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x1a0ch0u · 11 months

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Couch Fun

A/N: Hello, my 🍓Little Strawberries🍓! This is day one of Kinktober. Couldn't come up with a better title.

Day 1: Degradation & Leg Grinding

Pairing: Karl Heisenberg x male reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 860

Summary: you were just sitting on Karl's lap more specifically, his leg. And then things took a turn

DISCLAIMER: I never played or watched any gameplay of the resident evil series. So, don't be upset if something is wrong.

Thank You!: Credit goes to @softboy5393 for the plot.

I hope you enjoy this! Sorry if it's bad! And sorry for any errors that are found! I don't think I did the degradation right...

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Tags: @softboy5393

It was just a lazy day today. You were sitting on your boyfriend's lap, the one and only, Lord Karl Heisenberg. Yes, you were dating one of the four lords of the region.

He was just sitting down half-naked with his muscles and abs showing off. You had his shirt on, it was big on you, and you weren't wearing any pants only boxers.

You had one of your arms wrapped around his neck with his left arm wrapped around your waist. Your hands were roaming his chest, his grip on you began to tighten.

Then, Karl began to bounce his leg up and down. You were sitting on his lap but more specifically his leg. And this accidentally caused you to have a boner. 'Not now!' You yelled in your mind.

But he kept doing it, he was unaware that you were getting hard from him tapping his leg. He was stuck in his own little world. You began to grind against his leg, hoping he wouldn't notice.

Karl felt something hard moving against his thigh and looked to see you grinding your boner against his leg. He could hear you breathing hard and see your face all fluster.

"You're getting hard from me tapping my leg? Pathetic, little slut." Karl said into your ear with his deep voice that sent shivers down your spine.

You whimpered, tightening your arm around him. "How about removing those boxers? Show me that pathetic hard cock. Mmm, you know what? I'll remove them."

Before you knew it, Karl ripped your boxers off. You could feel his hand grope and squeeze your plump ass. "Maybe later, I'll get to pound this tight ass. Feel your ass clench around me." he kept saying in your ear.

You then felt a stinging pain on your ass. "Keep grinding, you fucking slut." You grind more against his leg. Pre-cum was leaking out of your cock and onto his leg.

"Look at you baby. Look how you’re cock is drooling on my leg, making it nice and slick." the air was getting thick around. More pre-cum was leaking out onto his leg as your grind faster.

"You want my fat cock tearing open your slutty hole? Want to be filled with hot cum. My cock is so hard right from watching my little whore grinding on my leg." Karl said just talking dirty. Which you liked very much.

Sure enough, when you looked at his crotch. A large bulge was there being held captive by his pants. There was also a wet spot forming as well.

"You make so fucking hard, I just wanna take you right here. Mmm, I think I have another idea." Karl said before removing his pants and underwear.

His nice meaty cock sprang free from its restriction. "How about you use those slutty little hands and pleasure daddy?" Karl smirked with his cock standing hard and raging red.

You looked at his raging boner. Pre-cum was oozing from the tip, veins were popping out, and its was twitching waiting to be touched. "Keep grinding those while you give me a handjob."

You hesitantly grabbed his meaty cock. It felt heavy and the heat was radiating off of it. You traced your fingertip across the large vein that leads up to his tip.

You felt him grip your ass tighter. "Stop teasing," Karl growled. You whimpered. You began to jerk him while still grinding on his leg. His pre-cum was getting all over your hand as you jerked him off. "Fuck, work that cock you fucking whore."

Karl threw his head back, his chest moving up and down. "After we're done, I'm gonna wreck this tight boy pussy of yours. Turn you into my cumslut. That's your only reason in this world, to be my cumdump."

You moaned, rubbing yourself more against him. You could feel your end coming and Karl's cock was twitching meaning he was close too.

"Fuck, I'm close." you jerked him off harder and grind against him harder. "F-fuck... I'M CUMMING!" Karl threw his head back and thrust his crotch into your hand.

Karl exploded all over your hand and some got onto his stomach. You came all over his leg. You collapsed onto his chest. "Don't think this is over. We're going for round 2," Karl whispered into your ear before lifting you up and carrying you to his room.

THE END

A/N: That was day one of kinktober. Be ready for the second day tomorrow! Bye, my 🍓Little Strawberries🍓!

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x1a0ch0u · 1 year

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someone could like write smth about wesker... or about goda or daigo... or... you know... p much anyone... just make it x male reader..

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x1a0ch0u · 1 year

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Gentle Giant + cat horgani

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x1a0ch0u · 1 year

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hi i hope you're doing well <33

I have had a very kinky thought with Konig and haven't seen anyone do it so I figured I'd request it

Reader is an excellent sniper , Konig asks him to help train him to be a better sniper. Reader agrees and while helping Konig practice , he starts teasing him and telling him to keep focusing on hitting the targets - after Konig hits all the targets reader gives him a reward for being such good boy and ofc the reward is getting railed til Konig is a moaning mess

helping hand

Pairing: König x Male Reader Summary: König comes to you for some help - and you're more than happy to. Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only. Top!Male reader, teasing, handjobs, fucking outside, unprotected anal, creampie.

