captain-mj - Tumblr blog

[captain-mj]

That one scene from Wilde but 09 SoapGhost… caus it just visually encapsulates their whole dynamic for me. MacTavish in control, oozing confidence - being possessive yet affectionate. With Riley, his loyal right-hand man, sitting on his lap as an equal yet submitting by choice - soaking in the attention. There’s a deep mutual respect and trust there, and everyone can see it.

[captain-mj]

You think Ghost wakes up some nights and starts clawing at the bedsheets around Soap in panic because he thinks they’re buried together? You think he ever put his fingers in his mouth to rip out his own jaw while in a state of mania? That Soap has to pry his fingers from his face and assure them they’re safe in their room?

[captain-mj]

Werewolf Price being hit with pheromones and they expect him to go feral or be evil but really he just herds everyone up and bumps heads with Ghost and grooms Gaz and fucks Graves until he can’t take it anymore safely outside of the sights of everyone else

[captain-mj]

Pray tell us those streamer au thoughts?

I realized in retrospect that the word I was looking for was youtuber, not necessarily streamer... oops? I hope this is still fine! I explained what I think they'd cover and how they meet

Ghost: He's a cryptid/urban legend youtuber. He often goes to these places and take the most ominous videos known to man. Often includes him perching in places he shouldn't be while in full tac gear. He openly talks about being in the military but is super cagey about further details. Plays some horror games and he starts talking to Soap and Roach through Dead By Daylight

Soap: A gaming youtuber. Actually does stream. Mostly does super long games in one go because he knows if he sets it down he'll never pick it back up. Plays a ton of multiplayer with friends which is how he started talking to Ghost. Openly thirsts after him but in a fun way for the audience. Ghost can't tell if it's real or not.

Roach: Silent youtuber. Mostly posts his own bugs and stays in his lane. Speed runs Terraria whenever his views drop. Has a running bit about having an onlyfans.

Price: Teaches basic self defense. Is the chilliest of all of them. Since he's canonically a stoner now, he's stoned in half of them. Will occasionally join Ghost on his adventures cause they knew each other in the military. Is Simply Built Better.

Gaz: A commentary youtuber, but the kind that is mostly just explaining what's going on, not the kind to fill it with his own opinions. Occasionally features Alex for the ones over the CIA.

Graves: Is a commentary youtuber that does fill it with his own opinions. Has pulled a gun out on screen before Moist Critical style.

Alex: Critics and debunks conspiracy theories. Especially one's connected with certain pipelines. Ghost and him have worked together multiple times and there is ship content of both of them.

Laswell: Doesn't have a youtube channel.

Alejandro: Plays horror games and dating sims. Has a super long series over boyfriend dungeon. Openly talks about his husband constantly.

Rodolfo: Cozy video games. Is stupidly organized about everything. Will not mention he's married.

Valeria: True Crime. She talks about certain female criminals with a little too much love.

Núñez: Valeria's Ryan.

Farah: The obvious answer is over her cause but I never want to go with the obvious answer. She's a ghost hunter. Get fucked.

Oz: Posts coding videos and is very funny. Lowkey like code bullet (god I hope he never sees this)

Velikan: Long think pieces that leave viewers and fundamentally changed.

Mila: Parkour and sight seeing. Breaks into abandoned places. No one knows her, Graves and Oz are friends until they found out they're platonically all living together.

Reyes: Work out youtuber. Shamelessly posts thirst traps.

Chuy: Another cryptid/urban legend youtuber. He focuses more on Mexican culture than Ghost. Refuses to play video games on stream.

[captain-mj]

First of all, I love your writing and your fics. I love your IWTV au so much. And I'm a fan of your other stuff.

Sooo I have some ideas I'd like to share with you , dear MJ. I was thinking of an isolated Ghost. He almost hides himself from people, some place like Alaska or in the wild. Somewhere cold and out of humans, so he can be all by himself. He doesn't want to be around people because of his past, and he hides himself from people. He lives in a cold forest or somewhere unreachable in winter because of the snow. He lives in a cabin.

And there is Soap, who goes on a camping trip with himself after breaking up with his boyfriend. Thinking that camping would help him get better emotionally. But it starts snowing, and he is not prepared, and he gets lost in the wild. He is desperate and cold. While searching for help and walking for hours. He comes across the cabin where Ghost is staying. Ghost doesn't welcome Soap at first, but because of the heavy snow, they are stuck for about a week or a month. So Ghost helps Soap get better, and they start to get close and hot...

I think I explained it in so much detail, but you can change it however you want. I'm always hungry for your stuff, in any form. And feel free to ignore this if you don't want to write about it. And of course, please don't mind my English; it's not my first language.

Ily,take care.

Very much can do that!! Yes!

Ghost sat in his cabin up the mountains, using his sniper to look down at everyone. He knew that right now there were two different groups of people camping. One further down that seemed to be full of experienced campers and one a bit higher up that set up their spot for their view. They were way too close for comfort.

Neither were particularly good company. No one was.

Ghost hated people. Especially fuckers who came on to the mountain for camping.

He had hoped this secluded place in the middle of nowhere would provide peace. Instead he just dealt with this.

Ghost put his gun away. It was for hunting and he was worried any gunshots would send the campers into a frenzy. He had plenty of food for the winter thanks to Price sending him stuff. Price insisted he just used Ghost's pension for it but he didn't believe him. Old sap probably used his own money.

Ghost went to his cabin and cleaned instead. Not that it really needed it. Besides the fact that he meticulously cleaned most of the time, nothing he did made much of a mess. It was mostly just dusting the books off to make sure they didn't get dry rot.

The snow started. A lot harsher than he had been expecting. It started to pile up on his porch and it made the roof creak a little.

Ghost imagined it caving in and crushing him. Suffocating under the weight of wood and snow.

There were worse deaths.

Further down the mountain, Soap went a little away from the group he came up with. He set up his tent and planned to relax for the next two days.

No cell service which was exactly what he needed. No worrying Mam, no angry ex trying to get him back. Just silence.

Soap was so bored. He supposed it was his fault for expecting anything less. He was not a person that sat still often. Always searching for the next thing. The next adventure.

This did not feel like an adventure. It felt stale.

Soap noticed the snow so he only walked within the vicinity of his tent. He followed the protocol, but it took one stumble for him to fall out of bounds. Quickly, Soap scrambled back up and glanced at his tent. Still right there, just slightly farther than before.

Maybe some sleep would do him some good.

Soap settled into his tent, ignoring the snow piling on top of it. It just kept coming. Covering him in a freezing cold blanket of water.

The tent had a hole in it. He had just bought it, he had no idea what he did to cause it. Although small, it was definitely messing up the whole insulation part of this. It also let snow in which started to melt, getting him and his clothes wet.

Frustration started to bubble over. He wasn't experienced at camping but he wasn't an idiot. This wouldn't work. He'd have to either fix it or leave and he wasn't sure how he could even leave.

Thanks to the water, his arm was soaked, cold digging in so hard it felt like actual needles. He tried to dry himself off but the whole situation wasn't working.

Reluctantly, he ignored that he was still slightly wet and got dressed. He'd just go out for help.

The people he came with weren't there. Or at least, they weren't where he thought they were. He didn't want to believe the guide they came would be so stupid as to not count the people before evacuating if they did, but he also said he wanted seclusion and lied about being experienced.

Maybe they assumed he already left?

Soap panicked for a moment. He allowed himself that. Before he straightened up and started thinking. There was no way he was the only person on the mountain. While he couldn't make it all the way down on his own, he was sure someone had to be there. It was mid morning, he had time before it got dark and cold.

Ghost sat on his porch close to twilight. He smoked silently, watching the trees.

The man had been walking around his property for a few minutes and Ghost was trying to figure out if he was a real person or not.

He sighed and whistled, watching him yank his head around painfully to stare at him.

"You okay?" Ghost called out.

Soap stepped a bit closer, no longer shivering. He was also holding his shoulder. "Are you God?"

"Oh for fuck's sake. Sure. I'm God. Where are your things?"

"I took them."

"Why are you jacketless in the middle of the snow?"

"It had gotten wet. Was trying to dry it out but it didn't really work..."

Ghost sighed. "Come closer."

Soap stumbled to the steps. His pants up to his knees were soaked and his face had pale skin with rosy patches.

Ghost sighed in frustration and opened the door. "Come on." He'd get the guy warm and then send him on his way. The snow wasn't too bad yet. Neither of them had a radio to know that it was predicted to get much worse.

