, you dropped to your knees in front of him and palming him through his pants. He watched as you undid his belt, undoing his button and unzipping his pants. You gave a little smile, tugging his pants and briefs off of him.
John groaned, letting his head fall back as his hand found your head. He could feel your hand sliding along his cock before the heat of your mouth took him. Your tongue slid along his head before moving to take him deeper.
Your hand stroked what your mouth couldn't comfortably fit and he moaned with each suck, hand helping to guide you to a steady rhythm. When he looked down, your eyes were already searching for his. He couldn't help but let his mouth drop open with his moan, hand pushing for your mouth to move faster.
A short chuckle escaped him with the gag you let out, eyes scrunching shut as he started abusing the back of your throat. He watched as a few tears escaped your eyes, rolling down your cheeks before he tugged on your hair to pull your head off of him.
Your eyes stayed shut, a thin string of spit connecting you to him and he smiled at that. Price tugged you up, sitting you back on the sink and leaning in to suck and nip at your neck.
"You'll be a good girl for me, won't you?" He smiled into your neck, hand sliding down to push your panties to the side. He could feel how wet you were even through the cloth, and stroked from your clit to your opening, sliding a finger in.
Your head dropped back as you moaned, leaving your neck open to more attacks from his mouth. He sucked bruises into it, curling his finger into your g-spot and feeling your hand find his wrist, grasping it tightly.
Price chuckled, sliding another finger in, trying to stretch you out. He could feel you pulsing against his fingers, hand tugging at his wrist with each movement he made.
He nipped your neck. "Come on, sweet girl, beg for me," he whispered into your ear, watching as your eyes just barely opened and mouth closing before trying to talk. When you did, he added one more finger, watching your eyes roll back when he kept pumping against your g-spot, thumb sliding against your clit.
God, he could listen to your moans for hours, little whines close to his ear when he moved to continue nipping at your neck. He pulled his fingers out, tugging you off of the sink and bending you over it instead.
He stroked his cock along your folds, watching your head drop between your arms.
"Please," it was a whisper, slightly crackly from the moans you'd been giving him.
"Please, what?" He urged you on, feeling your hips grind back on him, trying to get him to slide in. John tugged your head back by your hair, making you look at him through the mirror. "I'm not doing anything until you ask me to, sweet girl," he leaned back up, holding your hips still.
You blinked at him, slow and thoughtless. "Please, Captain, fuck me. Need your cock in me, sir, please," and he pressed in, sliding slowly into you. He watched your mouth drop open and brows furrow, eyes struggling to remain open.
Bottoming out, John let his head fall back, moaning low in pleasure. Your cunt was spasming around his cock, pleasure pooling from where you could feel him pressed so deeply in you. Gasping moans fell from your mouth when he pulled back out, fingers finding your clit and stroking slow.
Not waiting too much longer, he started to quicken his pace, dropping your hair to pull your hips back to meet each of his thrusts. Your arms shook from holding yourself up and stopping yourself from moving too much with each thrust, head falling back between them. You finally shut your mouth, swallowing thickly around a moan.
You could feel your cunt begin to spasm, pleasure spreading through your gut and causing a few tears to fall. Each thrust stuttered your moans, your hands grasping the sink under you harder as you came, the pleasure making your legs buckle, leaving John as the only source holding you up.
He didn't stop his rampage on your clit, one of your hands finding his and trying to pull it back.
"No, you don't get to pull me away from your pretty little clit," he shoved you back over the sink, hand getting caught under your body and stopping you from moving it anymore. "I'll keep you cumming around me, sweetheart, and you'll take it," he whispered and flicked his fingers around you clit faster.
You could feel the tears pouring down your cheeks as your body jerked with each press of his cock on your g-spot, each time his fingers stroked on your clit.
Head dropping, John looked down at where he could feel you sucking him in, watching your cunt drag him back in each time he pulled out. Your little gaspy whines echoed in the bathroom, and he slid his hand along your back to grab at your ass.
"Such a good little thing for me, hmm?" He glanced at the mirror, seeing your eyes scrunched shut and feeling your hips begin to twitch with another orgasm. "Cumming again so soon?" John couldn't help but smile at that, giving your ass a smack and feeling your cunt spasm. With a chuckle, he regained his torture against your clit and picked the speed back up.
