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glossysoap · 1 year

Note

(A little angsty snippet I just thought of. Like a RTC au)

After about a year since your dissapearance, Gaz goes missing on a mission. One second hes there, telling the team he's cleared a building, the next his com is quiet, his weapons are on the floor and he's gone.

Simon and Johnny just completely crumble. It happened again. They let someone else that care for dissapear. Price shuts everyone out completely. Task Force 141 is in a dissaray, half their members gone, the remaining falling deeper and deeper into depression.

----

Gaz won't stop struggling against the multiple black clad men. Not until he sees you standing in the corner of the room. Dressed in a similar uniform, and a blank expression on your face, you're watching him. He freezes.

"Y/n..."

----

You visibly stiffen. You felt like you were hit with a truck. Memories of...this man popped in your head again and again. He knew you. You knew him! Eyes widening when he was shoved into the chair, you stepped forward and grabbed a doctor's wrist before he could start activating it. Your metal arm whirred and readjusted.

Then the room was plunged in chaos. You dodged arms and weapons and grabbed the man, yanking him out of the chair before quickly pulling him out of the room and rushing down the hall, heavy footsteps following closely behind

(I reached my creative limit, you can continue writing the scene lol. Does y/n and gaz get out? Do they get back to 141? Or do they get caught amd gaz is killed or trained to be a new soldier🤔🤔)

déjà vu ; ready to comply - verse

warnings/tags: this is a drabble so it won’t be perfect. gore, description of torture, weapons, maybe some inaccuracies when it comes to geography but this isn’t school so 🫣

notes: russian will be in bolded italics, and english translation will be in non bolded italics. chapter 10 of rtc is coming soon i promise i promise i promise!! hopefully this is enough to tide you over in the meantime.

this isn’t canon in the ready to comply fic. here’s the fic itself that you’ll need to read in order to understand.

word count: 4,000+

playlist: i was all over her - salvia palth, digital silence - peter mcpoland.

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Ten months had passed since you were captured.

Winter had changed to Spring, the snow that stuck to the grass had melted away. Flowers bloomed in their absence. The sun was blinding, almost mockingly so — how could it be so bright and light when you were dead? Shouldn’t it be dark and gloomy? Full of thunderstorms and howling wind?

Spring had changed to Summer, bringing sweltering heat and humid air. There was a pool available for marine training on base, so it was always utilized for anyone to cool off if desired. When the base was stricken with heat waves, you could always be found in that pool. Sporting a swimsuit in your favorite color, keeping yourself afloat by resting your elbows on the edge of the concrete behind you. You would just relax in the cool water, legs swaying in the natural current created by other swimmers. You would lean your head back and close your eyes, basking in the refreshing cold instead of the sweltering heat.

That summer after your disappearance death, though? It couldn’t be more different.

It was full with recruits and some soldiers, looking to cool off from the hot temperatures. You weren’t in the pool, enjoying the cool water and relaxing, without the stress of assignments. You were no where to be found.

Soon, Summer had turned to Fall. Leaves changed colors before falling off of the trees from which they were hanging. The green foliage would turn into shades of orange and red. The sweltering temperatures would finally change into a pleasant chill. People would bundle up, but not to an overwhelming or inconvenient degree — just a light jacket would do.

Fall was always your favorite season. You enjoyed the weather, as it wasn’t snowing just yet, but it definitely wasn’t full of heat waves anymore.You especially enjoyed the little things. You enjoyed layering your jackets and wearing boots. You enjoyed the taste of warm apple cider or hot chocolate on a particularly chilly night. You enjoyed the feeling of curling up in front of a fire, bundled up in a blanket (that you would never admit was stolen from Soap and Ghost).

Soap and Ghost knew it all too well, how the chilly season was your favorite.

They would always see you sipping on your hot drinks while you worked on your reports, your lips quirked up at the edges as you savored the sweet taste. Ghost would notice when your eyes searched your room for your favorite jacket, then your eyes would brighten when you see him retrieving it for you. He always knew where it was, miraculously. Sometimes, he would even catch you before you put it on yourself, and he would come up behind you and put the jacket on for you. He would be so gentle, pulling the sleeves on each arm and making sure the jacket was on comfortably. He would make sure to adjust the collar when he faced you, taking note of your wide eyes and flustered gaze under his attention.

On particularly chilly nights, Soap would notice how you blew air into your hands to warm them up. He would jog over to you and offer you his jacket to wear, and have you stuff your hands in the pockets. When he was feeling more bold, he might unzip his jacket and gesture for you to walk over to him, before enveloping you in his big arms and the jacket at the same time.

(….)

Soon, it was November 2020. Ten months since you had been captured. Ten months since a cloud of darkness settled on the task force. Ten months since a hole was carved into the hearts of Soap and Ghost.

The 141 was stationed in Moscow to investigate a potential terrorism threat, with their plane five minutes from touching down.

“Let’s go over the plan again. Ghost and Soap, you’ll be providing air support from the neighboring buildings. Gaz and myself with be inside, gathering intel and clearing the building. All clear?” Price’s voice echoed throughout the aircraft.

All of the men nodded.

(….)

The building was quiet, Gaz noticed. Too quiet.

He could hear the floorboards creak under his boots with every step he took. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears as he held his rifle, pointing the weapon forward in case he came across any hostile.

The scope light on his rifle illuminated the dark, dusty hallway.

He kicked open door after door, peering inside the rooms and scanning for any hostiles or hostages. Rifle raised and ready to empty a magazine into any enemy soldier that enters his sights.

After fifteen minutes, Gaz had cleared the first five floors of the building of any hostiles. He had also found multiple documents detailing the future plans of the terrorist group.

He only had one more floor to clear. The penthouse.

Every room on the last floor was ransacked. Desks rummaged through, papers strewn about and blood splattered on the walls. The flickering light fixtures had fallen from the ceiling and were now dangling from exposed wires.

Every other room had a dead body or two in it, blood pooling around their bodies and intestines spilling from their guts. Gaz could guess how long some people had been dead for by the rotting stench that flowed through the room, and how their skin had lost any warmth or color.

Nevertheless, he still stepped into every room and skimmed through the papers and yanked open the desk drawers, hoping to find any intel worth using.

In a few rooms, he found files that may bring the task force to new leads. The files ranged from coordinates to details on dirty politicians. He slipped the files into his backpack before zipping it shut.

He quickly finished clearing that floor and reached to click on his radio, clicking until he was tuned into the task forces radio.

“Bravo 2-6 to Bravo 0-6. All clear. Ready for evac—,” Gaz was interrupted by a soft thud behind him, before a needle pinched his neck. He turned around to see who had ambushed him, but his vision went black before he could make anyone out.

At the sound of Gaz’s radio abruptly cutting out, Price’s brows furrowed as his hand reached for his radio.

“You’re cutting out, Sergeant. Repeat your last.”

Static. No response. Nothing but static.

Hearing the conversation, Soap and Ghost looked at each other as a feeling of dread washed over them.

Something wasn’t right.

(….)

Their feelings of dread were confirmed when they arrived on the penthouse floor. What they saw was Price kneeling in front of Gaz’s combat gear and weapons, all strewn across the floor.

But Gaz was gone. Nowhere to be found.