So Ghost accepted him in and had him sit in front of the fire. He found a dry blanket and wrapped it around his shoulders. "You okay?"

Soap started to shiver.

"Guess not."

"Got a drink?" Soap rasped out.

Ghost poured him a nip of bourbon and handed him.

"Don't suppose you got Scotch?" Soap said softly before knocking back the drink. He grimaced and Ghost was sure he heard a mutter under his breath about British people having shit taste.

Ghost watched the way the alcohol raced through him. Color almost immediately back in his face. "Thanks. Name's Soap by the way."

"...Ghost. The fuck you doing up there?" Ghost went by his callsign since there was no way someone would name their kid Soap. He thought of asking him about his shoulder but decided against it.

Soap sighed. "Trying to clear my head." He flinched when Ghost laughed at him.

"Piss poor job of preparing."

"Aye. Suppose I thought myself a survivalist." Soap laughed softly before averting his eyes. He looked embarrassed.

Good.

Ghost put the bottle of bourbon next to him. "Drink as much as you want." He knew he'd barely make a dent on the bottle.

Soap only took what he had to. He managed to get himself warm.

Ghost looked out at the sky. Too dark to send him anywhere.

"In the morning, I'll show you the way down the mountain."

"Yes, sir." Soap looked at him. He seemed almost indignant. Like Ghost was being bossy.

Ghost bit his tongue. "fuck off. Go to bed near the fire. You'll need to stay warm all night."

Soap nodded and laid down. "Don't have to tell me twice."

Ghost went to his bedroom, brandishing a knife. He stayed there and watched the door all night. Just in case. Just in case.

Soap stayed in the living room and he tried to Keep warm. Ghost would come in like clockwork to put more wood on the fire.

During the night, the snow came down harder. Before long, it was at the door, covering the entire porch.

Ghost groaned as he watched it. While yes, he may be able to go down by himself, he'd never be able to get Soap down the mountain as well. As much as he hated it, he also likely wouldn't be able to make it back.

Soap stirred and groaned, holding his shoulder. He saw the outside and before long came to the same realization that Ghost did. "So we bunking together?" It sounded sheepish, like there was a risk that Ghost would throw him out into the cold.

Ghost sighed. "Yeah we are. I have a guest room that i haven't used in ages. I'll get it set up."

"And I had to sleep on the floor... why?"

"Be closer to the fire." Ghost left him alone to brush the dust off of everything. He had planned to turn it into a gym or something equally useful, but never did. The stupid room came with the house.

Once it was livable, Ghost came back out. "You can go in. I'll make breakfast. We'll be up here a while. It's still snowing so it's hard to tell."

"You have a vehicle or anything?"

"Nope. We'll be walking."

Soap cursed in a funny language and stretched, back popping. "How long you guessing?"

"A week. Minimum."

Soap winced. "Sorry for the... everything."

Ghost stared at him for a moment before just going in. He cooked breakfast silently and Soap sat nearby. Occasionally, he'd start talking, but Ghost didn't respond to any of it.

"Oh come on. You're going to be stuck with me for a week. Might as talk to me. What are you doing up here so isolated?"

Ghost put a plate of eggs, bacon and hashbrowns in front of him. He sat across from him and yanked his mask up just enough to start eating.

His scars had the effect he hoped. Soap winced at the harsh smile cut into Ghost's face. "Aye. I see."

"Good." Ghost answered, shoveling food down. He mentally counted through his supplies. He had enough for a few months, so with two people, it should be fine. This bastard was getting none of his ice cream though.

Soap ate quietly before swallowing. "Gang?"

"Military." Ghost admitted begrudgingly.

"Aye. I see. I'm a sergeant right now."

"Retired." Ghost drank some of his tea.

Soap nodded. "Look, I'm not trying to be an ass here. Really. You don't have to talk to me. But. Do you have any coffee?"

Ghost stared at him for a minute before getting up and checking. "I got instant and regular."

"Got a coffee pot?"

"French press. It was a gift."

Soap's eyebrows scrunched together. "You know how to use it?"

"...No."

"Fuck."

They put their heads together and worked with the French Press until they managed to get a cup of coffee brewing. Ghost watched the stuff bubble and huffed. "Tea is easier to make."

"Coffee tastes better."

"Yeah, right." Ghost continued drinking his tea.

"Since we got it figured out, do you at least wanna cup to try your gift?"

Ghost sighed. "Yeah, why not."

Black coffee was just as dreadful as he remembered. He added some sugar, ignoring Soap's mildly judgmental gaze.

The first day was spent with Ghost trying to do his normal routine of reading or working out and Soap being incredibly bored. Ghost felt too uncomfortable to do most of his workout routine with him around and decided to give up.

"Do you have internet? Or anything? Most of my stuff was left in my tent."

Ghost sighed. "No. How far away was your tent?"

Soap hummed. "No clue honestly. I don't think it was that far, but there should be a trail of my clothing. I have no idea why I started taking it off."

"Hypothermia makes you feel warm after a while. It's some psychological thing. It's why some people who are frozen to death are found naked."

Soap grimaced at him. "That's horrifying."

Ghost shrugged and showed him the guest room. It was pretty nice, if a bit plain. Soap fell on the bed and groaned. "Firm. I like that."

Ghost hit his boots. "I'll try to find your tent tomorrow. Get some sleep."

The second day he found himself being trailed by Soap despite the asshole clearly should be staying at home. He kept touching and rubbing at his shoulder. Ghost was trying not to ask, but he'd need to eventually. If he got infected, that would make everything a lot harder.

They found his tent and Soap went searching for his phone. Unfortunately it was dead and when they got home, they found that his charger had too much water damage to help. Soap sighed and rubbed his face. "I knew I shouldn't have come out here."

"Why did you?"

Soap thought about it for a second before turning towards him. "My ex." He was careful not to include man or woman. This guy could be homophobic for all he knew.

Ghost nodded. "Got it. Their fault or yours?"

Soap blinked. "What?"

"You cheat on them and up here hiding from it? Lot of guys do. Or did you come up here because they're a right prick?"

They. Not she. They. Soap picked up on the pronouns and took a deep breath. "They asked me to leave the military. I said no. They said stuff."

Ghost tilted his head. "I see. Well. They can't exactly find you up here."

"Aye. Guess they can't." Soap smiled.

On the third day. Ghost went searching and found his dvd player and old tv. He showed Soap his dvd collection.

Soap hummed. "More romance movies than I'd expect."

"I inherited my mum's collection." Ghost lied.

"Uh huh." Soap picked a movie and put it on, happy to have something else to do besides sit there. How Ghost did it was beyond him.

On the fourth day, Soap even managed to convince Ghost to sit with him through one of the movies. It was a romance movie that Ghost had memorized. It was a film where she had to travel across Ireland and stayed with a nice Irish man throughout the journey.

Soap drank some more of the coffee and it seemed to calm him down a little.

After a bit of hesitation, Ghost looked at him. "You smoke weed?"

"No." Soap glanced at him.

"You wanna start?"

Soap took a deep breath. "Fuck it. Sure."

Ghost pulled out a joint and lit it. He took the first hit and then gave it to Soap.

Soap coughed and Ghost laughed at him. "It's a little different than a cigarette."

"Yeah, a little bit, sir." Soap smiled at him and they passed it back and forth for a bit.

Ghost felt the pretty much permanent ache throughout his body disappear. It seemed to do the same for Soap's shoulder.

They both relaxed for a bit and Soap looked over at him. "You're a cool guy, Ghost."

"Thank you." Ghost smiled at him and kept smoking. They put on another movie and relaxed for a while. It took the edge off.

Soap swallowed. "Why are you up here?"

"It sucks down there."

"Does it get lonely?"

"Sometimes." Ghost mumbled, his head falling against the couch. Around people he was usually always wide awake. Too scared. But Soap made him feel weirdly safe.

Soap fell asleep against his shoulder and Ghost followed soon after.

When they wake up, the fire had been out for hours and the house was freezing.

"Fucking hell." Ghost got up and tried to start a new fire but it wasn't sparking.

Soap shivered. "Well, that's not great. Anything i can do to help?"

Ghost checked the wood. It was fucking damp for some reason. He couldn't figure out why but that would be better for morning when he had more light. "My bedroom has the least amount of windows."

Soap's eyes gleamed as they shacked up in there. Ghost covered his windows with curtains and grabbed some more blankets as he turned on the lights.