He leaned over you, biting at your neck and sucking another hickey into it, hearing you gasp into your orgasm and grow silent, your cunt spasming around his cock with each flick over your clit. You could feel the searing pleasure flow through you, sliding against the sink with each thrust.
Seemingly regaining your voice, you let out a high pitched moan and writhed against him. John could feel his own orgasm building up on him and he relented on your clit, grabbing your hips tightly with his hands, tugging your hips back into his thrusts before pulling out, stroking his cock until he came along your ass.
John took a moment to admire you, his cum coating your ass and your slick dripping down your thighs. He tucked himself back into his pants, grabbing a paper towel to clean you up and grabbing your dress, sliding it over you, helping you zip it up.
Wiping the mascara that dripped down your face, he gave you a small smile. "You doing okay?" And all you could do was nod, letting your head fall onto his chest. He stood there, arms wrapping around you and slowly rocking you.
"'m okay," you whispered, wrapping your own arms around him. His head dropped onto yours, letting his smile grow.
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bluegiragi · 5 months
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work it out (part 1)
early access + nsfw on patreon
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 6 months
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Hello, Congratulations on the 5k follows!!
I discovered this fandom a few months ago and have been living for your writing ever since.
I was thinking as a drabble of the taskforce gentlemen coming home at the crack of dawn from a long mission and seeing their spouse's hand, limp on the ground peeking out from the side of the couch. All the panic and worry going thru their heads, so much bubbling up, horrible scenarios. They rush over and find you sleeping on the floor. The power had gone out last night and the hardwood floor was the coolest place to be (you didn't want to open the window because you know how they worry), so you were watching stuff on your phone and drifted off. Crisis averted!
Thank you for your time 💜
—Wide-Eyed Panic
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⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ
╰┈➤ ❝ [Why were you behind the couch?] ❞
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I’ll start by saying all of them would be concerned and immediately go into panic mode—why were you behind the couch? Why was your hand sticking out? Why, in God's name, were you not moving? Cue the horrible thoughts and flashes of what went on in their work lives.
John Price ➺
John entered the house with a sigh, slipping off his boots as the door was closed and deftly locked behind him. Grunting under his breath, the man rubs over his face, the lights off as he calls out with a tired grumble to his voice. 
“I’m back,” his voice echoes, the tone moving through the darkness far louder than it should have. There’s no answer. “Love…?” Pausing, John blinks slowly at the wall, ear twitching to the utter silence of the home. No water in the pipes. No buzzing of electricity. No you. Eyes rising, they dart around quickly as his finger moves out to the light switch. A small push elicits nothing, just as he thought. The power was out. 
Dread slowly creeps into John’s chest.
Hand reaching behind his back, the man’s fingers inch over the smooth metal of a pistol, grasping the weapon before he begins walking forward. He keeps silent, feet moving to where he knows the wood won't creak. 
His mind runs. 
Why was the power off? Where were you? Why didn’t you respond—were you hurt? John’s mind goes to blood and bullets, his jaw clenching tightly as the pistol comes out to rest in front of him; hands shifting the grip as he takes a soothing breath. Panicking wouldn’t help anyone, but it would be pointless to lie about how his heart hammers. 
“Fuck,” he growls, eyes going tight. 
That’s when he sees it. Blue eyes widen sharply. 
“Love!” John shouts, all other concerns about intruders meaningless to him. Your hand was sticking out from behind the couch, a dark shadow in the low light. He rushes over as you jerk, yelling in alarm as he rushes to grab you, pulling you up into his arms and pulling you away into the closet across the room.
“John!” You blink rapidly as you’re set back against the wall. 
“Shush now,” he grunts, eyes panicked. “Keep awake, let me look.” A hand moves all over your body, searching and pulling at clothes to touch the skin for any wounds. “Tell me where it hurts, then. Quickly. We have to move—”
“John, what the hell,” you push at him, moving him back. Your eyes try to adjust to being so rudely awakened at such an hour. “What are you doing?!”
You weren’t hurt. 
The Captain’s face pulls in with confusion, back against the closet door and now in more darkness than ever before. He can barely make out your face before you sigh and put your hands against his arms. 
Things begin to calm down as his hand rests at your hip, nearly tight enough to bruise. In his other is the gun just before you put your hand to it and softly peel the item away from him—putting it on the shelf that you know is to your left. 