(….)

The next day, Kyle gasped awake, eyes wide and darting around to scan his surroundings. He was being dragged by two soldiers, dressed in all black and faces completely covered with masks. Heavily armed with assault rifles and tasers — all weapons that were second nature to him. But seeing those soldiers so heavily armed only served to remind him that he was completely unarmed himself. He had no gear to protect himself from injuries either.

Speaking of injuries, if the pain radiating from his shins were anything to go by, whoever captured him must have sprained them. They also felt raw and inflamed, like they were scraped.

Not only was he unarmed and stripped of any combat gear, but his muscles felt numb and sluggish. It was as if his body lost circulation and needed to be shaken for the pins and needles feeling to go away.

His legs were heavy as his feet dragged along the floor. If those soldiers weren’t dragging him from his underarms, he surely would’ve collapsed onto the floor by now. His mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

He must’ve been drugged.

He was being dragged down a hallway with grey walls and flickering lights, concrete floors that were stained with blood and waste. He could smell the metallic scent and the pungent smell of ammonia with every breath he took.

Screams echoed through the hallway and sent a chill down his spine. The screams came from men and women, even children. All at the top of their lungs, no doubt leaving their throats raw. Some of the people even screamed for help.

As each scream and wail hit his ears, his breath quickened and his heart raced with panic. He needed to get out of here.

It took every bit of willpower in his body and every cell of strength, but he started thrashing in the soldiers’ grasp. His muscles burned as they awoke, jolting his nerves with every movement he made — but he persisted nonetheless.

He kicked and screamed in an effort to escape from their hold but to no avail. All it did was make the soldiers’ huff in frustration and jerk him forward, still dragging his body like a ragdoll down that hallway.

After a minute, the soldiers reached a metal door. It was engraved with crimson octopus with a skull for a head. The tentacles of the octopus spanned out around the skull, almost in a perfect circle. Rust and dirt lined every crevice of the insignia, from the eye sockets of the skull to the suction cups on each tentacle.

The door was metal and had multiple locks and latches, as well as a keypad. It was also equipped with a fingerprint scanner and retina scanner.

Without releasing Kyle from his grip, one of the soldiers used one hand to key in a code and press his thumb against the scanner. He then pulled his mask down in order for his retina to be scanned.

The door opened with a creak.

Once the door was opened, the two soldiers dragged Gaz into a room filled with other soldiers. The room was filled with security cameras, headlamps, and medical equipment. A chair was in the middle of the room, with a couple of doctors stationed next to it.

Gaz’s wide eyes darted around the room nervously, looking at every threat and accessing the situation. He was desperate to find any means of escape.

As his eyes went from soldier to soldier, doctor to doctor, they landed on a face that made his breath catch in his throat. One that he hasn’t seen in nine months.

Yours.

He freezes in shock. He felt like he was hallucinating at the sight of his friend standing there, alive, when you had been assumed dead for nearly a year.

You stood across from him on the opposite side of the room, leaning against the wall. Your gaze was cold and calculated as you stared at his thrashing figure. Your (eye color) eyes didn’t hold any emotion or recognition, nor did the rest of your face. Your jaw was clenched and your lips were pressed together. Your brows were relaxed and your head was held high. Your (insert hair texture) hair was kept out of your face with (braids or hair tie).

The more his eyes lingered on you, the more changes he noticed.

You had gained a substantial amount of muscle since the last time he saw you. Before you were captured, you had the muscle build of a civilian — someone who wasn’t trained in the special forces.

Now? You looked like you had skyrocketed past basic training and could easily hold your own against any of the task force.

Your face was now littered with scars, lines of raised and blistered skin left behind from missions and training. All the marks of a worthy asset.

Some scars healed jagged and some healed straight. Some were still fresh and inflamed, others were old and already healed completely. One started above your left eyebrow and cut straight through, almost slashing your eye but just missing it. Another started underneath your right eye and spanned across the bridge of your nose, then ending under your left eye. Another started just below your right cheekbone, slashing down past your jaw and ending at your jugular. Another scar started right above your upper lip and slashed through your lip, before continuing down to your chin in perfect symmetry. The scar tissue on your upper lip puckered, leaving your mouth almost in a permanent snarl.

The scar that made Gaz’s eyes water was the nasty slash that spanned all the way around your neck, in a perfect circle. Little slits decorated that nasty slash, marking the slash every few inches.

Gaz’s eyes widened as the realization hit him, of what caused that scar. Barbed wire.

Your nose was crooked as if it was broken over and over, before healing incorrectly.

He also noticed how similar your clothes were to the soldiers’ attire. You wore black cargo pants that were equipped with thigh holsters on each leg, one holding a hand gun and the other holding a tactical knife. Your kneecaps were protected by leather knee pads. You were wearing black combat boots as well.

You wore a black leather jacket and a black tactical vest, straps buckled on your chest. The jacket was long sleeved only on your right arm, but completely sleeveless on your left arm — revealing your metal prosthetic arm.

Gaz gasped at the sight of the metal arm in place of where your flesh used to be.

“..(Y/N)?”

You visibly flinch at the man’s words, eyes widening as images flashed through your brain. The laughs that burned themselves into your memory were now echoing through your mind. It was as if a puzzle piece fit back into place.

“You’re the new medic, right?” A voice came from your right, all young and British. You looked up from your medical instruments to see a soldier jogging towards your station. He had darker skin and kinky hair that was cut very short. His eyes were a warm brown framed by thick lashes, and his smile felt infectious. He was sporting a light blue button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He wore tan tactical gear, complete with a tan bulletproof vest and tan cargo pants. A patch of the United Kingdom’s flag was velcroed onto his vest, matching the hat he sported as well.

“Right you are, Sergeant. Y/N L/N at your service,” You joked as you held your hand out for him to shake, meeting his soft yet calloused hand with yours.

“Please, call me Gaz. It’s nice to have someone to keep us from killin’ ourselves out here.” He grinned, eyes crinkling at the corners.

You were pulled out of your memory by the sound of the man, of Gaz, shouting.

“Get the fuck off me!” He shouted, thrashing in the soldiers’ grip as they tried pulling him over to the chair. The same chair you were shackled to ten months prior. The same chair where you witnessed your own arm being torn off, your muscles shredded and bone splintered off.

With that thought in mind, suddenly something switched. You wouldn’t let anything happen to him. You wouldn’t let any harm come to the one fragment of your past life that you can remember.

You pushed off of your position on the wall and charged at them, without an ounce of hesitation. Even as doctors and other soldiers around you called your serial number, or demanded that you stand down, you ignored them all.

Except, three guards already began advancing on you. You didn’t waste any time in taking them out.

The first tried to strike you with a taser baton to incapacitate you but you easily dodged him, elbowing him in his throat before kicking his shin and sending him to his knees. The next two tried taking you on at the same time. You started by punching one in the throat and sending him coughing to the floor, which let you take on the other guard. You grabbed his neck with your metal hand and brought his head down to meet your kneecap, a loud crack hitting your ears. He bounced off of your knee and fell back on the concrete floor, blood flowing from his nose and mouth.

The first guard was scrambling to his feet so you pulled a knife from your holster and threw it at him, hitting him square in the neck. His carotid artery began spewing blood as he fell back to the floor, gurgling as blood trickled from his mouth.