His room was far better decorated than any other part of the house. His bed was covered in quilts and high quality soft pillows. A cabinet in the corner had tons of photos from Ghost in his time in the military. Most of them had Ghost's own face covered with marker.

"You know Captain Price?"

"Yeah, I know John." Ghost rearranged a few things and started to strip off his jacket.

Soap paused to stare, admiring the muscles that were revealed when the shirt followed right after. His pants unfortunately did not come off too. "Take off your shirt."

Soap nodded and followed the order. Was this happening? Were they about to fuck right here and right now? The worst part was he was going to let it happen.

Ghost pulled him into bed and shifted so he was fucking spooning him. "Fucking hell I was cold." He settled into the warmth and promptly closed his eyes, pretending nothing was happening.

Soap was in heaven. Or maybe hell. Either way he was getting hard and that was not great.

Ghost fell back to sleep. Soap was ridiculously hard, pressed against a beautifully muscled chest. He could feel each of Ghost's breaths with the rise and fall of it. In a desperate attempt to calm down, he thought of war. His ex. The fact that his ex was probably trying to blow up his very dead phone.

Soap thought of his ex and felt a strange lump in his throat. God he didn't want to go home. He really didn't want to. His ex would be at his heels like a baying fucking dog to nip at his fucking heels.

Soap let out a sharp noise, a bit like a sob, and quickly bit his lip to shut up.

Ghost pulled him closer. "Soap?"

"My name is Johnny."

Ghost's thumb rubbed circles in his chest. "Johnny." Oh that beautiful voice. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Simon. You okay?"

"My ex tried to hurt me. I'm military, don't know why he thought it was a smart idea. But when I defended myself, he was just... so cruel. Called me shit I never wanted to hear again. Accidentally made myself upset over it."

"I'm sorry, Johnny."

"S'okay. Nothing to do with you. You're the first person that hasn't made me feel worse honestly."

"Not worse. I'll take it." Ghost sounded a tiny bit amused. He squeezed him. "Do you feel warmer?"

"Yes. Feels nice in this bed with you." Soap didn't mean to sound quite as suggestive as he did, but Ghost noticed. His grip loosened briefly before tightening again, tangling their legs together. "Simon."

Ghost turned him onto his back and kissed him, having pulled up his mask at some point. His scars tickled a little. It was pretty nice honestly.

Soap's fingers ran down his chest to his pant's button and undid it for him. "Is this okay?"

"Should be asking you that." Ghost gruffed. "Don't have to do too much tonight, but you're hard."

"So are you. Can feel you through your jeans." Soap smiled at him. He slowly unzipped his pants and touched over Ghost's cock.

Ghost let out a small whine. "Fuck, it's been so long." He quickly unzipped Soap's pants and pulled him out, having no shame about it. His hand fit around both of them and his thumb easily ran over Soap's head.

"Me too. Won't judge you if you don't last long." Soap teased, pulling him back to kiss him again. He groaned as he thrust up. "Nice and easy, yeah?"

Ghost rutted into him and moved his hand in time. They kept kissing as his hand found a decadent rhythm, truly stretching the pleasure out for both of them.

Soap moaned and his back arched trying to press himself even closer. "Simon."

Ghost bit his lip hard and paid more attention to Soap's cock, trying to get him closer and closer. He felt him start to pant into his mouth and licked into his mouth happily.

Simon buried his face into his throat and came over his chest. Despite this, he managed to keep his hand moving so Soap followed after a moment later.

Johnny kissed him softly. "Later, if you have lube, I'll let you fuck me."

Simon wondered briefly if he was a rebound and then decided he didn't particularly care. "Okay."

[captain-mj]

What about Horangi ends up at the big crime boss’s table, betting his body at a game against the crime boss’s son. Maybe they flirt a little?

Korangi?? I can do Korangi??

König did not like gambling. He liked playing cards and he considered himself rather lucky, but once money was involved, it fell out of his favor.

But his father liked him being there for show. Something about "Family image" and "you'll take over the business one day".

König didn't mean to be bitter about it. Any money he lost would quite literally be given back to him. But the men around him were getting desperate, trying to ration or count out their chips. A few went all in, looking a tad bit confident, but he doubted they'd beat his hand.

A new comer came to the table. He had plenty of chips. But it wasn't the money that drew König's (and several of the other people at the table) eyes. The suit he was wearing wasn't the best fitting, being a little loose around the waist like he had lost some weight. But his hips. Thighs. If he turned around, König would actually put a few chips down that his ass would be just as nice.

His face was mostly covered up but he had gorgeous brown eyes. They blinked at the table as he sat down and put his chips down.

The card dealer didn't miss a beat, shuffling him in on the next round.

"What's your name?" One of the other people at the table asked.

"Horangi." He answered as he started playing.

König tried not to judge people too harshly. He understood that gambling could be addicting. But he had heard quite about this Horangi. He knew about the debts currently hanging over his pretty head. He also knew that he was unfortunately a slave to his own whims, unable to escape the appeal of shiny cards.

König had heard a rumor that Horangi had possibly done some fighting to get more cash.

That being said, Horangi was a horrible gambler. The first half of the chips were blown through in only a few rounds and the second half trickled away only a little slower. Several of the people at the table were like predators, goading him into it and the scavengers would win some more of the chips.

There was a panic to his eyes. A real fear. Not like the eyes of people who gambled away their retirement money or their kid's money. No. This was the fear he saw in the eyes of someone who desperately needed to win.

Then he was empty handed. It happened fast. He ran his hands on his thighs like they were clammy.

König considered offering some cash. Just enough to keep him in.

The dealer stepped in before he had a chance. "No money. Got something else you want to bet?"

Horangi looked up. He checked his wrists and then his throat for jewelry presumably before answering.

"A night of my body"

"That all inclusive? Anything I want?" One of the pretty ladies at the table asked. She smiled but she was still a predator.

König made direct eye contact with the dealer, and judging by the suddenly very serious expression on his face, he knew what König wanted.

The others talked and mostly agreed to take the deal, with only one person declining.

König could only think of splitting him on his cock. Would he be a crier? Or would he refuse to moan?

Regardless, König knew his legs would be shaking. There were better places for pretty men like Horangi to be than working. They should be in König's bed. He should be in König's bed.

The dealer smiled pleasantly. "A night, Horangi? Winning hand this round wins it?"

Horangi nodded after a moment, eyes crinkling a little like he was smiling. "Deal."

Cards were shuffled. Cards were laid down.

Four people folded immediately, leaving three people left.

Interesting.

Horangi looked a little confident. It was a good sign.

The three showed their hands.

Two Aces of Spades. One in König's hand, one in the other man's.

Horangi stayed quiet. He beat the other man, but he didn't beat König.

"Betrüger." König said lowly, glancing at the other man through his hood. "Not smart."

"No, sir. I swear, I didn't! It must have been a mistake, I promise. I'll fold." The man tried to defend himself.

König pulled out a blade, flicking it around his hand. The other gamblers looked around each other fearfully. "Sei froh, dass ich barmherzig bin. Get lost."

The innocent man grabbed his left over chips and left.

König stood up and walked around the table to Horangi, putting his hand on his shoulder. He felt painfully tense under König's hand but König did not go through the effort of cheating to get his night with him to go home empty handed.

Horangi tapped his fingers against the table. "Well, you won, fair and square." He stood up and turned towards him. "You're cashing in right now?"

König pulled him along. "I have a room in the back."

Horangi stumbled. "They have rooms here?" He paused when he realized König was bringing them to the spare rooms in the back for the crime family that owned the place. "Wait, I don't think the owner of this place would be too happy about this."

"I'm sure my father will understand." König moved him, forcing him forward.

He heard the sharp sound that got out of Horangi.

"Don't worry. I'll be real gentle for our first time."

Another wounded sound. König understood why he was concerned, but he really didn't need to be. He wasn't a sadist in bed.

Horangi managed to keep walking but König could practically hear his heart beating faster. He got them to his room and put his hand around the back of his neck.

"Like anything special?"

"You check all the boxes, sweetheart. Got anything I can't do to you?"

Horangi shrugged. "I'm at your service. Whatever you want."

König did not like that answer. He'd be careful then. He picked him up using his thighs and let Horangi grab his shoulders to keep steady. "You're going to be so fun."

Horangi swallowed thickly and nodded. "Right..."

König should maybe consider the implications. He had cheated. It was likely Horangi would've won. If he was a good man, he'd let him off the hook.