Hands find John’s cheeks as he pants.
“John,” you say his name again. “...what happened.”
“Why were you on the ground?” He forces out firmly, voice a low grunt. “Why were the lights not—”
“The power went out for everyone, okay?” You speak slowly, rubbing your thumbs over his beard. “It was on the news. I didn’t open a window because I knew you would worry about that—the floor was cool and it was getting too hot in here.” 
Your mind tells you to explain quickly and fluently. You move forward and press your forehead into John’s as he sags with a great exhalation of breath—his arms circling you tightly until your spine might crack. 
He doesn’t speak for a long while, just holding you.
“Scared me,” he mutters, missing you deeply on the forehead, speaking into your skin. “Fuck, you scared me.”
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. 
He keeps you to his chest, eyes fluttering shut and his spine hunching over you, fingers splayed over your back. You run your hands through his hair and calm the swelling of your heart.
You can feel his pulse mirroring your own.
Simon Riley ➺
When he sees your hand, he freezes. 
Simon wasn’t a stranger to the lights being off in the home—you opted for lamps and low light more often than not; this wasn’t new. He had only quirked a brow when he came home to the pitch-blackness, off from his recent deployment and eager for a warm bed to fall into. He admits he’d let himself calm down on the car ride home—your home was where he could relax and release tension until it became as unimportant as an ant on the pavement. 
But when he’d closed the door silently behind him and walked the few steps it would take to enter the living room, where he was sure you were still up either reading or watching something on your phone under a blanket, his body had stiffened immediately. 
Your hand sticking out from behind the couch. Limp. 
Lifeless.  
He’d been staring at it for only a few seconds before the memories came back—the ones of gore splattered to the walls and ceiling of an old flat back in Manchester. 
Simon’s thoughts had hit him like a bullet.
Not again.
Rushing forward like a bear, the man slips along the hardwood as his knees go down, shaking the home at the force at which he grabs at your body and flips you from your side to your back. 
You gasp awake and instinctually throw out a fist, connecting with a stone chest as you hiss and blink in panic. 
Fingers ruthlessly dig into your shoulders, wide brown eyes open, and…and afraid. 
“Simon?” You mutter softly, all fear in your heart is squished in an instant. 
The man breathes through wheezes, balaclava fabric moving from the force of his breaths. His fingers are shaking, blinking as his head jerks to look your lying form up and down swiftly. 
You hesitantly put a hand on his cheek and he flinches before nuzzling into it. 
“Don’t…” he takes a quivering breath into his lungs, and after, loosens his grip on your skin. Simon’s hands go to your waist, dragging you up and stapling you to his chest. “Don’t do that again.”
His voice is low. Vulnerable. 
You blink, hands holding him back on the floor. 
“...The power went out,” you try to explain only half of it softly, muffled by his neck. 
He only holds you harder, eyes open and blankly staring at the floor a foot away.
Johnny MacTavish ➺
Johnny hums a song under his breath, hanging his keys on the hook near the door.
“Dearie!” He calls to you loudly, itching at the side of his head and chuckling. “Don’t run too fast to me now, I’m all yours for two w—”
The light switch is moved by his finger, but no light illuminates his path to the living room. Pausing in the entrance, the man’s brows furrow tightly, speech cutting off like scissors to paper. 
“...eeks?” Johnny ends his sentence, turning back around to look at the switch in confusion. “The hell’s going on with that?” He mutters to himself, a frown growing on his face before he refocuses on his mission to find you—now with the added task of figuring out why the power was out in the house. 
“Swear,” the man grumbles, huffing while he runs a hand over his face, “if those kids down the street did something I’ll be livid. Little devils, I swear.” 
Johnny steps farther into the living room, glancing around. 
“Dearie?” He pauses, listening before calling out your name. “Where’s she off to?”
He sighs softly, wanting to hold you now that he’s home to do so—squeeze you in his arms and take in your scent again; he’d missed you immensely while he was away.
Johnny came across your hand sticking out from behind the couch by accident, moving to make his way into your bedroom thinking that you were sleeping. He sees an odd shape in the blackness and pauses, feet slowing to a stop. 
When he notices that it’s a hand—your hand, he doesn’t even realize that he’s completely gripped the side of the couch and wrenched it back until the scratch of the wood floors screams in his ears. 