You gazed upon every other soldier and doctor in the room, assessing whether they were a threat anymore. They were all wide eyed and skittish, and some had even stepped backward.

You were now able to set your sights on one of the men holding Gaz. You used your metal arm to grip his throat and you squeezed. Only a few seconds passed before he let your friend out of his clutches. The cold steel of your hand almost crushed his windpipe as you dragged him by his throat to stand in front of you — acting as your human shield.

The second that the HYDRA soldier was in front of you, you snaked that metal arm around his neck to keep him in your grasp. You used your other hand to reach into your holster and grab your handgun.

The other soldier that was holding Gaz dropped him instantly, letting him fall to the floor. Thankfully, the drugs had worn off long enough so he had regained feeling in his muscles. His knees were still aching but aside from that, he was able to move. Your friend wasted no time in scrambling up from the floor and limping to stand behind you.

The soldier in your hold was squirming and thrashing in your grip, but due to your genetic enhancement, his struggle was useless.

You pointed the gun at any soldier or doctor who dared to step towards you and your friend. Your eyes darted to every soldier and doctor in this room, with your eyes narrowed and teeth bared.

Almost daring them to challenge the very weapon that they created.

“Вы не тронете его.” You will not touch him. You growled, before emptying a round into everyone else in the room.

(….)

The second that you left that room, you told Kyle to take the soldiers’ assault rifle while you were still using him as a human shield. You tossed your own handgun to the floor as it was empty, and pulled out a similar gun from your human shield’s holster.

“I’ll lead, you cover me from behind.” You murmur as the two of you began sprinting down the hallway.

“Roger.” He nodded without hesitation.

You knew the guards rotation patterns and schedules like the back of your hand after being kept here for so long, so you knew that the hallway would be clear except for two guards at the very end of the hallway.

Once you neared the end of the hallway, you motioned for Kyle to stand behind you.

You approached the two soldiers and they quickly started shouting when they noticed you using a soldier as a shield. You aimed your gun at them and tightened your hold on the soldier in your grasp at the same time.

The soldier in your grip began coughing and gasping for breath, clawing at your metal arm. At the sight of their fellow soldier suffocating, the two soldiers raised their hands in surrender.

But you didn’t release the human shield.

You emptied a round into the two soldiers, letting blood splatter the walls and enjoying the sounds of their cries of pain as bullets tore through their flesh.

You enjoyed watching as their bodies crumpled to the floor in a pitiful pile, their intestines spilling out of their stomachs. One of the soldiers even whimpered at the sight of his organs spilling out.

You knew he was feeling nauseous looking at the red flesh and muscle tissue, mixed with blood clots and plasma.

“Не слишком хорошо, не так ли? Смотреть, как твое собственное тело разрывают на части?” Doesn’t feel too good, does it? Watching your own body get torn apart? You spat.

You yanked your metal arm and heard a sickening crack as you snapped the human shields neck like a twig. You tossed his corpse to the ground next to the two others.

“You alright? Ready to go?” Gaz spoke up beside you, still holding the assault rifle. You could feel his eyes on you as you knelt down and took any of their handguns, ammo, knives and grenades.

“Yes and yes.” You muttered, kicking the corpses aside before punching in a code to the keypad which unlocked the doors.

When you kicked the door open, you saw that there were no guards in this hallway — just like you expected.

The two of you wasted no time sprinting for the set of stairs leading to the exit hatch.

Once you reached the hatch, you keyed in the exit code. The metal creaked as you easily pushed the hatch open, letting light pour into the stairway.

You and Gaz stepped out of the bunker before you pushed the hatch door closed with a clank.

Once the hatch door was closed and locked, you turned to look at Gaz who was already staring at you in disbelief. Taking in all of your enhancements and changes, let alone the fact that you were still alive.

He was about to open his mouth to ask you, were you really okay? Why was your arm replaced with a prosthetic instead of simply repaired?Most importantly, how were you alive?

But before he could, you spoke, “Can you walk?” You nodded towards his injured legs.

He glanced down and almost nodded before realizing that he couldn’t possibly limp all the way to a boat or plane, then all the way to the base.

He looked back up at you with a sigh and shook his head.

“No problem.” You shrugged before cupping the back of his knees with one arm and holding his back with another arm. Without breaking a sweat, you lifted him up off the ground and into a bridal carry. He yelped and wrapped his arms around your neck.

“Take the gun and keep it to cover us, just in case.” You ordered, receiving a nod in response.

From there, you ran away from the bunker while you carried him in your arms. Gaz pointed the rifle behind you and scanned your surroundings to ensure you weren’t being followed.

Orange leaves crunched beneath your boots as you ran, and the pleasant wind blew against your cheeks.

A few minutes passed as you made the trek from the bunker all the way to the shore. From hills, to valleys and finally the docks.

When the wooden docks came into your sights, you slowed down to a jog before carefully setting your friend down. He winced when his feet hit the floor, but continued providing cover for you nonetheless.

You scanned the docks for a moment before you finally landed on a miracle; a motorboat that was tied to the dock. Your face split into a rare grin as you reached to pat Kyle on the chest, without taking your eyes off of the boat.

“There’s our ticket out of here.”

(….)

Twenty two hours later, you had approached the docks of Seoul. Luckily, the motorboat was full on fuel and stocked with water, so your journey to safety wasn’t as bad as it could be.

The two of you stepped out of the motorboat and made it to solid ground on the wooden docks. Gaz cracked his joints and stretched, letting out a sigh of relief.

“How are you feeling?” You asked, eyeing your friend up and down.

“Better. Mostly just hungry and homesick.” He replied while gathering any supplies from the motorboat.

“We’ll hitch a ride on a plane and there’s going to be food there.” You told him, scoping out the nearby civilian life and storefronts. “Where am I taking you?”

His brows furrowed in confusion.

“Back to the boys..?” He trailed off, as if it was self explanatory.

You quirked a brow.

“Who?” You asked.

His eyes widened in realization. You remembered him, but you didn’t remember the rest of the 141. You didn’t remember your life with them either.

“It’s nothing. Just England is fine, then I can take the lead from there.” He forced a smile.

You noticed his air of unease but nodded anyway.

The two of you abandoned the boat and headed towards the town, carrying the supplies and weapons with you.

Once you entered the town, you had found a directory with a map on it. On the map, it showed where the nearest airport was. Luckily for both of you, it was close by with only a few miles on foot.

The two of you made the trek to the airport in good time, weaving your way through the crowds in order to enter the building.

On the way to the schedule board, you passed a gift shop. You peeked inside to find it empty, as the employees were away from the shop. You saw a duffel bag that looked perfect for carrying all of your supplies, and you made quick work of snagging it and shoving everything in it.

You and Gaz headed towards the flight schedule board, where you could see a scheduled flight for England would be boarding in half an hour.

Right next to you, you heard a family speaking in obnoxious British accents, arguing over their travel plans. You assumed that they were vacationing in Seoul and about to return home to England. They were arguing so fervently that none of them noticed as the mother dropped some things from her purse. Two of the items being tickets. You also spotted a couple of pounds. Your lips quirked into a smirk as you hatched a plan.