But he was not. However, he wasn't completely morally bankrupt.

"I'll give you some money too. Everything I won. I think you need it more, love." He laid him out on the mattress, watching him flush.

Horangi went to ask before seeming to think better. "Alright. And I should call you?"

"König. And I meant what I said. I'm going to be gentle." He grabbed those seductive hips.

Horangi nodded and bared his throat for him. "Don't remove the mask."

König nodded and finally got back to what he wanted. He stripped Horangi of everything but his mask, tracing a few of the scars. They were thick and clearly inflicted with the intention of making 'tiger scars'.

He had a feeling he knew who's work it was. Later, he'd kill them for this. Scarring such a beautiful body. Though, with Horangi, it somehow added to his charm.

König kissed down his chest and then got lube. He wasted no time in starting to slicking up his fingers and trying to get one into Horangi. He was incredibly tight and his own fingers were quite thick. The tip of his finger managed to wiggle it's way in and he added more lube to make it easier for him.

Horangi spread his legs a bit more and led König's head to his neck. Instinctively, he started to bite and suck hickeys into his neck. Almost immediately, it was easier to ease his finger into him. He crooked it to brush against Horangi's sweet spot to make him groan.

"You're not much for easing into it huh?"

König hummed. "I prefer quick and dirty. Works better for me." He warmed him up enough to fit another one into him.

Horangi moaned and threw his head back. Those pretty thighs spread wider to allow him in deeper.

König worked a third one into him and spread his fingers open wide. He wanted to make sure he was nice and slick.

Then, he pulled out and shoved Horangi's knees to his chest. His cock laid on Horangi's stomach, watching it twitch.

"Ah." Horangi wheezed. "Might be a tight fit." He looked bored with the whole thing, despite how his cock was clearly still hard.

"You'll take it. Like I said, nice and easy." He pulled back and pressed the tip of his cock against his rim. "Just stay relaxed for me. I'll double it if you let me cum inside."

Horangi swallowed and nodded immediately. He groaned briefly, half in pleasure half in pain, as he started to push in, but he cut himself off to glance away, playing hard to get.

Fuck, he wasn't kidding. So tight. König stopped after an inch or two before sliding out and sliding back in further. He stroked Horangi a little with the left over lube on his hand to keep his attention.

Horangi panted softly as König kept going back and forth, slowly opening him further. The pleasure was unbearable for both of them, but König sought more. He bit his shoulder when he bottomed out, rewarding him. Despite the attempts of him to stay looking bored, he mewled like a kitten when he started to hit his prostate.

König treated sex like everything else. He was accurate, forceful and honestly a little competitive. He wanted to be the best. He wanted Horangi to think about this night and realize he wasn't going to get better.

His hood and Horangi's mask got in the way of kissing him like he was wanted, so he continued to just pleasure him.

Horangi couldn't keep his eyes straight, they'd flutter to the back of his head and his nails dug deep into his shoulder. "Fuck, I..." He spoke into what König was fairly certain was his mother tongue. They were broken occasionally as he broke into moans.

König lifted his hood a little to make it easier to run his face along his chest before sinking his teeth into nipple and then sucked harshly. Like he wanted, Horangi's legs were shaking hard before he came all over himself. His hole tightened which only made König fuck him harder.

König hummed. "Rather easy. Enjoying it that much?"

Horangi grunted as his face reddened with the overstimulation. His ankles dug into König's back as that tight fucking hole of his kept taking it. Tears filled his eyes but his cock was twitching, already desperately trying to get back up.

König opened his mouth, planning on telling him how hot he looked and maybe throwing in a line about how he looked like a whore but he wasn't sure if Horangi would be into that.

"Leon?" One of his father's guards knocked.

König thrust in hard to make Horangi scream in pleasure. He pulled out of him and flipped him over, leaning across his back to speak in his ear. "I'll be right back."

Horangi nodded and put his head in his arms. He did pull the sheet over himself but that made sense.

König opened the door, ignoring that he was naked. "What??"

"Is now not a good time sir?"

"No. It's not. Tell anyone else who might bother me to piss off. I have until fucking morning." He slammed the door and stalked back, yanking Horangi across the bed. Before he pushed back into him, he checked to make sure Horangi was still good and open. Then he pushed back into him.

Horangi moaned loudly before burying his face in the bed. He let König move him around like a doll to keep slamming into him over and over again.

König pulled his head up by his hair so he could hear the desperate little sounds coming from his mouth. "They're so annoying. Unlike you. Always shoving their noses in places they don't belong. None are as pretty as you."

Horangi whined and he was trying to muffle himself but it wasn't working.

"Horangi. Can I come inside you? I want to see how deep I can get it. If I can make sure it doesn't drip out." König grinded his cock deeper into him, pleased to hear a shocked little sob.

"Yes." Horangi tried to nod but his grip in his hair was too tight.

König hummed, very pleased. He started to stroke him in time. "You're going to cum when I do. I want to feel how tight you get."

"Fuck. I heard you were shy."

He laughed. "With other people, maybe. But in bed, I can't exactly waste time. I'd never get anywhere."

Horangi sobbed when he came, clearly not used to orgasming so soon back to back. The tightness was heavenly and König grinded as far as he could into him before coming, even forcing his hips up at an angle to go in deeper. That flutter drove him crazy. The clenching of his muscles. Even the shine in his eyes from tears.

König slapped his ass and felt him clench again. "Good boy." He pulled out slowly, happy to see how he gaped from the large size. "You know, Horangi. How would you like to be kept huh? I'd pay off your debts. Even give you a little spending money. And every night, I'd do this to you."

Horangi huffed. "Not looking to be a lap dog. Sorry."

König traced his fingers down his spine. "Don't ever bet your body again."

"Why is that?"

"Cause I'll kill them and then I'll take it." König slapped his ass again, this time on the other cheek so their were twin handprints.

[captain-mj]

I am not immune to streamer au thoughts

[captain-mj]

Bro you cannot just drop prep/jock soap and goth ghost and dip. We need you to give us your brain worms so we can analyze it like a science project

When you have time of course

I will put my worms in a petri dish for you

Soap was an artist! He liked sketching and painting and the act of making art. But he didn't like art essays. The explaining over and over again each detail. Breaking down everything until it felt like a bunch of paint strokes instead of art.

But part of an art degree is a ton of art essays. So Soap went to the museum to write what he needed. He preferred museums to finding art online. A big part of art for him was texture. His preference would've been to touch the art, to feel the paint underneath his fingers. But the assignment specified art from the Baroque period and therefore they had to be older and no museum was going to allow his grubby hands to touch the art.

Soap glanced down one of halls to see if there was anything interesting there when he faltered.

Oh lord.

The man was big. His shoulders. His height. The thighs he had that looked like tree trunks. It was all covered in tight black fabric and silver chains. A work of bloody art himself.

Soap had to hold himself back from wolf whistling.

Once he was done objectifying admiring the man's body, he looked higher up. There was a mask covering the bottom of his face, the only thing visible being his eyes which had heavy eyeliner on them. He could still see the locs of bleached blond hair that surrounded him like a halo.

Soap wanted to paint him.

"You gonna stare all day?" Someone snarked at him and he jumped, glancing at a slightly smaller blond man. He looked at him like he was gross and for a brief moment, he worried he might be about to be hate crimed. The man looked a lot the other one actually now that he was looking closer. Dressed the same way too.

"Aye, what's your fucking problem with it?"

The man's face scrunched. "Ew." He walked away, leaving Soap rather confused but now a bit determined to talk to mystery man.

Pretending to be looking through the paintings, he got closer to him.

Dark brown eyes quickly glanced over at him before glancing back at the paintings.

"Hey. My name is Soap."

"Ghost."

Ooh, he's from Manchester and sticks with his aesthetic. Nice. He'd prefer a not British person, but as far as British people go, he could do worse than Manchester. He glanced at the painting Simon had been admiring.

The Raising of Lazarus by Rembrandt.

"It's a lovely painting." Soap put on his normal charm, acting suave and polite.

"Aye." Ghost gruffed and went quiet again, staring in simple contemplation. His arms were crossed, making already large arms flex.

Soap started to take notes for his assignment. Although he was definitely hoping to score well in more than one ways, he did need to take notes for his assignment.

Ghost glanced over at what he was writing quizzically and Soap answered the unasked question. "I'm doing a project."

"Fun." He huffed and looked back at the painting.