Your breath in his ear sends goosebumps rippling across his skin. “I thought you wanted my help König?”

He quickly nods, a whine bubbling in the back of his throat. “I do-”

“You don’t seem to be taking it very seriously.” You interrupt, a hand trailing down the curve of his spine. Under the weight of your hand you feel him fidget, trying to stop himself from grinding his hips into the ground for any sort of relief. “You need to focus.”

“I can’t,” he cries, cock throbbing painfully within the confines of his pants. Every little one of your touches sent a new wave of arousal coursing through his body, his mind ready to give up and submit to you. “You’re too distracting,” he whines.

Ever since he had met you in the makeshift training area you had been teasing him; standing too close, talking in his ear, your hands all over his body as you manoeuvred him into different sniping positions, all while König steadily got harder and harder and became more and more distracted, barely able to focus on why you were here in the first place.

“You need to be able to focus even with distractions all around you,” you begin, capturing his attention once more. “How about this? You manage to hit the rest of the targets and I’ll give you a reward.”

“What kind of reward?” He asks pointlessly, he’s already sure he knows what will happen, or at least what he wants to happen.

Tutting you shift up onto your knees, König turning his head to watch you. “Well we can’t ruin the surprise now can we?” You wink, and he’s thankful for the hood covering his head so you can’t see the crimson blush creep up on his cheeks. “Now, three targets left.”

It takes a few seconds for his brain to catch up, and he quickly adjusts his focus back through the scope of the sniper rifle, scanning the area to try and find the targets. He soon finds one, hitting it dead on with no issues.

Hearing the pleased hum come from you he tries to ignore it, but he can’t contain his reaction as his body jumps when your hand falls onto the arch of his back, fingers skimming across the fabric of his shirt. “Focus,” you scold, and he fights his body wanting to arch into the touch.

Pushing out a deep breath he starts again, searching for another target. Your hand stills as you wait, and the heat coming from your palm even through his shirt feels like torture. You can feel when he finds another one, his back just tensing and relaxing ever so slightly, and once he’s in position he quickly lets off another shot, hitting the target perfectly. “Good,” you praise, hand drifting lower to follow his spine, stopping halfway down. “One more.”

König’s breathing is harsher now, fighting to control every breath as he tries to find the last target. Excitement races through his veins when he does. He forces himself to be calm, trying to ignore your presence near him and fires, sighing with relief when he hits the final one.

Moving your hand lower you start to play with the waistband of his pants, fingertips dipping under the fabric intermittently. “There you go, knew you could do it,” you purr, König preening under your praise. “Now about that reward-”

König groans, cutting off your train of speech. “Please, stop teasing me.”

You take your fingers away, chuckling as pushes his hips up to follow the movement. “Oh? What do you want me to do?”

His cock throbs, leaking with excitement. “Fuck me,” he mumbles, tucking his face into the inside of his elbow.

Although you heard him perfectly you decide to tease him further, placing both hands on his hips, encouraging him to move until he’s resting on his arms and knees, back arched perfectly, ass in the air in front of you. “What was that?”

“Fuck me,” he tries again, louder this time.

Shuffling forward you stop just before your thighs hit the back of his legs, hands tightening on his hips to bring him backwards the rest of the way. He goes willingly, groaning when he feels the large bulge in your pants against his clothed ass, and unashamedly he rubs against you, a pleased rumble leaving your chest.

One of your hands snakes from his hip around his waist, fingers barely ghosting the outline of cock as you go for his zipper instead, slowly bringing it down until the shape of his cock is spilling out from the opening. As swiftly as you can you pull his pants and boxers down in one swoop, König hissing as his cock twitches in the open air.

He grunts when you wrap a hand around his hardened cock, sliding your palm over the head to gather the precum dripping there and slathering his cock as you begin to stroke up and down, your other hand kneading the flesh of his ass cheek. As soon as he starts trying to fuck into your hand you stop, removing your hand and planting it on his other cheek, pulling them apart so you can see his twitching hole.

“Would you look at that?” you coo, thumb brushing against his rim. “Looks like your hole is begging to be filled.” König whines, his body aching for any sort of stimulation. Gathering up as much spit as you can he gasps when he feels it hit his hole, your thumb quickly spreading the moisture, teasing his entrance.

Slowly you fight against the resistance, his hole gradually opening up to your thumb as you push it deeper, and only when it easily slides in and out do you add another finger, König beginning to rock back against them as you scissor the digits. Your mouth is dry by the time you can fit three fingers, making sure he’s fully prepared for you, your own cock desperate to be inside him.

Withdrawing your fingers you slide your zipper down, pulling out your cock to rest it in the crevice of his cheeks, König able to feel the heat emanating from your dick. Taking what little moisture is left from your mouth you spit into your hand and slick up your own cock before you press the head against his hole, giving him slow, gentle thrusts as you enter him inch by inch, pushing in and pulling out until he opens up around you.