You could feel Gaz’s eyes on you as you walked up to the family, a faux sweet grin painted on your face.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you two, but I noticed that you dropped your phone, ma’am.” You picked it up, along with the two tickets and the money, and gave the woman her phone with a polite grin.

“Oh, you’re an angel!” She fawned, her red lips stretched into a smile. She waved at you and pocketed her phone, before turning back to continue arguing with her family.

You turned to Gaz and gave him a peek of the tickets and the cash before shoving them in your pocket.

Gaz raised his brows, impressed.

With some stroke of luck, the two of you managed to slip past security. After that, you didn’t waste any time jogging to the boarding area. You two then waited in line to hand your tickets to the receptionist.

Luckily, the names on the tickets were believable to be your actual names, as the woman smiled and sent you two on your way.

You returned the smile before grabbing Kyle’s hand and all but dragging him through the hallway that led to the plane.

You and Kyle glanced at each other with relief once you sat in your seats.

(….)

The flight to the United Kingdom lasted thirteen hours.

You had wanted to stay awake for the entire flight so that he could sleep, but he insisted on you sleeping for the first six hours while he stayed awake. Then he would sleep for the next seven hours, and you would stay awake.

Sleep came way too easily for you. Maybe it was because even a plane seat was more comfortable than the small cot in your cell. Whatever the reason was, you weren’t complaining.

When you were awake, you took any food that you were offered, no matter if it was just some peanuts or a plain sandwich. It was better than the slop or the protein shakes that you were used to.

Once the flight landed, you gently shook Gaz’s shoulder to wake him up. He mumbled something incoherent as he awoke, before stretching and letting out a yawn.

The two of you stood up and you reached to get your duffel bag from the overhead luggage area. You let Gaz lead the way down the stairs of the plane and out to the terminal.

Gaz flagged down a cab with a raise of his fingers and the two of you piled into the car, your luggage sitting on your lap.

He told the driver a random location, one that pricked the back of your mind and made you wince in pain.

It was so familiar but so not familiar at the same time.

You tried to shake it off as you clenched your eyes shut, leaning your head back against the headrest in an attempt to quell the pain.

Before you knew it, the car came to a halt. You opened your eyes and saw Gaz thanking the driver. You reached into your pocket and pulled out all of the cash you stole, before handing it to the driver. You didn’t know if it was too much or too little, but by the excited nature of the driver, you could guess that it was too much.

The two of you climbed out of the vehicle and shut the doors behind you, watching as the cab pulled away.

You turned to see where you were dropped off, only to be hit with an onslaught of shocks radiating in your brain.

The two of you were standing in front of the military base belonging to the 141. You didn’t know who it belonged to, nor did you care. You just knew that it was way too familiar and also too alien at the same time.

The big walls of the base resembled a fortress, the familiar brown and green colors of the building sending shocks to your heart.

You could feel your heart pounding in your ears and your breath quicken as you noticed more familiar features.

The security outside. The big double doors. The military vehicles parked outside.

Your ears rang and your vision blurred. This was too much, too much, too much.

You could only feel Gaz’s hand pulling you along, all the way to the curb and to the double door entrance. He only stopped for a moment, to allow the security camera to grant him access.

(….)

One day after Gaz disappeared, the team landed in the United Kingdom.

Simon and Johnny had resorted to staying in their quarters, mourning one of their only friends. Gaz’s disappearance also reminded them of your disappearance ten months earlier, which ultimately resulted in your death.

The two men usually laid in their bed, nestled in each others arms and gripped each other tight. Price was the only person they had left besides each other, and even he was isolating himself from everyone.

The captain took Gaz’s disappearance the worst. He blamed himself for not being on the same floor as him the entire time. He could have taken out any threats while Kyle raided the rooms for intel. He should have done that. Gaz would still be here if he did.

Even worse, Kyle’s disappearance served to remind Price of your disappearance. Your screams echoed in his head, even after all this time. Knowing that you had sunk to the ocean floor and died a cold and lonely death after being swiped right from under their noses only made Price spiral.

He imagined Gaz being hurt just like you were. Stabbed, bones cracked, and drowned.

Price had taken to isolating himself in his office, cutting off any contact with Simon or Johnny. Even Laswell.

The three men not only had to mourn one of their best and brightest soldiers and their best friend, but they also had to mourn you all over again.

What was the point to completing missions if the team would get smaller and smaller each time? What was the point of staying a team if there was barely any team left?

(….)

A few days after his disappearance, what remained of the task force was still mourning their lost soldier.

Simon and Johnny had only left their room to meet Price in the conference room. The meeting was called in relation to disbanding the task force, due to the loss of half of their members.

It was on the first floor, so they walked to the elevator closest to their room.

Simon pressed the button leading to the bottom floor and leaned against the wall of the elevator, threading his hand with Johnny’s as the door shut.

The two men stepped out of the elevator and saw Price waiting outside of the conference room, throwing him a nod of acknowledgment.

The three men were about to walk into the conference room when a buzzing sound caught their attention. It was the same buzzing sound that rang out when the receptionist let someone inside the base.

Because the entrance was right across from the conference room, the three men could easily see who was coming in.

When they saw their teammate who they thought was dead, they all gasped in disbelief. Price’s eyes pricked with tears at the sight of his protégé alive and well. Soap and Ghost let out a relieved sigh at the sight of one of their only friends safe and sound. It was as if their feet moved on autopilot with how they were already running to meet Gaz at the front door.

“No- don’t leave!” They heard Gaz plead to someone that they couldn’t see.

Gaz pushed the door open further, thus revealing who he was talking to. If seeing Gaz made the boys gasp in disbelief, seeing you standing right in front of them damn near took their breath away.

You froze when the door opened all the way. Your eyes darted from the bearded man with tears in his eyes, to the man who wore a skull mask and glossed over brown eyes, to the man with the same cerulean eyes you had dreamt about.

“(Y/N)?”

©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

#glossywrites; ready to comply⛓#cod x y/n #cod x you #call of duty #cod modern warfare #soap mw2 #ghost mw2 #mw2 x reader #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #simon riley x reader

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missggullet · 1 year

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If Bat is short for Batthew then what Flappy is short for??

#Flappington.#His name is Flappy short for Flappington #I don't care if that'll cost me 6 plus years in real time and 50 stuck in this damned painting I love my son.#I never told Agatha and she wouldn't have given a flying imp about it #Anyone who comes more or less close to my painting will know #Even you Hardbroom.#AND YOU MILDRED HUBBLE WRETCHED TADPOLE.#*//i might sorta lose a few followers or gain some after this its the shitpost russian roulette*//#*//she's on a roll the day i got class 😔 somebody help*//#*//those years stuck in that trap is taking a toll on her matured brain now its verging on miss tapioca's Samhain pudding*//#*//dispense her and the mun a few prayers my frogs 💚*//#{not rp meme}#{ooc post}#shitpost #meme #miss gullet #flappy

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straykidshoe · 9 months

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Show a little loving

PAIRINGS: Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

GENRE: Mature (Smut)

MUSIC: Lovers by Anna of the north

CONTAINS: established relationship

SMUT WARNINGS: dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, sub!reader, dom!bang chan, oral (m recieving), dirty talk, cock-warming. please message me if i misseed anything.