Soap looked down at his chest and licked his hips. "Yeah, it's a good one." He kept writing stuff. "You a college student?"

"Yeah."

"What do you study?"

"Forensics. I'm assuming you're art?"

"Chemistry with a minor in art!" Right as Soap went to mention how funny it was that they didn't share any classes, Ghost interrupted him.

"Wait. Johnny? Johnny MacTavish? We share several classes."

Soap brightened. "Do you dress like this all the time?" There was zero chance he did or Soap would already know his name, address and dick size.

"We have morning classes together. I don't dress up for morning classes." Ghost said decisively. He stretched and shook his head.

How did he manage to not notice the shoulders though at least? The man was huge. He was also several inches taller than Soap and therefore the majority of the class. Maybe if he sat in the back and left later than everyone?

Soap nodded. "Understandable. You look nice."

"Nice huh?" Ghost smiled at him. He could tell cause his eyes scrunched slightly.

"Yeah. Nice." Soap said softly, his chest doing something weird.

They stared at the painting a while before Ghost pulled away to start exploring the rest of the exhibit.

Soap finished up the notes he needed to write his paper and then started to walk with him. He tried to find his opening during all of this.

Ghost stopped at a very specific painting.

ARTEMESIA GENTILESCHI, JUDITH SLAYING HOLOFERNES, C. 1612–1613

The art was... stunning. The red, faded from time and wear, was still beautiful against the white of the blankets.

The women held him down and there was a movement to it that Soap wanted in his own work. His fingers trembled with the want to touch it. To feel the texture of the paint under his fingers. Ridges and bumps and smooth layers of the different strokes.

Ghost hummed. "I don't really get art. It's pretty but some people look at it and it... gives them something. An epiphany."

Soap hummed. "I find touching it helps."

Ghost looked at him, raking his eyes over him. "I see. Do you want to head out then?"

Soap frowned. "Why?"

"You're a piece of art and I'm looking for an epiphany."

[captain-mj]

Pay-Per-View

Based (loosely) on a phone call I got at my work, but basically, the gang finds out Ghost still pays for cable porn instead of literally any other option. I understand that in the uk, cable porn is different but I've tried to get a straight answer on how it works and came up blank so I'm working with what I know

It was either this or werewolf porn and I finished this first. Pure crack.

"Wow, you actually still have a cable box?" Alejandro asked as he glanced at the clunky box attached to the tv. The 141, Alex, Farah, Alejandro and Rodolfo had come over to his flat. They had all been invited by Price and somehow, someway, they ended up at Ghost's house instead of Price's flat. He knew it was because Price had a flat and Ghost had inherited a house, but still.

"Yes." Ghost continued to make tea. "I'll eventually set up that stick thing you guys got me, but I'm rarely here."

Alejandro frowned at him. "Giant flat screen and you watch cable? Really? You have internet, I could set it up for you right now?"

Ghost shrugged and Alejandro quickly started to set it up. Alex stood by to help, as they tried to figure out how to unhook the cable box to set up the Roku they bought him.

They turned on the tv and moans filled the entire flat. The two men on the screen were looking into each other's eyes with the amount of passion that only really showed up in porn.

"I told you that you belong with me." The 'top' character growled and rocked into the person underneath them. He was big and tattooed, holding the smaller man underneath him by his wrists.

"Yes, sir." A soft whine came from the person underneath. He threw his head back to expose his throat.

Alex scrambled to change the channel as Alejandro started to wheeze. "YOU PAY FOR FUCKING PAY-PER-VIEW?"

"Where else would i get porn?" Ghost didn't seemed bothered at all despite the mortified looks of a few people. "I have a flat screen. I want to use it."

Alejandro was still wheezing as Alex finally managed to pause it. "It's three fucking hours?? Do you jack off the whole time?"

"...Yeah?"

Rodolfo cleared his throat. "So! Dinner plans?"

"How do you not finish?" Gaz ignored him trying to tactfully get away from the situation.

Ghost frowned. "I just stop, wait a minute and keep going?? Same thing you do during sex?"

Gaz looked flabbergasted. "That's not normal."

Price tried to talk louder to get everyone's attention. "So, Rodolfo, dinner plans you were saying?"

"Fuck you mean not normal?" Ghost scoffed. "Can't a man relax in his own home? Sometimes a bloke wants to take it slow."

Alejandro asked. "What do you light candles? Put on some classical music?"

There was just a bit too long of a pause before Ghost said, "No."

"Oh my god. Oh my god." Alex covered his face. "I don't want to envision this."

Soap interrupted. "Classical music? Really?"

"Sometimes I put on jazz."

Soap nodded and got out his phone.

Farah hummed. "Alex, we have pay per view on our cable. You've used it."

"I have not!" Alex blushed.

Farah frowned. "When you click on the porn channels on tv, I pay for those."

Alex stared at her. "I don't use those."

"...Alex. I've caught you using them. Please do not patronize me."

Ghost raised his hand at Alex. "See, Ale."

"Don't ever pronounce my nickname like that again."

Ghost sighed. "Dinner plans?"

Soap hummed. "So what porn do you like?"

"Are we seriously doing this?" Gaz asked.

Ghost frowned. "So dinner plans?"

They shelfed the conversation for later.

[captain-mj]

Bro you cannot just drop prep/jock soap and goth ghost and dip. We need you to give us your brain worms so we can analyze it like a science project

When you have time of course

I will put my worms in a petri dish for you

Soap was an artist! He liked sketching and painting and the act of making art. But he didn't like art essays. The explaining over and over again each detail. Breaking down everything until it felt like a bunch of paint strokes instead of art.

But part of an art degree is a ton of art essays. So Soap went to the museum to write what he needed. He preferred museums to finding art online. A big part of art for him was texture. His preference would've been to touch the art, to feel the paint underneath his fingers. But the assignment specified art from the Baroque period and therefore they had to be older and no museum was going to allow his grubby hands to touch the art.

Soap glanced down one of halls to see if there was anything interesting there when he faltered.

Oh lord.

The man was big. His shoulders. His height. The thighs he had that looked like tree trunks. It was all covered in tight black fabric and silver chains. A work of bloody art himself.

Soap had to hold himself back from wolf whistling.

Once he was done objectifying admiring the man's body, he looked higher up. There was a mask covering the bottom of his face, the only thing visible being his eyes which had heavy eyeliner on them. He could still see the locs of bleached blond hair that surrounded him like a halo.

Soap wanted to paint him.

"You gonna stare all day?" Someone snarked at him and he jumped, glancing at a slightly smaller blond man. He looked at him like he was gross and for a brief moment, he worried he might be about to be hate crimed. The man looked a lot the other one actually now that he was looking closer. Dressed the same way too.

"Aye, what's your fucking problem with it?"

The man's face scrunched. "Ew." He walked away, leaving Soap rather confused but now a bit determined to talk to mystery man.

Pretending to be looking through the paintings, he got closer to him.

Dark brown eyes quickly glanced over at him before glancing back at the paintings.

"Hey. My name is Soap."

"Ghost."

Ooh, he's from Manchester and sticks with his aesthetic. Nice. He'd prefer a not British person, but as far as British people go, he could do worse than Manchester. He glanced at the painting Simon had been admiring.

The Raising of Lazarus by Rembrandt.

"It's a lovely painting." Soap put on his normal charm, acting suave and polite.

"Aye." Ghost gruffed and went quiet again, staring in simple contemplation. His arms were crossed, making already large arms flex.

Soap started to take notes for his assignment. Although he was definitely hoping to score well in more than one ways, he did need to take notes for his assignment.

Ghost glanced over at what he was writing quizzically and Soap answered the unasked question. "I'm doing a project."

"Fun." He huffed and looked back at the painting.

Soap looked down at his chest and licked his hips. "Yeah, it's a good one." He kept writing stuff. "You a college student?"

"Yeah."

"What do you study?"

"Forensics. I'm assuming you're art?"

"Chemistry with a minor in art!" Right as Soap went to mention how funny it was that they didn't share any classes, Ghost interrupted him.

"Wait. Johnny? Johnny MacTavish? We share several classes."

Soap brightened. "Do you dress like this all the time?" There was zero chance he did or Soap would already know his name, address and dick size.

"We have morning classes together. I don't dress up for morning classes." Ghost said decisively. He stretched and shook his head.

How did he manage to not notice the shoulders though at least? The man was huge. He was also several inches taller than Soap and therefore the majority of the class. Maybe if he sat in the back and left later than everyone?