You wake up to hands on your cheeks, sharp yelling, and your head being shaken up and down until you’re conscious. 
“Dearie, hey! What the fuck,” the last sentence is growled on fast lips. “What the fuck.”
Your hands slap to Johnny’s wrists, nails digging in. 
He breathes out quickly, looking into your eyes to look for dilation as the darkness forces him closer. “There we are, tell me where you’re hurting, now, yeah? Did you hit your head? Let me take a look. It’s okay, I’ll get you all fixed up, there’s no need to worry.”
“Hey!” Your hands push at his, trying to shove the brick wall away from you. “Quit it! Johnny! I’m fine! ”
The man pauses at your animated movements, blinking rapidly before his grip loosens. 
When it’s obvious that you’re perfectly fine, he moves back and groans, thumb and forefinger digging into his nose bridge. 
“Hell’s bells, Hen.” You glare, panting on the floor before you push yourself up. 
“‘Hell’s bells’, me?” Johnny’s head plops to your shoulder. “You just shook me like a fucking rabbit!” 
“Scared the shite out of me, you terror.” The man huffs. “Need to put a heart monitor on you.”
“Piss off,” you sigh, putting a hand to your chest to feel the pace of your pulse and the blood that runs furiously.
Johnny, moments later as he’s still resting on your shoulder, starts…laughing. Low at first, then gaining noise the more it goes unchecked—a deep rumble into chest-jerking amusement. You look down at him, the couch tilted and long scratches over the floor. Pausing, you blink at his shaking shadow before your lungs start quivering. The two of you bend over one another with shared, house-shaking laughter. 
“What the fuck were you doin’ behind the damn couch?” Johnny grabs you close, kissing along your neck as he picks you up, dragging you to your feet. 
“The power went out!” You giggle, chest hurting from the fast gasps of breath as more kisses are spread over your skin. “It was colder down there and I didn’t want to open one of the windows because I knew you’d throw a pouting match about it.”
“Christ, Dearie.” Lips meet your own. “I had half the mind to think you had a heart attack. Nearly gave me one.”
Kyle Garrick ➺
Kyle sighs as he rubs at his jaw, itching the skin and slipping out of his jacket. 
“I’m home, Love!” He says, his voice echoing over the flat. “Want me to start on supper or have you eaten yet?” The man smiles, taking off his cap and putting it on the coat rack, sighing softly. 
It was good to be back. 
Bending down to unlace his boots, he pulls at them until they’re loose enough to slip out of, thumping to their sides on the rug until he reaches out and fixes them. 
“What’s that, then?” He calls into the darkness, not hearing your answer as he quickly checks the time on his phone. “Fuck, it’s late,” Kyle utters to himself. 
Walking into the kitchen, he touches the light switch only to be met with nothing. Pausing, the man’s face pulls in—fingers twitching at his sides as he glances at the window and the moonlight that seeps in to glare along the floor. 
A deep frown takes hold of him, and he looks around once more before backing up.
“...Love?” Kyle wasn’t too concerned—the building wasn’t always the best, and power outages weren’t unheard of. But, damn, if the high of getting off of a deployment didn’t put him in a negative head-space when it came to a change in routine involving you. 
Why weren’t you answering him?
Walking slightly faster into the living room, his hand nearly reaches into his pocket to call your phone if you didn’t end up in any of the rooms—pulse beginning to be infected with a steady injection of adrenaline. 
Brown eyes find your hand behind the couch when they’re about to shift to the open door of your bedroom. A sharp gasp is inhaled instantaneously. 
Kyle races over, grappling to it and pressing his fingers to your neck for a pulse. You softly breathe, none the wiser as you lightly shift and sigh in your sleep; a delicate hum moving out as familiar fingers dig into you. 
It’s through his panic that a thought quickly cuts through the man’s mind. You’d mentioned this before. 
Kyle pauses, just about to loudly wake you. 
‘It gets hot when the power goes out, Kyle, I swear one of these days I’m going to just fall asleep on the floor. At least it’s cool down there.’
Well, the power was out, and, it seemed, you really had fallen asleep on the floor. Now that he thought about it, the flat was running hot—and he also knew that you knew he had gotten nervous of late when you left the windows open at night. 
“Bloody hell,” the man releases a long breath, free hand moving to grip the back of his head. A few seconds later, Kyle chuckles to himself, shaking his head with a small smile. “You are losing it, Mate. Losing it.” 