WORD COUNT: 1,963

A/N: Reposting from my deactiated account! I'll just be re-uploading everything so that I can (sort of) continue where I left off (if you knew me before I deleted my account, haha)

You finally finish your own practise at around 9pm, luckily both of your building’s were close together and it was only a brisk 5 minute walk. So, you picked up 2 some bubble tea’s from the corner shop and walked up to Chan’s studio- as you approached the opaque glass door you could hear a beat streaming through. Slowly you opened the door, peeking your head in, you saw him sitting on his chair- head bent backwards with the music blaring through the two speakers on either side of the many monitors set up.

Creeping behind him you made sure to leave the two drinks in your hand on the table that was placed by the sofa, bringing your hands up to cup over his eyes you bent down to his ear and whispered,

‘Guess who?’

‘Han?’ He smiled when he answered- the patented dimple shining through.

You bit his ear slightly, ‘No genius.’

‘Hi baby..’ he sighed contently, his hands coming over yours, guiding them down until you could see his eyes.

You walked around to stand in front of him, you watched at he brought his head back up, audibly cracking the bones. You winced slightly,

‘What’s up?’ He said, circling his large arms around your waist.

‘Missed you..’ You stroked his hair, scratching at the scalp, ‘I brought boba?’

He let out a breathy laugh onto your exposed stomach, ‘I actually love you’

‘I know you do.’ You laughed as you tried to pry his arms from around your stomach, ‘Babe, I kinda need to move..’

‘Mmm..no’ His muffled voice returned.

‘Fine, i’ll just have to drink your boba.’ you threated as you made one last attempt to wriggle free.

He loosed his grip, but twisted around in his chair to watch you bend down into the bag and grab the two cups, just as you were about to stand up- you heard him hum appreciatively,

‘Just stay like that for a second..’

You laughed as you walked back to him, sitting onto his lap, handing him the large plastic cup,

‘Thanks baby’ you watched his face morph into delight when he sucked on the straw,

‘Mhhh, what’s the flavour?’

‘I think, strawberry tea with tapioca pearls..'

‘It’s so good thank you,’ He kissed your cheek and lips- you could tell he was trying to be chaste.

You kissed back with more passion, coaxing him, you could feel him breathing hard as his tongue swiped over you lips- asking for permission. You pulled back quickly, smiling when you saw his ears turn pink,

‘Don’t you have work to do?’ You wiggled on his lap, holding your identical cup in both hands, ‘I’ll be here’

He growled at you playfully,

‘You’re gonna pay for that’

‘Sure I will,’ A mischievous lilt in your voice.

He laughed but swivelled back to face his monitors, slipping the headphones on he looked at you once and scoffed when he saw you contently sipping away at your drink. You looked up at him, and smiled from around the straw- hoping it would spark some memories, luckily it did as you saw his eyes turn dark and his breathing became heavier. Paying no attention to his dangerous stare you snuggled up to his chest, careful not to sit directly on where you knew he wanted you to.

A few hours later

You had finished your drink quickly and were now hugging Chan-koala bear style, your chin resting on his shoulder, headphones in whilst listening to whatever song was in your playlist- you honestly couldn’t be bothered about the songs when chan’s fingers were playing dragging up and down you bare legs, inching closer and closer to the hem of your flimsy gym shorts. You were sure that he wasn’t even paying attention to where his fingers were heading but either way you were getting more and more desperate for his touch,

‘Channie..’ you reached behind you and paused your music and took out your headphones, going back to your original position as you played with the loose strands of hair that curled slightly at the nape of his neck.

‘Hmm?’ His eyes did a quick glance at you and went back to the track displayed on the largest monitor in front of him.

You shifted, perching yourself right on top of his now semi-hard cock, ‘Are you done yet?’ slowly you started grinding yourself on the material of his short, aching to feel him drag against your walls.

He looked down at you again, taking in how your head was now lulled lazily against his shoulder, your hands still playing with his hair- but your hips..God your hips, he could feel you slowly grinding them against him, ‘Baby..I need to finish this one track..’ he smiled down at you and laughed when he saw your needy pout,

‘But channie~’ You whined, Jesus how much does this man work?

‘Aw, is my baby needy for my cock?’ he cooed down at you, smiling softly as you nodded - tucking your head into the crook of his neck when your whole face turned red. He could feel your hips start to press down onto his dick, and it was only a matter of time until he was going to burst,

‘Ok baby get up,’ he held your hand is you got up slowly, he sighed out when he saw a wet patch right on top of where you were grinding on him,

‘Tsk tsk, you couldn’t wait for me for even a few hours? Are really that desperate?’

‘Sorry ..’ you looked at him while keeping your eyes on the ground, you felt like a child being scolded, He laughed at you,

‘Don’t worry , go get that blanket from the sofa’ Whilst you went behind him to grab the blanket, he quickly dragged his now slightly damp shorts from down his large thighs.

‘Got it-’ You stopped short when you saw him sitting there, thighs spread and cock sanding proud against his stomach, he reached for your hand that wasn’t holding the soft blanket and brought you between his legs,

‘I still need to finish this track, can you keep me warm?’ He looked up at you,

‘Yea,’ You breathed out- your vision zoned into his member that was now leaking from the top, you longed to get down on you knees and lick it away, so you did.

Before he could question what you were doing, you got down between his thighs and slipped him into you mouth, the blanket long forgotten on the floor- your confidence ebbed higher when you heard him gasp sharply and involuntarily thrust into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat, causing you to gag slightly,

‘Shit-’ gasp ‘Baby, baby what are you-’ You took him down as far as you could, hoping to relive the pleasure you felt a few minutes ago, when his cock prodded against your throat, ‘What are you doing?’ he asked between gasps, ‘Fuck’ He dragged out the word when you finally got him down your throat, all the way- until your nose touched his abdomen. You waited to see how long you could take it, the pleasure you were feeling right now between your legs was enough to over power the gag reflex- so much that chan had grit out,

‘Baby i’m gonna cum, and I swear to God you will not have one orgasm for the whole week if you make me cum right now’

You wanted to ignore his threat, to make him shoot his cum across your face- but you knew that he would stay true to it if you didn’t relieve him from your throat’s confines. Yet, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care- you looked up at him, his eyes holding a warning, but you eyes carried more; a promise. You let yourself off of his dick, only long enough for him to think you obeyed him- but just as he was about to grab you for a kiss you went back down, you smiled as his jaw went slack and his eyes rolled back to his head- a choked moan left his mouth and his hand threaded into your hair as you bobbed your head, wrapping you hand around the remaining part of him that you couldn’t swallow, he told you between moans that he was about to cum- you gurgled around him yet you brough your head up, spit strings follow you. You giggled when you saw his tip twitch but nothing come out, Chan was sweaty all over and mad,

‘Get up.’ You obeyed this time, letting your spit drip from your chin on his thighs as you crawled up to his face, letting your thighs encircle his waist and folding your legs underneath.

‘Did you enjoy yourself?’ You nodded your head, trying to keep your eyes on his- but they kept flicking down to his lips, he breathed out a laugh, ‘If you think i’m going to make this experience enjoyable, think again- if you didn’t try that stunt right now like the needy slut you are, I would have probably fucked you right here.’ You whimpered slightly when he gathered your hair in his hand and brought your face millimetres away from his, so close that you could feel his breath on your lips- yet his eyes just skimmed up and down you face, ‘Now your gonna sit on daddy’s cock, and you’re not allowed to cum. Ok baby?’