Soap nodded. "Understandable. You look nice."

"Nice huh?" Ghost smiled at him. He could tell cause his eyes scrunched slightly.

"Yeah. Nice." Soap said softly, his chest doing something weird.

They stared at the painting a while before Ghost pulled away to start exploring the rest of the exhibit.

Soap finished up the notes he needed to write his paper and then started to walk with him. He tried to find his opening during all of this.

Ghost stopped at a very specific painting.

ARTEMESIA GENTILESCHI, JUDITH SLAYING HOLOFERNES, C. 1612–1613

The art was... stunning. The red, faded from time and wear, was still beautiful against the white of the blankets.

The women held him down and there was a movement to it that Soap wanted in his own work. His fingers trembled with the want to touch it. To feel the texture of the paint under his fingers. Ridges and bumps and smooth layers of the different strokes.

Ghost hummed. "I don't really get art. It's pretty but some people look at it and it... gives them something. An epiphany."

Soap hummed. "I find touching it helps."

Ghost looked at him, raking his eyes over him. "I see. Do you want to head out then?"

Soap frowned. "Why?"

"You're a piece of art and I'm looking for an epiphany."

[captain-mj]

Celebration or Funeral

Graves invites the crew out to a bar for seemingly no reason and hopefully no ulterior motives.

Price was dumbfounded at the audacity honestly. Graves had sent out an invite to the 141 and Alejandro and Rodolfo. Even included plus ones if they had a partner to bring.

He didn't understand at all. It was so bizarre. The invitation was safe. They had a team to check for anthrax and the like. But everything had been given the seal of approval.

There was a time, date, location, even coordinates in case they didn't know the place. He had checked. It was a bar in Texas that was close enough to the border that the Los Vaqueros wouldn't have to travel too far from home. It was close to where they had chased Hassan originally.

The 141 would have to fly of course, but that's cause they were stationed in Urzikstan at the moment.

Price mentioned it offhandedly to Farah, planning to toss it out and never ever seeing that traitor again.

But Farah had smiled at him. "Oh! Yeah, Alex and I were going to go. I'm glad Phillip decided to invite you guys."

"Phillip? You guys are on first name basis now?"

She frowned at him, immediately looking displeased. "Price, remember what we talked about. We've been working together for a while now."

"You can't trust him."

"I never said I did. I simply ask you trust me." Farah huffed. "And I will be going to their outing. He does this with his closest Shadows often and Alex and I always have a nice time. Maybe you all need to come along. It might be good to clear the air since we will continue to work with each other."

Price really wished he could convince Farah to stop working with him, but if she insisted on doing so, he would be there. "Fine. I'll come."

The other three agreed to come immediately, not wanting Price to walk into an ambush, relatively, alone.

The plane ride was... uncomfortable to say the least.

Ghost was currently glowering at Alex who kept glancing over at him and grimacing. He'd sigh passive aggressively and Alex would turn around to glare at him back.

"And why are those two acting like jilted lovers?" Price aske Gaz and Soap.

"Oh, Alex said he and Graves had become friends and Ghost is made because the two of them and Alejandro are friends. He considers it a betrayal to their friendship." Gaz explained.

"Ah. Are you also upset, Soap? You did get shot."

Soap nodded. "Well. I am pissed. But with Makarov around, Graves helping Farah to fight him, and him betraying Shepherd to throw him under the buss, I'm trying to stay level headed about it."

It was a shockingly grounded take. Price wished he could do the same. Inside, the anger was too hot. Too volatile. He didn't know what it was about Graves that just got under his skin, but forgiveness wasn't on the table.

Honestly he wanted to just beat him into the ground. Hurt him like he had hurt Soap and Ghost in Los Almas. Like he had hurt the Vaqueros.

He felt like a rabid dog when he thought of it. Normally, he was so much better at keeping his emotions in check.

Farah patted him suddenly and he glanced up at her. "Do you want a drink, old man?"

"Yeah. I could use one." He stood up and followed her to the cabin. The plane used to be a private one, but it had been repurposed for Farah and her Freedom Fighters. It was better for long distances than a helicopter and it had better optics when they had to make speeches or talk with government operations.

Farah didn't keep much alcohol on board, but she did keep a thing of whiskey for the two of them to share. She poured them both a glass and he took it from her gratefully.

"I understand why you're upset."

"And I understand why you're working with him." Price interrupted. "I do. I promise. It's just an adjustment. Especially finding out you socialize with him."

"Mostly I socialize with Oz actually."

"Oz?"

"His second in command! He's great. Very cool. He's shown me how to play video games." Farah smiled so softly, almost like she was embarrassed.

Price smiled a little himself, thinking of Farah being... normal. She had fought for so long. Her entire childhood spent in hell. If she enjoyed spending time with this "Oz" guy, he must not be awful. "Okay. I'm going to give all of them a chance, alright?''

"Thank you, Price. I do appreciate it." Farah squeezed his arm. "Really. I hope we can all work amicably."

They settled back down with the others and rested for this rest of the plane ride.

The moment they touched down, Farah and Alex were quickly getting out. Price bit his tongue and hung back, the 141 one quickly following his lead, even though Gaz did glance at Alex and Alex did glance back.

"Try to play nice. No unnecessary fights." Price ordered, patting Gaz's back.

"Aye, Captain." Soap responded.

Ghost stayed very quiet, only giving the slightest nod.

"At ease."

They didn't really separate. Maybe it was unease at being on unfamiliar turf or the fact that they were all enemies.

Alejandro was smoking near his car, Rudy at his right. His body language shifted, relaxing at the same time the grin appeared on his face. "Hermanos!"

Soap smiled. "Alejandro, Rodolfo. Long time no see."

Alejandro grabbed his hand and pulled him into a hug. Soap did the same with Rodolfo.

Gaz nodded at them. "Colonel Vargas. Sergeant Major Parra."

"I feel we're on a first name by now, Sergeant Garrick." Rodolfo smiled at him. "Nice to see you again."

Alejandro nodded but jumped into business. "Our invitation said this was an... apology. You guy's mention anything about this?"

"No. Just an invitation."

"Interesting. Let's head inside."

The bar itself was full of people. It took Price a moment before he realized it, but, with the exception of the bartender, every person in the room was a Shadow. All of them were in civvies, but he recognized a few of them from chance in encounters. They all talked about their work with no issues.

Alex had a cowboy hat on. For some reason, this was something he noticed immediately. He was currently downing a pint, trying to drink it faster than a dark haired woman who was currently beating him.

Farah was chatting animatedly with a giant man with strange makeup on. HIs hair was set up a bit like a vikings would be. He was smiling at her and nodding excitedly.

Price didn't like it.

The giant man looked at him and quickly looked... embarrassed? It was an odd look on such a big man.

Farah followed his gaze and waved Price over. He quietly walked over, keeping an eye out on everyone. Most people were drunk or getting there so there weren't many threats.

Oz smiled at him, standing up. Price didn't like that he had to tilt his head up to look him in the eye.

"It is nice to meet you, Captain. You too, Colonel. The rest of you." Oz seemed unsure of himself.

"Oz, I'm assuming?"

"Yes, sir." Oz nodded.

Farah smiled. "We were talking about a game he showed me! It's called Terraria. It's so much fun!"

"Now, Osmond." There was that familiar accent. Graves was smiling, looking... stupidly casual. A flannel shirt, tight jeans, a belt buckle. A walking stereotype of American. "Please tell me you haven't converted Farah to your nerdy shit."

"Hey!" Farah defended him. "It's fun!"

Graves shook his head, a bright blush on his face from intoxication. "Whatever you say, ma'am." He looked at them. For a moment, he made eye contact with Price and it was like a lightning bolt. But then his eyes skipped right over to him to Alejandro. He took a deep breath. "It's nice to see you again, Colonel. And you, Sergeant Major."

"The feeling is not mutual."

Graves stepped a bit closer, on the very edge of his personal space. "Alright. Hit me."

Alejandro frowned.

"One free hit. Consider it the start of us getting even with each other. There's no guns in here. No one is going to stop you and I'm not going to hit you back. So, hit me."

Alejandro weighed his options for a split second before socking Graves so hard on the side of his jaw that Oz had to catch him before he stumbled.

Graves took a split second, blinking involuntary tears from his eyes. He faced him again. "Great. Your drinks are on us." Despite the freshly blooming bruise, he still managed a rather charming smile.