Without another word, he grips you, and with a grunt, picks you up and takes you to bed, setting you down on the pillows and making sure to leave the sheets off of you so you don’t grow uncomfortable.
A kiss is pressed to your forehead, and you hum in slumber, smiling unconsciously.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, Love.” 
He leaves to go make a quick supper of cereal and milk.
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klaart · 7 months
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The gangs all here👍
Edit:// hurt no comfort :)
Edit2: I lied part 2 is posted‼️
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In case anyone needed this reminder:
Your fav COD man does not get off on your pain during sex. Ever.
So much of male-dominated language involving sex glorifies a woman's pain for his pleasure. She's expected to "just take it".
Your fav COD guy does not want that when he's with you. And if you've come to think of it as normal - because of previous experiences, because that's what everyone tells you, because you don't want to make a fuss and disappoint him, whatever the reason - he'll put a stop to it and have a serious talk with you about it.
These men have seen and experienced horrible shit in their lives.
You are their safe space. Their home. The one person they feel like they can be truly vulnerable with in a world that has made them battle-rough with scars, misery, and grief.
They want you to stay soft with them. They want you to have the safety of completely pure pleasure. They never ever want you to force or endure anything, let alone for their sake.
If it's a kink you're into, that's a different story.
But if you're not into it, your fav won't go anywhere near it. They won't pressure you to "just try it, maybe you'll like it". It's completely off the table, never to be mentioned again, and they'll be sure to lavish you in all the things you really love to show that you can relax with them.
Just as you have allowed them to lower their guard and let down their walls, they will do the same for you. When you are with them, you are safe in every sense of the word.
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milkydough · 1 year
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Alex likes Farah
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gomzdrawfr · 13 days
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Retired life
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journen · 9 days
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Tired Soap.
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sleepyconfusedpotato · 9 months
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So Graves is Alive... 🪦💀
Alejandro and Rudy wasted no time at all to make Graves' second life a living hell. He might do a cool trick though who knows!
Alejandro and Rudy should've been the ones we play on that tank mission not Soap I will die on this hill ‼️‼️
Inspired by @numberonegiverwitch 's meme!
Hope you love this lil comic! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)
Tag yourself I'm Rudy
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brewed-pangolin · 3 months
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Imagine what a menace Soap would be with these
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Challenged Territory
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Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x Fem Reader
18+ MDNI Explicit Smut, P in V, Soap getting all territorial over silly bruises, cue the Scottish bear
Synopsis: You play a round of rapid fire which ends with a quick session. But those bruises forming ignite the primal side of Soap and he takes it upon himself to mark you as his own
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Okay. Call me crazy but I'm for damn sure Soap MacTavish puts play dates down on the calendar.
Just like date nights, movie nights, and camping weekends. Play dates are a must to keep the relationship fresh and full of vigor, especially when he's gone for extended periods of time.
And these little blasters are right up his alley.
But he'd want a fair fight, so expect to be taken to the range a few times to perfect that aim and steady your hand.
Once he's satisfied with your skill level, all hell breaks lose and he ain't holding back.
Your only indication that he's put the game into play will be your blaster on your bedside table. With him already staking out his perfect sniping position as you mentally prepare for the fire fight about to ensue.
And it always ends the same way. Both naked, breathless, and entangled on the living room floor as you tally up who got the most shots to the ass.
And those circular bruises growing on your flesh are nothing compared to the reddened handprint plastered on your left butt cheek.
--
"You can't count-, those slaps-, as hits, Soap," you muttered. A groggy whimper echoing off your tongue.
"Haud yer wheesht, lass. Beat ya by a solid 20. Easily"
"Pfft. 20's pushing it, trigger man."
"Doubt it. Cannae miss hittin' tha sweet ass a'yers."
You shoved your elbow into the center of his chest with a boisterous laugh, forcing a rumbling groan from his throat as he turned you onto your back and caged you beneath his muscular and gel tattered form.
"Ya wanna go 'nother round?" He asked with an excited growl. Eyes brimming in cerulean conquest as a curling smile formed on his kiss ravaged lips.
"Why? You clearly already beat me."
"Wasn't talkin' bout the game, bonnie," he purred lowly. His Scottish brogue thick as molasses as he pressed the bulbous tip of his cock against your wet and silken entrance.