When you’re finally fully seated inside him you stop your movements, relishing in the heat as he clenches around you, König mewling with impatience as you do nothing other than stroke the skin of his hip. Eventually, he pulls himself away and pushes back onto you, a pleasured moan escaping both of you. “Please move,” he begs.

Slowly you draw all the way out, tip catching on his rim before you slam forward, a harsh slap of skin against skin as your thighs smack against him, König letting out a choked groan. Taking little time to set a harsh pace he’s soon lost in ecstasy, arms barely holding him up as you use him like a toy, grunts and moans escaping into the air.

Fucking into him you search out that sweet spot, the tip of your cock punching in deeper and deeper until on one thrust he wails, body trembling and cock pulsing as he sprays his release across the ground, streaks of white staining the soil underneath him.

You don’t stop, chasing your own orgasm as you continue your thrusts, one arm wrapping around König to wrench him up and hold him to your chest, your free hand gripping his cock, jerking him off as he cries from the stimulation. “Bitte, wait.” With the new angle you thrust in deeper, his hole clenching and pulsing around you, driving you closer and closer to the apex.

“Just a little bit more, I’m close,” you groan, rapidly thrusting into his hole, cock bullying against his prostate. “Where do you want it?”

“I-inside,” he hiccups, one of his arms ensnaring your neck to hold you close as the other rests on the one jerking his cock.

It takes just a few more thrusts to come undone, a hoarse snarl tearing from your throat as you unload inside König, your cock shooting rope after rope into his hole as it milks you for everything you have. The feeling of you cumming inside pushes König into another orgasm, a smaller spurt of cum erupting from his cock and joining his previous load on the floor. Your hips give small, shaky thrusts as you fill him up, a ring of white forming around his rim as your cum starts leaking out and back down along your cock.

Time is lost as you both stay like that, holding each other close, trying to swallow down oxygen as pleasure bursts through your veins. Once your senses rush back to you, you gently lower König to rest on his arms, the man unable to remain sitting up, and slowly pull out, cum immediately seeping from his hole and you quickly tuck yourself away at the risk of becoming hard again as you fight to tear your eyes away.

König takes longer to recover, only doing so when you finally speak up. “König?” He barely hums in acknowledgement. “You have to get up, big guy.” He grunts, mind still hazy with pleasure. There’s not much you can do about the current mess of his hole so you pull his underwear and pants back up over his ass, tucking his cock back in and adjusting them so they look as normal as possible.

“I don’t think I can move,” he grumbles, and you bite back the bark of laughter threatening to erupt.

“Here,” you offer, moving to his front and offering your hands to help him up. He takes them, relying on you to drag him up and without asking, you place a supportive arm around his waist, tucking him into your side as you walk back together. The walk is uncomfortable, cum oozing out of his hole with every step, something he makes known.

“I need a shower,” he states, gait becoming awkward as he tries to find the walk most comfortable.

You hum in agreement, arm tightening around his waist. “How about I help clean you up?”

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x1a0ch0u · 1 year

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What should I do for spring break

Your best

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x1a0ch0u · 1 year

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Hypothermia & Bad Habits | John "Soap" MacTavish x Male Reader | Angst/Fluff

Fem/Minors DNI

Warnings; Violence, somewhat detailed hypothermia side effects, loss of consciousness, mentioned smoking, injury

A/N; I don't think that this is angsty, but I guess it might be?? idk, you tell me. Also, the injuries MC sustains is not mentioned again only because I fucking forgot 💀

MC's codename is Lynx, based off the animal. I had the Siberian Lynx in mind.

2k words (about)

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It was well below freezing, even colder because of the windy night, and Y/N could feel it even through his thick clothing. Not even his wool socks aided in his suffering. His hands were so cold that they felt hot, being bare to hold his Bambetov SV.

He was lying on his stomach on the outskirts of the forest that shielded the desolate base, patiently waiting for the target he was required to shoot before the rest of task force 141 could proceed, but it was becoming draining. Snow was quickly piling up over him, sticking to his eyelashes and decorating his gun.

141 was nearby, ready to push inside when they heard the boom of Y/N’s gun, but he didn’t know their coordinates, and he couldn’t remember where he started. His head was foggy and his legs were numb and his shoulders shook slightly, his breathing becoming uneven as the minutes passed. How long had he been out there? Maybe an hour.

“Lynx, how copy?” Ghost’s voice spoke through his walkie. It was muffled from being sandwiched between Y/N’s chest and the thick layer of powder beneath him. He moved his hand carefully to disturb as little of the pristine white and grabbed the speaker, pressing a button on the side and opening his mouth. His teeth started clattering immediately.

“Feckin’ f-freezin,” He said quietly, his hand returning to its previous position. He took a couple of shallow breaths and closed his eyes. When he opened them everything was blurry. "I need a cigarette.”

“Have you seen him yet?” Ghost asked, ignoring Y/N's complaints. Y/N scrunched his eyebrows together and squeezed his eyes shut tight before opening them, his vision clearing slightly.