Alejandro shook his head but stepped back. Rudy didn't.

"Only fair I let you have one, yeah?" Graves smiled right before Rodolfo hit him hard in the stomach.

"Stay out of Los Almas." Rudy hissed to him.

"I was planning on it, amigo." Graves managed to straighten up after a minute. "You four aren't getting a hit."

"Gonna let me shoot you later?" Soap growled at him.

Graves laughed. "Nah. Have as many shots as you want though." He nodded at them and walked away, clearly hurting a little but playing it off.

Price ordered the most expensive whiskey available. He downed a shot, keeping an eye on Graves as he went to each table. His hands touched every Shadow's shoulder. It was a light touch but Price recognized it. He did the same thing when the 141 came back from missions. A light touch to let him know they were alive.

"John." Simon muttered. "How are we feeling?"

"I'm following the Colonel's lead. He seems to be trying to run up a tab. I'm going to do the same. Farah also seems... happy. A normal friendship outside of the military will be good for her. Or as close as this is."

Ghost nodded and sat next to him. They observed them for a good minute before Gaz slunk to Price's other side. Soap was mingling.

There was country music playing. It sounded modern, but Price didn't exactly listen to the genre. He sighed and ordered another whiskey, hoping to keep himself just drunk enough to relax but not so drunk he couldn't fight.

As the songs flipped through, Price got tipsy enough to mildly enjoy himself. His friends had left him at some point, not too far away, just around.

Something came on the radio and Graves climbed on to a table. The top few buttons of his shirt had been undone and he was panting a little bit.

"Turn that motherfucker off!"

"Come on, Graves it's just one song!"

"No! I've hated that motherfucker for ages and suddenly he wants to prounce around like a little bastard. That motherfuckers went to a fucking private school! Get his ass off my radio!" Graves hissed.

Price swallowed thickly. Maybe it was the whiskey, of which he was a few glasses down. Maybe it was the sudden anger and passion in his face. But he felt flushed from more than alcohol.

The next song, which sounded like a love ballad to him, seemed to please Graves who started to sing along. Despite the table being wooden, it held his weight as he stomped his boots on it. He smiled brightly as he did and someone handed him a whiskey bottle to drink during the chorus.

Price made eye contact with him and quickly glanced around to talk to his team.

HIs team which was not there.

Ghost and Simon had started to banter, making fun of people in the room despite never looking away from each other.

Gaz, who now had that cowboy hat on, had gotten swept up in Alex, the two of them currently dancing. Alex was a little out of step, his prosthetic leg probably making it harder.

Farah was now dancing with one of the pretty Shadows. The two of them twirling around.

Even Alejandro and Rodolfo were staring at each other, Rudy's hand was on Alejandro's chest.

Fuck. He didn't have anyone around.

Price looked back up at Graves who had looked away but somehow a few more of his buttons had come undone. His head tilted back, showing off a pretty neck. Fuck, his chest was heaving, breath puffing out of him.

They were making eye contact again. Graves licked his bottom lip and drank more of his whiskey.

Price got up and went to the bathroom. He took off his hat for a moment and splashed his face with water to try to sober up a little.

"Price." That fucking accent sounded from behind him. Maybe he should've hid in one of the stalls. But that would've felt juvenile.

"Graves." He looked in the mirror at him.

The man smiled. "Sorry if I'm interrupting. You alright?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I?" Price growled out, watching those red cheeks got redder.

Graves shrugged a little. "Don't know. Maybe I'm projecting on ya a little." He looked away, drinking more of the bottle.

"I'm angry."

"is it all at me?"

"No. Not just you." Price sighed and straightened up. He walked over until he was standing over him. Graves straightened up a little but he let Price take the bottle from his hand. His eyes followed his lips as he took a long drink.

Graves sighed. "Good?"

"Cheap tasting." Price tried to tease him, but it fell flat.

The pretty blue eyes peering up at him wouldn't let him go. It was infuriating. He found himself leaning down, lips pressing against Graves's, tasting the whiskey off of them. His tongue darted out to deepen it. For a blissful moment, his mouth opened up to let Price in.

Then he was turning away. "This isn't going to fuck up your team, is it?"

Price blinked and it was like reality slammed into him. "It is."

Graves smiled sadly. "John, I'd love to. But I'd be a right ass fucking up what you got going on. I think I've done enough damage."

"It'd feel great. God, I'd treat you right."

He laughed and Price felt his stomach clench. The rest of the whiskey bottle was slipped into his hand. They shared another kiss, tongues chasing each other.

"If you're sober, and still want to, go ahead and call me."

[captain-mj]

So the King Koenig (don't have german keys on my keyboard lol)?? With Horangi being his like?? Concubine I'm assuming since you said lover instead of husband?? Elaborate.

I said lover cause I hadn't decided, but let's go with concubine/courtesan <3

König hated peace meetings. Truly, he did. Right now the representative for the other side was rattling on and on, but they had a wandering gaze. It kept listing off to his right side where his lover was.

Horangi.

König looked at him and he couldn't blame the man for gazing. His mask was an elegant black shape with some red accents, covering the bottom half of his face. The hood on his robe had been pulled up to cover the rest of him, the only exception being his eyes. There was a gold collar around his pretty throat and gold bracelets on his wrists to signify that he was owned. Owned by König.

Despite being mostly covered, he was clearly a beautiful man. Beautiful dark eyes with such long eyelashes that fluttered every time he blinked.

"Should he be here?" They said softly, their displeasure clear.

"Why wouldn't he?"

"I don't believe we should bother a concubine with our discussions of politics."

König glanced at him, body tensing like a predator ready to pounce. For a glorious moment, he thought of ripping his jugular out. The man, despite his obvious chagrin, switched back to the topic at hand.

How dreadful. Was the poor man a eunuch? Could he not understand that after hours of this droll talk, he liked having handsome company to spend time with?

His mind started to wander to better things he could be doing. Like dragging Horangi to bed or kissing him or snuggling later.

As the meeting drew to close, the man asked him his thoughts. Only problem was König had tuned him out completely.

"One moment." He purred, trying not to let this guy know that. He tilted his head to Horangi who leaned up.

"Boils down to him getting a chunk of land for farming and you get access to a river we need to travel to the northern countries."

Another thing König loved about Horangi. He made things easy.

"I agree to the deal." König glared at the man. "I'll allow my advisors to talk over where the land is. I have more important matters to attend to." He got up and walked away, tugging Horangi by his hand.

Horangi moved quickly to his side to press into him. His arm went around Horangi's shoulders instead.

"My King, you really should pay more attention to things."

"It's boring." König groaned as he led them to his chambers. "I much prefer to have you do that. It interests you."

"Your advisors dislike your dependency on me. They believe I'm influencing you."

König pulled off his hood, loving the way Horangi's body instinctively relaxed and softened upon seeing his face. "Hong-jin, if you asked me to burn down every country I came across, I'd do it. I'd poison the rivers. Raze crops. Slaughter people." He kissed along his exposed wrists. "For your love, a kingdom seems small."

"I don't want that." Horangi chided. "I much prefer the violence you show in the field to the sadistic acts of a tyrant."

"Remind me to fight with my troops more." König sat back, treating the bed how he would a throne. His legs were open and his back straight. Power radiated off of him. It was all posturing, but it was undeniably effective.

Horangi slipped his robe off, leaving himself in just the jewelry. Besides the collar and bracelets, he did have necklaces and earrings in. Decorated. Along his hips were tattoos intertwined with scars that were made to resemble tiger stripes. His dark hair fell around his ears and spiked up, a mess from being put under a hood all day.

"Would you prefer if I rode you or should I lay down?" Horangi purred.

König swallowed. "Lay down for me."

Horangi slid past him and got on his knees, stretching and putting his ass on display for a moment before twisting and laying on his back.

König undid his belt, slowly sliding it from his loops. It hit the ground with a thud.

Horangi shivered a little and König wondered what he was thinking. The anticipation seemed to get to him as goosebumps broke out among his naked skin.

HIs shirt and pants fell on the ground not too long after. His giant hands ran along Horangi's inner thighs. "Beautiful."

Horangi smiled lazily. "My King, you know I don't like to wait."

"Not waiting. Savoring. There's a difference." He chided but he kissed him.

His legs wrapped around König's core and he rubbed against him, reveling in the skin against skin.

König held his legs open and got the special oil he kept specifically for Horangi. It smelled nice and it held heat easy. His fingers danced along his inner thighs until Horangi whined wordlessly. How could he continue to deny him when he sounded like that?