You gulped but didn’t say anything, you merely whimpered out, ‘Yes daddy..’

‘Good girl,’ He finally brought your lips together, caressing them with his tongue- once again asking for permission; this time you didn’t deny him and let his tongue aggressively explore your mouth. After what felt like mere seconds he pulled away, both of you were panting and when chan gripped your hips harshly, you could tell that you were in for it.

Slowly he dragged you down until he was lined up to your opening, just before you sunk down onto his length he whispered in your ear,

‘And if you’re a good girl this time, i’ll fuck your pussy full of my cum,’ He gave you a wolfish grin and slammed you down onto his cock.

‘Shit!’ You gasped out when you felt him inside of you, you felt so..full, so very full. Chan laughed when you moaned and wriggled- but his hands clamped down on your hips,

‘Remember what I said pretty girl, the only way your slutty pussy is getting used tonight is to be my own personal cum dump’

You whimpered but stayed still, that was until he his thumb started to rub against your clit, you inhaled through you teeth,

‘Chan- Channie please, lemme cum.’ That just made him rub faster,

‘Baby, I thought I was clear- this pretty little pussy won’t be cumming tonight, maybe if you’re good..’ He trailed off and looked you in the eyes.

‘But-’

‘I need to finish this track, okay baby? Will you be good for me?’

‘Yes..’ Your gasped when a sharp sting of pleasure shot up from your clit....he just slapped your pussy,

‘Yes..who?’

You squealed when he pinched your swollen bud between his fingers,

‘Yes daddy’ you said between pants.

‘Good girl’ He kissed your head and bent down to grab the discarded blanket, ‘Don’t want anyone seeing how you’re being such a whore, do we now?’ You could barely speak, since even the slightest movement caused him to shift inside you, ‘mm, no- no daddy.’

He laughed at your needy expression,

‘Now lemme work’ He spread the blanket over you and kept a hand over your ass whilst he mindlessly clicked away on the screen in front of him.

Now all you had to do was wait..

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neve-0001 · 2 days

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BEEJ BOBA DAY (FULL POST 1/2)

BeeJ and the cast get boba after getting a recommendation from Delia …

part 1 includes my headcanon boba drinks for beeJ and lydia. part 2 will have barbara, adam, and delia <3

LYDIA’S GOT A SOUVENIR AT THE GACHAPON! lil boba keychain. mango base w watermelon popping boba.

LYDIA’S ORDER

• coffee base, 1 part milk, 4 parts coffee. she is a bitter gal. begs for less sugar. it accompanies her grief.

• regular/tapioca boba (for chewing)

• vanilla cream on top (to allocate for the missing sugar in the drink, LOL)

BEETLEJUICE’S ORDER

• green apple iced tea base (he is a fruity man, his drink must be so as well.)

• watermelon popping boba

• as for toppings, this includes beetles, bugs and insect legs inside his drink and on top of the contaminated vanilla cream, and a bunch of berries of his choice. i repeat, he is a fruity man.

lord this post took long. i tried my best!! part 2 coming soon

kindly do not tag as ship <3 thank you

my hands hurt.

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice musical #brightjuice #alex brightman #musicaljuice #lydia deetz #no beetlebabes #no ship #school of rock is next and then part 2 #beeJ boba day #i hope at least 1 person likes this idea

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bahnloopi · 1 year

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[DBS AU] - The Sento Ancestors **LONG POST AHEAD**

The initial group of Sento Saiyans were originally U7 Saiyans who served under King Vegeta I (Vegeta's Great-Grandfather) at the time of King Cold's reign.

**NAMES: (by descriptions-row)

-Rhoman ("roman", romaine lettus; front-center)

-Nion ("onion"; mullet-scar, 2nd row)

-Chile ("chi-lay", "chili"; red-head, green eyes, 2nd row)

Jinja ("ginger"; auburn-knot hair, pink eyes, 3rd row)

Pioca ("tapioca"; short-bob, blue earrings, 3rd row)

Aru ("arugula"; brown bandana, 3rd row)

Brussel ("brussel sprouts"; older man with greying hair, 3rd row)

Kohl ("kohlrabi"; tall man, short cut, 4th row)

Oras ("horseraddish"; large face scar, 5th row)

Char ("swiss chard"; long spikey hair, last row)

Niesa ("chinese potato"; straight hair, single bang, last row)

**PLOT:

They served as ambassadors for King Vegeta I as he was elderly and couldn't keep up with attending councils with King Cold regarding the Planet Trade Organization dealings. They would essentially act as the "liason" between King Cold and King Vegeta.

Each member deals directly with both Cold's men and the Saiyans who clear out the planets ready for auctions. Though, through their dealings, they've started to develop uneasy feelings regarding Cold and his objectives. More Saiyans have been reported missing during missions.

King Cold and or his men kill them off for sport or if the job is incomplete and the planet locals start fighting back. The Ambassadors (Sento Ancestors) catch wind of this and all collectively share their concerns in what was originally stated to be a partnership.

They bring their concerns to King Vegeta I directly with their suspicions of King Cold's treachery, but King Vegeta I dismisses the sentiment as they are receiving more technology from Cold as gains.

Seeing the disregard to their own people and no longer wanting to be involved, the Ancestors all remove their armor and announce their resignation from the throne in unison.

King Vegeta I severely agitated by this sentenced them to exile to a remote planet nearby. Their numbers and strengths were too great at the moment to attempt their execution. He'd rather them wither and die off elsewhere.

-End Part for this section -

#bahn's art #art #sento saga #dbs au #sento saiyans #ancestor saiyans #dragonball #dbz #dbs

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raffe156 · 1 year

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Late Night sparring

Pairing - Price X Tank X Ghost

Summary - A Late Night sparring sessions turns into something more.

Warnings - Smut (18+) Voyeurism, Language, Age gap Price (39) Tank (25) Ghost (36) SoftDom!Price, public sex, praise kink, fingering, Oral (F receiving) P in V, unsafe sex, Ghost being a little simp for Tank, Price likes to watch...

AN- I'm so sorry this took so long! not 100% happy with it, but we'll see what you guys think.

It's kind of filth, I re wrote this about 4 times so please please please let me know what you guys think either by comments, anon asks or however you feel comfortable! I've been in such a writers block headspace that getting this out felt like such an accomplishment haha!

Also enjoy another one of the commissions I had done by the amazingly talented @hffhifjou x

@deadbranch @mildlyhopeless @fanficandartgal @shuttlelauncher81 @a-littlebirdie @soapyghost @boomtowngirl @mostannoyingbillioner @brewed-pangolin @chb-7 @sarcastic-raptor163 @tapioca-marzipan

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Call of duty characters, Only Tank

“Hands where I can see them Riley!” Price shouted from the side lines. Ghost currently had you pinned underneath him both arms locked behind your back pressed to his stomach, face pressed to the floor of the ring.

“Will one do?” Ghost waved his free hand at Price causing his weight to shift fully onto you. You could just make out Price giving him the finger, his brow furrowed.