“Uh, no, not yet. Hopefully soon,” He said in a hushed tone. “I’m having trouble-” Y/N stopped abruptly as the door opened, a tall, broad man in a thick fur coat and an ushanka stepping out into the cold night. Y/N watched him pull a box of cigarettes from his pocket and put one in his mouth.

“What?” Ghost said, shuffling on the other end of the line. Y/N shushed him and aimed, closing one eye and leaning into the scope, slowly angling it so the crosshair was over the man’s face. He eyed him as he flicked open his lighter and leaned into it, getting a good shot of his temple and pulling the trigger when he looked back up. The bullet went straight through his left eye and into his skull. The wall splattered with blood, snow soon turning red when he collapsed into the crystal ice, staining its beauty. The forest echoed from the sound, Y/N cocking the rifle again and pointing to the door, waiting for his soldiers to run out the door with their guns.

“Got him,” Y/N said, shooting the first man to run out the door in between his collarbone and Adam's apple. He heard ghost say something, but it rang on deaf ears as he cocked it again and shot a shorter man who was frantically looking around. He caught a glimpse of Gaz sneaking through a side door, but he was paying more attention to the man pointing a pistol at him. They shot at the same time, Y/N getting him in the chest and the Russian sending it into his shoulder. Y/N grunted but cocked it again, his second shot hitting the middle of his forehead.

He could hear the team sharing information as they searched the building for the documents, taking out whoever they had to on the way, but Y/N could barely understand anything, only catching random words that didn’t make sense to him. He didn’t even register the second shot from an AKU-12 that pierced his shoulder. It felt like a bee sting. He shot the last one outside. The rest must be inside trying to take care of the team.

Letting his head hang forward, burying it in the snow that continued to fall, covering him further. He was finally starting to feel warm. The snow on him was bleeding, and the front of the building was just as bad if not worse. It looked like a massacre; a disgusting mess of red amidst the beauty of snow, of serenity. He lost consciousness at that moment, waking up about 15 minutes later. Soap was shouting over the walkie, Y/N catching bits and pieces after hearing his codename.

“Y/N, how copy? Where are… something…”

Y/N grunted and slurred something that was a jumble of “snow,” “cold,” and “outside.”

“What? Repeat… clearly…”

Y/N huffed in response. In his foggy mind, he had assumed that he was making fun of his accent again.

“Gobshite,” He muttered.

Soap scoffed and asked him another question, but Y/N was gone again, face-first into the snow. When he came around next, someone was hauling him up and wrapping their arm around him, another person taking his right side. Y/N’s feet dragged behind him as he was brought to the heli and lifted on, losing consciousness again.

The prying open of one eye had him groaning, a bright light shining into it. He grabbed the person's wrist and squeezed. They exclaimed at his freezing hands and called out an order that he didn’t understand. Something about hot water.

Someone stripped him of his pants and jacket, removing his linens before being wrapped in a blanket.

The next thing he felt was someone crawling into the blanket with him and feeling their skin on his, him elbowing them and lurching away. The person grunted in pain. They felt burning hot. They were burning Y/N's skin with their own. He grumbled as he was pulled in again but quickly sank into the warmth.

Y/N woke up feeling like a corpse. He was exhausted and his skin was tingling, fingers twitching slightly. His attempt to sit up was pitiful, a pained moan leaving his throat when his head hit the pillow under him.

“Easy there, Lynx,” A woman said from somewhere in the room. She walked over to him with a cup and set it on the table next to him, putting a hand under his back and helping him sit up, a blanket being wrapped around him. “You had it pretty rough out there.” He looked at her as she grabbed a small flashlight and checked his eyes. She took the stethoscope from around her neck and plugged it into her ears, taking the flat end and pressing it to his chest. “Deep breath for me.”

He took a few deep breaths as she moved it to various spots on his chest and back, stopping once she deems it enough and taking his arm, holding the stethoscope to his forearm.

“You sound good. Your eyes are less dilated and your breathing is steady,” She stated, picking up the mug she had placed on the table and giving it to Y/N. He held it in both of his hands and took a sip. Hot tea with a plethora of honey. It tasted of raspberry, strawberry, and flowers. He hummed when it went down his throat. “You scared the team pretty bad. Lucky that they got me on the phone. Meeting you at the heli was a sight to see.” Y/N looked at her questioningly as he took another sip.

“You were limp and naked, save for your boxers. You needed skin contact to warm up quicker,” She explained. “Soap was the same, he had volunteered. His teeth were chattering while he pulled on his pants, it was fantastic. I doubt Gaz will let that go,” She chuckled. Y/N could imagine the scene folding out, likely Price and Ghost helping him onto the truck while Gaz laughed at Soap hopping his pants on. A small smile crept onto his face. “You should probably get some rest. Finish that, and I’ll have one of the guys bring you dinner later.”

Y/N nodded and slumped forward as he sipped on the drink, hearing the door click as she left. His mind wandered as he stared mindlessly at the wall in front of him before finishing the cup and placing it to his side, shuffling under the blankets and covering his head. He was out like a light in an instant.