Carefully, he slid one of his fingers into his warm body. "So tight, Kätzchen. So small."

Horangi moaned and pushed back, desperate for it despite the burn. König put his hand on his lower back so he could feel Horangi roll his hips against him. Before long, he added another finger, loving the little mewls it got from him.

He reached deeper into him, stretching him out and preparing him thoroughly.

"Just put it in already." Horangi ordered, thrashing a little. "Want your cock. I don't need to be coddled."

"Prepped and coddled are very different things."

Horangi hissed at him and clawed at his shoulders. "Come on. Break me open. Don't you want to see me cry from it?"

König groaned. "Such a filthy mouth."

Horangi glowered before grinning viciously. "Fuck me like that representative wanted to. Fuck me like I'll finally shut up."

König flipped him over so his face was in the bed and yanked his hips up. With a smooth motion, he thrust into him, feeling more than hearing the squeak it forced out of Horangi. Despite Horangi's goading, he rocked into him to start, trying to make sure he wouldn't tear him.

The moment he was certain Horangi really could handle it, he pulled out until just the tip was in before shoving himself all the way back in. He grabbed him and forced him to bend further, sliding in as deep as he could.

"Just like that, 애인. Just like that." Horangi moaned sweetly, trying his best to get closer. His hand reached down and pressed at his lower stomach, intensifying the pressure for both of them.

König was a machine in bed. He didn't stop, didn't falter. He pulled all the way out every time, only occasionally stopping to grind into Horangi's prostate to get a few mewls out before going back to his thrusting.

His lips pressed against Horangi's shoulders and back, loving him dearly. His Horangi.

He switched his grip to instead pull him up and to his chest, thrusting up and into him.

Horangi clenched when he was deep inside, trying to please König. Pleasure sparked through him each time he could feel him bare down.

His thrusts sped up as he started to get close. "This what you wanted? Learn your place yet?"

Horangi nodded quickly and pressed further into him. "Just like that. I love you."

"I love you too." König whispered to him, stroking Horangi slowly. Horangi came hard and the fluttering of his tight hole dragged König over the edge. "I love you. I love you so much. My stars. My love. My heart."

Horangi bit into König's arm, tightening his grip as König fucked him through both of their orgasms. His legs had a slight tremble in them when he finally went limp and satisfied.

[captain-mj]

I've literally never written slowburn before in my life but I'm thinking of writing it for this idea. Am I mentally ill enough to write it is the only question

Soulmate au where the first words that your soulmate speaks to you are written on your wrist, but Soap is so used to hearing “The sergeant�� From people That he’s not going to jump at the words anymore and Ghost who just heard “Let’s get ourselves a win, LT” For the first time

[captain-mj]

PriceGraves au? Price who got kicked out of the military and switches to being bodyguard/hitman and Graves who still owns Shadow company and keeps hiring him despite having plenty of people he could use instead

[captain-mj]

You’re speaking my language! He regularly listens to Carrie Underwood and Miranda Lamberts song, Something Bad About to Happen, every mission

Im back on my “Graves likes country music” thoughts with evidence

If he listens to it, he can call Price honey bee after hearing Honey Bee by Blake Shelton and Price is confused but likes it

Regularly plays it on missions, i mean look at him

Is from the south, I’ve never met someone the south that didn’t have some relationship with Carrie Underwood’s music

Listens to 9-5 by Dolly Parton, he told me so

Believes he’s the Cowboy Casanova from the one song

Has a cowboy hat, there’s literally pics of Warren Kole wearing one, that’s basically proof

It makes me happy because i like country music

There’s so much more, I’m happy to make a continuation

[captain-mj]

Soulmate au where the first words that your soulmate speaks to you are written on your wrist, but Soap is so used to hearing “The sergeant” From people That he’s not going to jump at the words anymore and Ghost who just heard “Let’s get ourselves a win, LT” For the first time

[captain-mj]

Your last love potion.... Amazing. Chefs kiss. Cherry on top. Dot on the i (German saying for really good)

I'm really glad you like it! This chapter is a little short, ngl

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Roach waited all night for Soap and Ghost to return. The soup he had made would break the love potion over time, but it would be a hard process. Ghost would likely have to be restrained. 

His basement had already been changed to be a little more accommodating. Soap was nervous about this part of the plan, but Roach had insisted they had to. They’d have to make sure he didn’t get sick and that he kept taking the doses to get rid of the love potion. 

Finally, around 4 am, he could hear them. 

“Let me buy you something to eat.”

“Fuck off, MacTavish. I doubt Gary is awake.”

“He wakes up early to bake bread. Please.” Soap sounded… remorseful? Did something happen?

Ghost sighed. “I am hungry. Alright.” 

Roach smiled brightly and got up. He poked his head out of his basement, waving to get their attention. His head tilted to invite them in and, without question, they both followed him. 

In his basement, he had set up a bed that was big enough for Ghost, a few chains that were lying limp on the floor, and a chair for them to sit with him. 

Roach made a bowl of soup for him and handed it to him right away. “Don’t discount it, Gary. Soap is paying.” Pulling up the lower part of his knight’s helmet just enough to eat, Ghost grinned cruelly at MacTavish before sipping the soup. “It’s good.” He went to leave, but Roach stopped him. 

Roach made a motion for him to sit down as he fixed another bowl. 

Ghost hesitated, glaring at Soap, but he did sit down. He devoured the food, clearly very hungry. 

Roach frowned at him and gently put his hand on his shoulder. Simon stopped eating to look at him. 

“Are you okay?” 

Simon grimaced and nodded. He sipped at the broth, not noticing the herbs mixed in. Poor thing probably thought it just tasted good. 

Johnny picked at the soup, knowing he shouldn’t eat much of it. When Simon handed his bowl to Gary, Johnny slipped the bowl into Simon’s hands. “I don’t really like it.” 

Gary glared at him but Simon quickly grabbed the bowl. “Picky bastard.” He finished the second bowl and went to stand up, almost immediately faltering. Ghost glanced at both of them and then the door, managing to be rather convincing as he started to walk away. 

Soap grabbed him rather gently and pulled him back, making him stumble. 

“Fuck off.” Simon hissed, hitting him as hard as he could which was barely a tap. 

Roach hummed. Around this time, the world would likely be melting. His muscles would feel weak. He helped Soap to gently put a whimpering Simon into bed. 

Then, selfishly, he took off his helmet to see his face. 

Simon glared at them but he could barely move. He grimaced and his mouth started moving, but nothing came out. 

Johnny frowned. “I’m sorry. Really. I promise we’re not going to hurt you.”

Roach thought he should speak for himself. 

Johnny hesitated. “He has some really bad wounds. Can you check them? We’ve been moving around the forest for hours. I’m worried they reopened.” 

Gary loved the idea of taking Simon’s clothes off. Despite Simon’s continued glares and his attempts to make this as difficult as possible, they got his gear and shirt off. 

Roach felt sick. 

He had expected a lot. But whip marks? He looked at Soap questioningly.

“Roba.”

Roach nodded and quickly started to reclean them. He placed his lips between Simon’s shoulder blades, feeling the harsh shudder he let out. With gentle hands, he bandaged him. 

Johnny knelt down in front of him and tried to soothe him. “I promise you, this is for your own good. We’re going to take care of you. Going to get rid of this love potion and set you free of everything. I promise.” 

Simon looked at him, hate evident. His body felt hotter to the touch and Roach would have assumed infection if he hadn’t just drugged him. 

Roach kicked Johnny’s foot to get his attention and signed to him. “He needs rest. He won’t be very lucid right now. It’s best you get an alibi in case they come asking.”

Johnny nodded and left immediately. 

Roach pulled up the chair and sat with him. 

Simon started to fall asleep despite his attempts not to. He shivered and shook as a fever started to ravage his body. 

Love potions were evil. They embedded themselves in the body and mind. Took forever to root out. 

Roach would sit there as long as Simon needed. He would take care of him. 

After a few hours, soldiers came asking but Roach just shook his head, miming that he couldn’t speak and then that he had no idea. The soldiers left after a while. 

Simon was too sick to do anything. He had started to shake and his fever had gotten worse. 

Roach made him more soup and felt his forehead to see his temperature. 

Simon groaned and stretched, several bones popping as he did. 

Roach shook his head. This recovery was going to take a while… Selfishly, he hoped just long enough for Ghost to fall in love with him.