“Off now…” He made his way over to the edge of the ring, but Ghost didn’t ease up. Instead he leaned down close, you could feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek.

“You don’t want me to get up do you?…I think you like being under me…” it was just quiet enough for Price to miss but he didn’t miss the flush that spread across your face.

“UP NOW!” It was more of a warning that a request now. Ghost made a slow effort to get up, his hands being the last to leave your wrists. They felt bruised but it was a nice ache. You would never admit it to him, but he was right.

‘I think I’m done for tonight cap…I need a shower” You rolled over onto your back flat out. You didn’t even need to look at Price to know that wasn’t happening.

“Ill be the judge of that…I’ll take over the session..” Price shrugged his shoulders, stretched his arms and entered the ring. Ghost shot him a look.

“Maybe we should just hit the showers eh Cap?” Ghost rubbed your calf, you both knew exactly what he meant and the mental image caused your mind to wander…would all 3 of you even fit? The cubicles were small…you and Price just about fit…would Ghost keep his mask on? Did Ghost wear his mask in the shower? You hadn’t realised Price was talking to you till he snapped his fingers in front of your face.

“I said are you ready kid?” Price cocked his eyebrow at you.

“what? Really? I’ve just had my arse handed to me by him…I don’t need another beat down from you! Can we just all go take a shower?” You sat up, looking up at Price from under your lashes…hopefully the little lost lamb look would soften his big bad wolf stance…it didn’t. The pathetic attempt made Ghost scoff…but you and he knew it would have worked on him. Price was a tougher nut to crack. You stood up.

“If that’s what you want then you better get to work…because we aren’t stopping till you get me pinned to the ground” before you could protest Price was on you like a rash, in two moves he had disabled you completely. Both arms behind your back body bent forward. If you weren’t so pissed off this would have been hot, but you knew he meant business an knew he wasn’t joking about not stopping till you pinned him.

*******

It had been about an hour your breath was ragged, the sweat dripping from you, your body ached from being slammed to the ground numerous times by Price his full weight resting on you each time, he didn’t hold back.

Every sly attempt to seduce him or touch him failed and almost always ended up with you on your arse or in a headlock tapping his arm.

“Can’t flirt your way out of a headlock love!”

“How long can you keep this up? Really?” You crouched taking in the few minutes rest. You watched Price from the corner of your eye he circled you like a predator his breathing was deep, though he didn’t look half as worn out as you did, if anything he looked virile, rejuvenated what was he getting out of this? He crouched in front of you a smirk planted across his face.

“You know me Tank I can go all night…”

His smug words had you grabbing at his arm to attempt a throw but instead he pulled you back into him your back pressed to his chest your own arm locking you in place.

“Nearly…” He chuckled in your ear, he knew it enraged you. He knew you were getting ratty now like a toddler that had been deprived of an afternoon nap. You bucked back into him trying and failing to throw him over. His laugh only get louder.

Ghost was silent in the corner, he had watching in awe as the two of you had fought. Watched as your bodies collided and crashed into one another. He watched as if in slow motion you bare and snap your teeth at Price who only returned the aggression in the form or a smirk. It was like a dance and Ghost wanted to cut in.

“Think she’s had enough Price…she’s getting snappy now…literally” Just as he said it you had sunk your teeth into Prices forearm. He kicked your leg out from under you causing you to drop down releasing his arm from your bite, Price went down with you repositioning himself so your arms were completely locked behind you.

“Im sick of this shit…” you were struggling against him so much you hadn’t even clocked Ghost now crouched in front of you. His ski mask was up.

He leaned in his lips grazing yours. It took you by surprise but you welcomed him in, Price watched as you let Ghost slip his tongue into your mouth. He felt you ease up but he didn’t release his hold. He liked the control. He pulled you back.

“Tell me what you want Tank?” Price was in your ear. You let out a sigh.

“Ghost…” you knew the answer was a risky one, but he had wound you up. Ghost looked at you a little smirk on his face, but he knew Price was in charge here still.

“Is that right?…fair enough…” Price slowly released his hold. You looked back…there must be a catch surely it wasn’t that easy? But not to look a gift horse in the mouth as soon as your hands were free they flew up to Ghost face, your thumbs running just under the edge of his mask testing your limits, his hands came up to rest on yours.

“Easy tiger haha” Ghost watched Price from the corner of his eye, what was he up to? Price jumped out of the ring and made his way over to his jacket pulling out a cigar and lighter. Really?

Ghost turned his attention back to you, he was going to make the most of this “free rein”. He gently pushed you back so you were lay flat pulling your shorts off in one quick move. Your underwear was soaked. It made him feral the thought of you getting off on being thrown around and pinned by you Captain and Lieutenant.

He lowered his head his mouth just a few inches from your centre making you scream internally, his hand kneading your inner thigh he lifted his head slightly to plant little kisses close to where his hand rested in between each kiss you could feel the faint nip of his teeth, as he got close he used his other hand to gently pull your underwear to the side. His warm breath caused your nerves to spark and fizz. The sight of you laid open for him made his mouth water like a sour sweet had been placed under his tongue. He noticed your hand fidgeting in anticipation so decide to lace his fingers with yours, his much larger hand nearly swallowing yours as he did he slowly licked a stripe up your core, savouring your taste, smoked honey mixed with salt…it drove him insane as he licked and sucked at your slit you could feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head, as he pushed two fingers inside, you felt your walls clamping down on him and then came the familiar swell in your stomach. You turned your head locking eyes with Price his face mostly distorted by a cloud of thick cigar smoke, but you could just make out his sharp blue eyes.

The thought of Price watching you pushed you over the edge, he didn’t break eye contact as you came.

“Atta girl” the sound of praise from Price flooded your system just like his smoke filled your lungs. Even without touching you he could still cause a stir inside. He still had control. Ghost knew this but he didn’t care, he had you laid out, open for him to explore even if he had to share your attention.

He made his way up your body, taking you in as he did. He almost completely covered you, his body a shield. He had you caged underneath him his arm blocking you from Price’s view. He could see you looking for your Captain, but right now here you were under your Lieutenants command.

“Eyes on me…” he whispered as he undid his pants, pulling his cock out the weight of it resting on your opening. You were pinned under him but you watched his eyes as you managed to roll your hips up into him causing the head of his cock to slip over your clit.

“Fucking HELL” his eyes rolled back as you rolled your hips again for another pass. Ghost couldn’t take it anymore he hooked your legs over his thighs pulling you up as he did supporting you from underneath, you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck. He fisted his cock angling it at your core you were warm an inviting. You looked at him your eyes glossy an wet, you wanted him inside you here an now and you wanted Price to watch him have you. You both looked down to where you were almost joined.

“Ready?” Ghost drew back he knew from last time he had to take it slow allow you to adjust around him.

“Mhmm” you head felt foggy like the smoke from Prices cigar had clouded it. But the feeling of Ghost entering you cleared the fog like a wave, washing it away suddenly all your senses were filled with Ghost, his body heat, his smell cigarettes and mint all filled you up the feeling of his rough hands gripping your arse as you rocked back down onto him. You held on tight pushing yourself into him chest to chest. He could feel your heart racing he wanted you closer needed you closer if he could he would open his chest an keep you there.