Soap gave Y/N a shove, holding a bowl of tomato soup in one hand. He grumbled and dug further into the comforter, grunting when Soap pulled the blanket off his head.

“Sit up Y/N, I’ve got your dinner,” He said. Y/N huffed and sat up, scooting back and leaning against the wall, keeping one of the wool blankets wrapped around his shoulders. He put his hands out to hold the bowl, Soap handing it to him and pulling up a chair to sit with him. “You gave us quite the scare.” Y/N hummed in response, not bothering with the spoon and bringing the bowl to his lips. “God, you eat like a pig,” Soap laughed, wincing when Y/N playfully slapped the side of his head.

Y/N returned to his soup, drinking it loudly. A bit ran from the corner of his mouth down his chin. Who could have guessed that hypothermia and passing out for almost an entire day would famish someone? Soap crossed his arms and leaned back as he examined Y/N. He had his colour back which made him relieved.

When he finally lowered the bowl from his lips it was empty. He licked his lips and placed the bowl on the table next to the empty mug and looked at Soap who laughed at him.

“You’ve got soup right about here,” He mocked, motioning to his own mouth. Y/N used the back of his hand to wipe it off and licked it off. “You’re disgusting,” Soap muttered, shaking his head.

“Trasna ort féin,” He grumbled. Soap looked at him with a sceptical face.

“What’d you just say?” He asked.

“Nothin,” He responded, wrapping his blanket around himself tighter. Soap nodded sarcastically. “Aye, I heard you hugged me naked, that true?”

Soap put his head in his hands, laughing while shaking his head. “Yeah, I suppose so. You were fucking freezing! And you hit me!” He laughed.

“Sorry,” Y/N mumbled half heartedly , closing his eyes for a moment.

“You really did scare us though.” Y/N opened them and turned to look at the brunette. He looked upset. “You scared me.”

“The weather changed suddenly, it was unexpected.”

“I don’t want to lose you, Y/N,” He said, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. Y/N frowned and reached out to grab Soap, pulling him in for a hug and wrapping his arms around him.

“Sorry, Johnny,” Y/N murmured, Johnny’s forehead resting on his shoulder as he took a shaky breath, sitting on the edge of the cot. Y/N patted his back a few times before pulling back and grabbing Johnny’s face in his hands, looking into his eyes. “I won’t scare you again.”

“Can you make that a promise?” He asked, one of his hands cupping Y/N’s

“No promises,” He said, grinning. Y/N leaned in and kissed him on the lips, Johnny reciprocating it instantly. His shock of Y/N sharing these feelings was outweighed by his lips. He had wanted this for so long. Y/N pulled away and pressed a kiss to his forehead and adjusted his hand placement to pepper kisses on his cheeks, eventually making his way back to Johnny’s lips and kissing him quickly. “Does that make up for it?”

"Yeah,"He whispered, nodding and leaning forward, burying his face in Y/N’s chest, the latter wrapping his arms around him and leaning back. Y/N decided that he likes this feeling more than cigarettes at that moment.

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x1a0ch0u · 1 year

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barking howling growling, wishin there was a second part godammit.

Oh Captain, My Captain (Captain John MacTavish x Male!Reader)

(Reader's call sign is Repear, because you reap souls on the battlefield. Like a second version of Ghost, just without all the trauma)

You weren’t sure about whatever the fuck you were feeling. It was frustrating at this point, being unsure about what took place in your heart. It didn’t matter either way, you couldn’t afford to feel like this, not in your line of work… not now.

Roach asks about it, after we were finished with a training session. His hands are quick with signing the question, you can tell he’s concerned that way. ‘You’re off, slow too. Distracted. What’s going on?’ You dismiss him with a wave of your hand, also too busy drinking a shit Ton of water. ‘No- tell me, Reaper. As your closest friend and bunkmate, I deserve to know.’

Your response is interrupted by several people entering the locker room. Instead of giving Roach a good reason, you sign to him: ‘later’ then head for showers. He throws his hands in the air, and sighs loudly then leaves the locker room.

But you don’t exactly know what to tell him. That’s the thing. You turn the water to the coldest setting, welcoming the freezing temperature with naught but a small gasp, then suddenly you’re used to it. Cold water helps you think- speaking of that, your train of thoughts finally returns to the station and you can think.

It’s all him. The terrible haircut on his head that only few can admit is actually not good- completely shaved on the sides, strong blue eyes that hold just as much authority as the rank that’s slapped onto his person, the accent that becomes stronger in different situations- whether they be mission related or not, then there’s the overly protective sentiment he holds over the people he finds dear- but won’t admit about.Who’re you talking about? The captain of course, Captain John “Soap” MacTavish, just known as ‘Captain’ to everyone but Ghost. (He can call the Captain ‘Soap’ if he wants to and get away with it. Just like how you can call Roach ‘Gary’ and he can call you by your name- sometimes.) He’s the reason for these feelings that you don’t want to talk about, because you can get into a lot of trouble for having feelings for your superior.