"Feelin' a bit outdone by yer bruises. Need ta add some a'me own. Gotta-," he halted with a groan. Voice catching in his throat as he pushed between your folds and gradually pumped his hardened length into the welcoming walls of your cunt.
You rolled your eyes with a muffled moan, arching your back off the floor to assist in his entry as he glacially thrusted himself until fully seated.
"Johnny," you whimpered. Mouth open with a silent moan as your greedy walls clenched around him.
"I know, bonnie. Yer always so fuckin' tight fer me, aren't ya?" He growled as he encapsulated his mouth over your lips.
Devouring your moans before pulling away. Grabbing tightly at the flesh of your hips as he flared his chest and moved to sit on his haunches.
"Gonnae fuckin' wreck ya, lass."
The bellow that echoed in his brogue sent a spiraling shiver down your spine. Causing you to pulse around him as he hoisted your legs up and rest over his shoulders.
Clawing your nails along the floor for purchase as he pistoned his hips against your ass in a primal and aggressive thrust.
"Johnny!" You wailed, followed by a breathless gasp. Chest heaving, breasts bouncing as your body undulated with the waves of inertia from his forceful drives.
"Tha's it. Gonnae mark ya. Make ya mine. Make ya scream fer me."
Your body went into overdrive as he continually pistoned his cock into your aching cunt. Mind going nearly blank except for one thought that rolled around behind your eyes.
Soap saw those circular marks as a challenge, even if they were done so by his own hand. His need to mark you, claim you as his own pushed him into his primal state as he gripped with measured force into the supple flesh of your thighs.
And you loved it. The growls emanating from the caverns of his chest. The crazed yet loving glare in his eyes as he marked his territory with every throbbing plunge of his cock.
You'd carry those bruises with pride the next morning as you gazed at your figure in the mirror. The only change you'd make is the location. The bruises you loved. The rug burn, not so much.
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Drabbles Masterlist
@deadbranch @sofasoap @punishmepunisher @d3athtr4psworld @glitterypirateduck @astraluminaaa @shotmrmiller @jynxmirage @obligatoryghoststare @mykneeshurt @simpingoverquestionablemen @thetrashpossum @ghosts-goldendoodle @designateddeadend @foxface013 @queen-ilmaree @haurasha @havoc973 @luismickydees @kkaaaagt
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bluegiragi · 1 year
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konig: why was that attractive
support me on patreon (nsfw)
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4me2knowandyou2wonder · 8 months
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A thought popped into my head and now you all have to suffer with me <3
What if, Ghost is a bad kisser. I doubt he’s had much opportunity to practice. From a home where all his energy was focused on staying safe, straight into the military where he wasn’t interested in pursuing anyone. By the time he has his real first kiss it’s late in life, and a big bulky guy like that? You just know the kiss was stiff and stilted. I bet his first kiss out right tells him it was awful.
So Ghost doesn’t know how to kiss.
When he and Johnny finally get together the confession happens though a mask. Soap, being respectful, kisses him through the mask. And for about a week that’s how they share all their kisses.
Soap thinks it’s just a boundary for Ghost. Ghost really wants to kiss Soap normally and not through the mask but knows he’s a terrible kisser and doesn’t want to scare Johnny off.
When the truth does finally come out Soap all but cackles. ‘You mean I get to teach you how to kiss?’ ‘I only see this as a golden opportunity, L.T.’
Later
‘Oh, yeah, we’re going to have to practice (pregnant pause) a lot.’ (Waggles eyebrows)
Not sure if Ghost ever gets better at kissing, being a terrible kisser might just be set into his bones by now. but Soap doesn’t seem to mind at least.
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molotovmetro · 1 year
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The 141 + König with a s/o who goes non-verbal
Tiny disclaimer: im autistic and have moments of being non verbal during breakdowns etc, so this is based mostly off of my own experience, but if anyone feels like ive said inaccurate or offensive things, please let me know as that would never be my intention. The way I've written this suggests this is a negative feeling (, since thats how i experience it) but I understand that might not be the same for everyone. For some people this might just be a daily or
Requested by @apocalypticseagull
Warnings: mentions of stress and the slightest hint at possible injury, besides that nothing I can think of
M!reader
Ghost
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Ghost relates to you. While he wouldn't claim his experience is the same, he gets moments of overstimulation where he wants everyone to leave him alone, and will just stop reacting to people.