Your shower is done in the next five minutes- not thinking about your captain. You reach for the towel that’s yours and dry yourself before wrapping it around your waist. You don’t pay much attention to what’s in front of you, because you bump into something- or someone. “Ah- sorry ‘bout that, Captain.”

Captain MacTavish waves a hand in the air. “Yer fine, Reaper.” He’s fresh from the shower too, but his looked like it was steaming hot due to the state of red over his tanned skin. “Say, about yer performance today. Seemed a bit off.” He turns his back a little as he gets dressed, you do the same- not turning back to look at him as you give a response.

“Dunno ‘bout it, sir. Just been one of those weeks, know what I mean?” Like you’d ever give the real reason as to why you’ve been off. You’re quick to shrug on your clothing, shoving every bit of toiletries into your locker. “I’ll get better sir, think it’ll fade soon.”

The Captain pauses from putting on his shirt, turning over to look up at you. His brows furrowed and his lips thin to a frown. You give him a raised brow in response. “If yer sure, sergeant. I’m, um… here to talk if you need it.”

You curtly nod. “Thanks, Captain.” You’re out of the locker room with your duffel bag before he can take note of your cheeks flaring up.

Roach is waiting with his legs crossed on your bed. You make a motion with his hands to get off, but all he does is scoot over to one of the ends and cross his arms. ‘So? Going to tell me what’s going on?’ You barely miss what he signs as you’re putting your bag down on your side of the room, under the bed.

“Do I have to, Gary? Honestly, it’s not your business,” you complain to him. He lifts an eyebrow at you. “You want to know every detail? Could cost you your hearing, bug.” The raised eyebrow narrows, because he fucking hates being called that. “It’s about the captain.”

‘Oh god- now I regret—“ You lower his hands from signing and hop on the bed beside him. Roach rolls his eyes and makes a motion with his hands, despite being lowered,

“You asked, I’m telling you.” You mimic his sitting and cross your legs. It’s like a teenage girl’s sleepover- you’re about to gossip about some boy you like. Except you’re not a teenager, or a girl- and he isn’t ‘some boy’, he’s a man… your captain. “Umm… I like the captain. Well- more than like, I’ve fallen in love with the man.”

Roach just stares. His mouth doesn’t fall open, his eyes don’t widen and he doesn’t back away in surprise. You let go of his hands so he can sign. ‘Are you joking? Please tell me you’re joking.’ You shake your head, now worried by your friend’s response. ‘Well thanks, because now I owe Ghost sixteen pounds.’

What. “The fuck do you mean you owe Ghost money?” You grab him by the collar of his shirt. “Did you know? Did you bet on me?!” Roach nods, smiling sheepishly, the scar on his lip wavering as he does so. “Oh my fucking God- you’re an arse. The lieutenant is an arse! I hate you both.”

‘Don’t let the lieutenant hear you say that,’ is Roach’s response. He’s laughing quietly because your love life, or lack thereof is amusing to him. Even if he just lost some money. ‘The captain doesn’t know, does he? Actually, probably not by the way you’re acting.’

“No, he doesn’t. And he fucking won’t know- understand? This is- what I’m feeling isn’t okay.” Roach frowns at your words, the laughter and smile disappearing in an instant. “He’s my superior, I can get into big trouble. Probably discharged. So, give your money to Ghost- then this is never brought up again, understand?”

He doesn’t bring it up again, neither do you.

Someone does bring it up, but it’s not Roach nor Ghost. It’s Gaz, when he meets you for the first time. He sees you constantly looking over at your captain- a bad habit, you’d call it, then calls you out on it. You nearly strangle him then and there, because Captain MacTavish is within hearing distance.

“Why do you look over at the Captain so much?” It’s the question he asks. Your shoulders involuntarily tense, and you decide to say nothing. Your mistake. “Ah, unrequited love?”

Dramatically, you shouldn’t have really, you slam your tea cup on the counter. A few people glance over, including the captain. Instead of angrily telling off Gaz, you inhale and exhale silently- calm down… “Not your business.”

He drops it.

“Who would ya give yer tags to if you died on the field?” It’s one of the nights you can’t sleep, and the captain can’t either. He’s drinking something- not coffee or tea- out of a mug, while you sip carefully on Earl’s Grey.

You think about the question, carefully. There is no one at home for you, no one special in your life… “A friend. Don’t have anyone at home, Captain.”

He looks up at you, adjusting his position on the stool. “It’s Johnny, Reaper. Call me Johnny when we’re like this.” You bite your tongue and decide not to respond. “Roach would get your tags?”

You shake your head. “No… Johnny.” The name feels strange coming out of your mouth- but you don’t regret letting it out, because he’s smiling at you. “Think I’d have them given to you.”

The rest of the night is spent in silence. You don’t ask who will receive his tags, afraid of the answer that he will give you.

Intel was shite. You’re hiding in a closet of the mansion, trying to keep quiet while shoving your hand in a thick bullet wound to get the piece of metal out, or you have a higher risk of dying here. Roach and Ghost are somewhere in the building too, probably doing much better by the sounds of it- every second a gunshot goes off. Your hands shake from it, and the pain from opening the wound.

“REAPER! Reaper do you copy?!” Ghost shouts into your ear. You flinch away from nothing and groan when your glove touches skin that doesn’t need to be touched.

With one of your bloodied hands, you reach toward your radio, pressing the side lightly. “Copy, LT. I’m in a bit of a… sticky situation.” Ha. Good one, not that he’d get it immediately. Then it goes right back into your stomach- because the bullet needs to go now, then you’d stitch it up. I have time. I have time.

“You injured?” You’re glad the radio noise goes to your ear, as footsteps around you become part of your hearing. You don’t reply. “Reaper, I need you to respond.”

Thankfully, it’s only Roach who’s creeping around the room. His gun lowers immediately when he sees it’s you opening the closet up. He almost ‘talks’ your ear off with a few signs, but sees the nasty bullet wound in your side as well as the one on your calf and decides not to. ‘Building is clear. Tell Ghost you’re injured, and that we’re coming down.’

“Yes sir. Got a bullet to the side and calf.” Roach puts an arm under one of your arms to help out of the room. “Need to get the bullet out, I was trying before Bug found me. We’re…. Ow- fuck- on our way down.”

“Roger that. Meet you both at the rendezvous point. Already called in for med too.” He doesn’t talk again.

You start to become slower as you reach the front door with Roach. He notices, but doesn’t ask if you’re okay- he’s stated before he finds it annoying to sign with one hand, and most phrases require two. “Hey, Gary? Got a question for you.” He lifts his head a bit. “If I were… to collapse… would you be able to carry… me to the rendezvous point?” Blood is still oozing out of your stomach and you’re beginning to feel really dizzy.

Roach’s eyes widen, and he doesn’t get the chance to give some sort of response- as your knees buckle and he has to move forward to catch you. And goddammit you’re a heavy man, but after a minute, he's able to put you over his back and move much slower towards Ghost.

Ghost looks a little disappointed that you’re out of commission, up until he sees the gigantic wound on your stomach. “Fucking hell. Soap won’t like this.” Roach gives the lieutenant a look through his goggles, not that he can actually see it. “Already worried enough about the man… Reaper's out of commission.”

At any other time, Roach would have asked about what he was referring to- but he was much too worried about his teammate, who was being operated on right in front of them. He let out a sigh of relief when he heard the bullet was removed. The medics informed Ghost that they’d stitch it up here, but you would be bedridden and put in med bay when they got back. ‘Worried that he’s out of commission?’

“No. Worried that he’ll die and Soap will get his tags.” Roach gulps- and there is a new fear unlocked for him. Captain MacTavish having four dog tags instead of two.

You wake up with a pain in your side and leg, as well as a shit ton of medical supplies injected in your skin. You reach over and try to take something off your arm, not the needle that’s stuck in, but a pad that’s probably tapped- but a hand stops you. You expect it to be Roach, his motherly ways telling you to heal properly, but it’s definitely not him.

“C-Captain?” Your voice is hoarse from misuse, and it makes you wonder how long you’ve been out.

He lets go of your hand, doesn’t lean back but scootches forward with the chair. There’s clear worry on his face, and it doesn’t settle- even when you’re not touching the medical stuff anymore. “What happened out there? Ghost and Roach weren’t near you, so I can’t get information from them.”

You wrinkle your nose and make a face. “You’ll read it in my report, I’m sure.” Captain MacTavish frowns further, and you think that if you were anyone else- probably would’ve punished you for insubordination. But you’re not just anyone else. “Fine. Didn’t check my six, got shot in the calf- as you can see, and after I shot him- his friend shot me in the stomach. Couldn’t focus with the pain, knew Ghost and Roach were taking care of it, so I hid in a closet and tried to get the bullet out. Stupid idea, but as I said… I couldn’t focus with the pain, for fucking once. Roach found me, I’m sure you know the rest.”

He does. Ghost told him. The lieutenant explained how your heart stopped once and the medics immediately took your tags off like you were going to die and shoved them in Roach’s hands. But you were brought back to life, and Roach gave the tags not to your body, but to Captain MacTavish, making sure to tell him that you were alive. The medics just yanked off your tags. “I do. Got it all when Roach gave the else to me.”

Your tags are given back to you, and your heart rate spikes over the fact that they were even in his hands. “I-I’m sorry.” It’s all you can tell him as you put them back over your neck. “Didn’t mean for this, sir- hope you know that.”

The captain’s expression falters to something softer. “It’s ‘Johnny’ , remember? Just me and you.” You try to smile, but you unfortunately move your middle and fuck with the bandage- instead scowling in pain. “Scared the shite outta me. Please don’t do that again.”

You make a face. “It’s in the line of work… Johnny. ‘S not like I’m looking to get hurt each time I get on the field anyway.” He returns the face you’ve made. “What? I'm called ‘Reaper’ for a reason, it’s not the other way around for others.”