When he feels like this, he prefers to sit in his room, either completely in the dark or with only a small lamp on, and have as little noise around him as possible.
If you're in a stress situation, not knowing what else to do to help you, that's what he'll resort to.
He'll take you into either his room or yours, whichever you would prefer, and holds you while letting you get away from all the triggers for a bit. Unless you're dealing with life or death situations, whatever work you have left for the day can wait. Your wellbeing always comes first.
Soap
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Soap is a lot more observant than people give him credit for. He's the king of avoiding stressful situations for you whenever he can.
But alas, he can't avoid it every time. Whether you start saying less and less as the minutes go on, or just stop talking suddenly, he notices immediately.
Not that he'd be quick to admit it, but he's got a written list of everything you like, even if it's just something you mentioned in passing. He absutely will use this list to do whatever he can to make you smile and relieve some of your stress.
He'll make sure to find a way to still communicate that both of you are comfortable with. He'll happily lend you his journal to write in, or he'll ask Roach for some lessons in sign language. He'd break his back bending over backwards to make you comfortable if he had to.
Gaz
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No matter how often it happens, Gaz still feels a jolt of panic whenever you don't respond over coms when you're on a mission. He almost sags in relief as soon as he hears you hum, or even just hears the crackly static of you pushing your radio's button.
He knows you're a talented soldier and you're more than capable of handling yourself, he still prefers to be near you at all times. What if something happens and you can't tell him? You could be in trouble without him even knowing. He'll, just knowing you're stressed is making him want to reach for you.
He likes his job, likes helping people and ridding the world of danger, but his favourite part of every mission is when you're sitting in the exfil helo after a good mission, and you give him that wide smile he's been waiting hours, if not days to see.
Price
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You and Price have been working together for so long, you both know the drill. When he starts to notice you going quiet, he makes sure he only asks yes or no questions. On your side; one click of your radio button for no, two for yes. Throw in some improvised morse code when necessary, and you've got a solid communications system.
Having this system is also a huge bonus during stealth missions, when he can't talk freely without risking being spotted.
He loves hearing your voice, but he doesn't treat you any differently when you can't talk. He'll support you in whatever way you need, without making it feel like he's babying you.
The two of you are a well oiled machine. No matter how stressful the situation, usually you can tell what the other one is thinking just by looking at them. You know you both have each other's back, verbal communication or not.
König
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König doesn't mean to make a big deal out of it, and he won't if you don't, but he does worry.
After a situation like that happens once, he commits everything that helps you to his memory, and uses the knowledge to help you the next time it happens.
Even down to the tiniest detail, he'll remember. If you don't like a certain texture or can only stand a certain flavour of drink during moments like this, he's making sure you have everything you need and are as comfortable as possible. Whatever is stressing you will be dealt with by him while you're resting and calming down.
If you want to be alone, he understands and respects that, and gives you the space you need. But if you don't, there's nowhere he'd rather be than by your side.
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wispscribbles · 7 months
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Your art style is just so delicious!!! It’s got such low key Ghibli vibes, especially in the eyes, and your color control is fantastic. You’re amazing, keep rockin it! ✨
aw yay, Ghibli vibes!! I grew up on those movies, they've definitely inspired me to create. Thank you sm <3
wanted to draw some small ghibli ghoap after getting this ask. 'Ghost's moving castle'
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milkydough · 1 year
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Happy Birthday.
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ohgeesoap · 7 months
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Soap's journal entries concerning dogs. Typed out under the cut in case they're difficult to read.
Consider me a cat man now.
We overcame ultranationalists, chopper crashes, danger close with gunships, but a goddamn dog is what'll get me into an infirmary? Rabies, ridiculous. What a waste of time. Obviously can't tell Price or Gaz. Nikolai seems capable of keeping a secret. Probably keeps vials of vaccine vaulted with manifest intel, secretive bastard.
--
And no, I haven't exactly been on my booster shots. Think Nikolai said every two years but didn't think I'd be back in Russia so bloody soon. So yeah, was happy to follow Price and Roach over the net. Not just because it meant I was far from the mutts, but because I got to listen to the two of them working together like we once did. There was the same option: take out the target or let them him pass. Nice to hear Price taking Roach under his wing. Know the effect it can have.
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