“Yer missin’ my point.” His accent becomes more clear, as he’s now annoyed. You adjust your body so you’re more facing him, careful to not fuck with the stitches on two ends of your body. “I… fuck I shouldn’ be sayin’ any ‘o this to you.” Your heart rate spikes again, he looks over at the machine, then back at you. “Maybe after yer better.”

Bastard. Unsatisfied, you turn back over on your back. “Sure. If you say so.” You close your eyes, a silent dismissal to any further conversations.

The release from med bay comes after annoying the medics for two weeks. They don’t clear you to get back on the field, you’re stuck on the sidelines for another week, they just wanted you out. And you were completely okay to move around- just with limited activity.

That was only mildly frustrating, but you could live with it. Limping around base turned to be awkward at points, recruits whispering around you and only stopping when you craned your neck down to stare.

You tried to enter the gym once, just to watch the recruits- but Ghost caught your arm and dragged you back out like a child. “Nope. Strict orders, don’t want Soap knowing you’re in here, do you?”

“I was gonna watch the recruits, you sonovabitch!” You remove your arm with a yank from his hand, hissing in pain when a sharp pain shoots through your side. “And the captain can disrespectfully fuck off.”

Ghost is surprised by your response, but doesn’t follow you out of the room. He hears one of the recruits as ‘What crawled up Reaper’s ass?’ and the only thing he can think to do is threaten that recruit with sparring him. They shut up and get to sparring with their original partner.

You run into the person that you’re pissed at- and for not much of a reason either. Captain MacTavish looks up at you with a raised brow, because your shoulder had harshly bumped into his. “Alright there, sergeant?”

A frown ceases your lips, and the response comes before you can think about who you’re talking to. “What do you think, captain?” His eyes widen ever so slightly, and you hear someone who’s passing by whisper “Oh shite”.

“My office. Now.” You think that if you were shorter and this wasn’t a military base, he would’ve dragged you by your ear. But you simply follow behind him, closing the door to his office when you reach it. “Lock the door, I dinnae want anyone comin’ in.” You do as he says, then remain at the door, hands interlocked in front of you. “Is this about what I was sayin’ in med bay?”

You give him the same response as before, this time with a sneer. “What do you think, captain?” And if anyone else were still listening, they’d wonder if you knew what rank meant between soldiers. You do know, you just don’t care at this moment. “I’m feeling better, sort of… you can tell me now, can’t you?”

Captain MacTavish sits down in his chair and props his arms up so his fists can rest under his chin. “Say please and I will.” You raise a brow at him, completely unamused by the response. “I’m not joking, Reaper. You’ve been a right arse to everyone, don’ think I haven’ heard about it. What happens between us has nothin’ to do with them.”

Snapping at Roach and Ghost, threatening the recruits with empty ones… that’s all you can think about doing. “Fine. Please, oh captain, tell me what you were going to tell me in med bay.” Your tone is overly sarcastic, but you know he won't get onto you for it. Really, the only time you’re in trouble for insubordination is when you’re telling him or Ghost to ‘fuck off’.

“I’ve heard rumors… from two reliable sources.” That means he’s been talking with Ghost and Roach, probably over tea. Your stomach twists because this can only go one way by what you’re hearing. “That yer in the mindset of fraternization, with a superior officer?”

Those motherfuckers. “Just… childish thoughts, sir. I’m not acting upon them if that’s what you’re getting at.” I’m going to chop Roach’s hands off, then he won’t be signing to anyone about anything again. He said he wouldn’t say anything. Why would he tell the one person? “Am I in… trouble, sir?”

“Depends.” Captain MacTavish gets up from his chair, putting his hands behind his back as he walks over to you. You take a few steps back until you hit the door, and he’s just completely in your personal space now. “Give me their name.”

Oh. He doesn’t know. Roach is still slightly a loyal bastard, still told the captain nonetheless. “Dunno if you want to know—“

“Wasn’t a request,” the captain says softly. You stiffen while looking down at him. “Who is it?”

“You, Johnny.” Your mouth lets it out before your brain can tell it to be more careful about the response. Captain MacTavish stands just a little taller. “You’re the reason, I honestly don’t know how you haven’t noticed. For someone who’s ranked as a Captain, you sure don’t pay as much attention to your team as you should.”

Of course you had to give a little stab at authority. The captain’s nose scrunches- not in disgust, more of in surprise. So, he hasn’t known from anyone… How curious. “I’d call you blind as well then.” You stiffen and hope that a punishment isn’t coming for what you’ve just admitted. “I show that I care more than others, in my own way. I’d rather follow protocol, but it seems we won’t be doing that, will we?”

You frown. Captain MacTavish not following protocol and orders? Just for some… soldier? “What’re you saying?”

Captain MacTavish raises his arms, smoothing his fingers over your forearm. Goosebumps immediately turn up and you shudder. “How ‘bout we go out for drinks? Friday? Just you and me. We’ll talk more about it then.”

Oh. Oh… “Sounds like a date, Johnny.”

(End)

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