His thrusts became rampant, rutting up into you the sounds echoing across the gym. Ghost could feel himself getting close an could tell you were as well by how your walls clung to him reluctant to let him pull out even an inch.

“Cum for me…” he lowered you back down onto the floor of the ring his pace only slowing slightly your legs still wrapped around his waist.

You felt the spring in your stomach coil up tight as Ghost buried his face in your neck.

“Are you gonna be a good girl an cum for your Lieutenant” he growled through gritted teeth into your neck. You turned you head to allow him to get deeper into your clavicle. As your eyes fluttered open you noticed Price was sat closer to the ring slouched and legs spread, cigar still in his mouth puffing away. A smirk on his face was he enjoying this? He knew you were looking for him, knew you needed to know he was watching you. He knew you needed his nod of approval to say you could be a good girl an cum and there it was subtle but it was there. You allowed yourself to fully be devoured by Ghost and swallowed whole, you took all of him in every nerve ending was alight and screaming his name an he knew it he could feel the difference in you, Ghost wanted to give you all of him willed you to take it he only asked for a fraction of you in return as he knew he could never have all of you but for a split second as he glanced down at you he felt like he did.

You both came at the same time you could feel the hot ropes of cum filling you as your bodies eased up. Your panting an moans filled the gym hall. Both trying to catch your breath a haze of lust and body heat surrounded you. Then out of the haze came Prices voice

“Hurry up an hit the showers, you still haven’t pinned me yet Tank…so don’t be thinking we are done for the night…”

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adore-laur · 6 months

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BEAUTY

— harry & nadine’s meet-cute 🕊️

——

SIX YEARS AGO

Grey skies loomed over Loire Valley with the promise of an April rainstorm. The slow-moving river snaked through the scenic countryside and stretched beyond what the human eye could see. Trees rustled in a favorable breeze, stirring up aromas from nearby fruit orchids. Firecrests and turtledoves chirped in the distance, signaling the start of spring.

Nadine savored it all while crossing the bridge on her Beaumont bicycle. In the front wicker basket was her canvas tote bag containing her Kodak camera protectively wrapped in a pillowcase, a serving of fresh tapioca pudding she had impulsively purchased from the local farmer's market, and an unknown flower she had found under the oak tree in her backyard. Her yellow raincoat crinkled as she pedaled vigorously to get to her destination before the clouds burst. The scrape on her knee she had gotten from falling off her bike in her gravel driveway dully ached. Maybe the rain would wash away the dried blood.

The Domaine de Chaumont-sur-Loire opened its annual International Garden Festival that morning, which Nadine wouldn't have missed for the world. It resurfaced fond childhood memories of strolling through the enriching gardens with her family and getting lost in the creative landscapes showcased by landscapers, architects, and photographers far and wide.

Nadine planned to take photos to build her modeling portfolio. As a curvy girl with distinct ethnic features, getting her foot in the door had been challenging, but the alluring backdrop of the gardens would make her stand out. The theme was Gardens of Sensations.

In the past, it had been no easy feat to photograph herself with her less-than-adequate camera and awkward self-direction. However, she prepared to make these sacrifices for a prosperous career. Loire Valley only had one modeling agency, which meant she had to start somewhere small and affordable before traveling north to Paris for more lavish opportunities.

To earn a living, Nadine provided housekeeping services for surrounding chateaus. The work was rewarding, but it did not spark any passion for her. As a young girl, she had been fascinated by the aesthetic of posing in different environments and making fashion statements after seeing magazine spreads of French models strutting down the catwalk. But she had never been able to imagine herself in their shoes—literally and figuratively. Those six-inch heels seemed killer. With her thick eyebrows, pesky cellulite, and blemished skin, she had been the complete opposite of what model scouts sought.

Once Nadine became wiser over the years, she knew her worth. Her natural beauty just needed to be highlighted by the right scenery and garments.

When she arrived at the festival, she locked her bike on a rack and slung her tote bag over her shoulder. The historical Chateau-de-Chaumont on the sprawling lawn caused her to stop and stare for a moment. It was grand and beautiful, just as she remembered. Her new-fangled perspective left her wondering what inspiration she would discover.

After purchasing an admission ticket, she walked under the arch of the chateau to reach the garden path that weaved through twenty-one hectares of artistic garden exhibits. Each display differed depending on where the landscaper originally hailed from, like Japan, South Korea, Great Britain, and countless other countries. Among the trees was a greenhouse kitchen where vegetables were grown and offered to visitors. Nadine remembered eating juicy little tomatoes there as a teenager—they were called 'the nipples of Venus.' The memory made her smile faintly.

She glanced around for a pretty scene to photograph herself in just as rain began to sprinkle. Shivering, she pulled the hood of her poncho over her head. Maybe today wasn’t the best day to embark on a modeling adventure. Maybe she should have turned around and gone home.

But further in the gardens, Nadine stumbled upon a peculiar situation. An exhibition was still being set up, nestled in an opening surrounded by greenery like a secret oasis. Landscapers worked diligently to put the finishing touches on it. Their work had been delayed by the unpredictable climate in central France. It was a blessing that the rain didn’t fall much through the canopy of trees above.

There was a rectangular vat of water with a wooden path winding through it, similar to a Candyland board. The landscapers removed leaves and branches from the water with pool skimmers. Red bamboo canes stood tall around it, hugging the scene with vibrant color. There was something simple yet entrancing about it, and she was drawn to the energy of tranquility that called to her.

Nadine slowly approached, attempting to act invisible so as not to disturb them. She would wait until they were done before taking photos. Perhaps sitting on the path and posing near the bamboo would be adequate. Yes, that would be a fantastic shot. Unique, too, which was what she strived for.

Her childlike wonder pushed her closer until her attention snagged on something else. Something a little more intriguing.

A man stood waist-deep in the water, rearranging bamboo with sedulous care, his bare back turned to her. He had the most muscular, contoured back Nadine had ever seen in her life. It was sculpted in a way that captured her gaze, but she should not have been surprised. He was some sort of landscaper, which was a labor-intensive job. His tendons were surely robust. Sacré bleu, why was she thinking about his tendons?

She snapped out of her man-induced hypnosis. She had a job to get done. Her future was at stake! With that thought, she unwrapped her camera from its cocoon just as a couple of landscapers brushed past her with metal buckets, paying no mind to her lingering presence. She must have looked like a mere tourist.

Nadine delicately cleared her throat in an attempt to catch the attention of the man with the beautiful back. He was the only one still tending to the exhibit and did not seem to hear her.

"Excusez-moi?" she said, removing her hood to appear more approachable.

The man's large hands, which were also gorgeously sculpted, halted around the lithe bamboo sticks. His face turned before his body did, and goodness gracious! Oh wow. He was pleasing—to look at, she meant. His foreign face was a masterpiece of symmetry. While he did not look French, remnants of European features still adorned his face. A well-chiseled bone structure and an elegant straight nose. Pink lips that were parted. A firm chest with a ridged midsection. Disheveled, rain-soaked hair.

"Bonjour," he replied, sounding perplexed. Soulful green eyes stared intently at her.

Nadine's gaze desperately wanted to wander south again, but she remained strong. "Is this exhibit open to visitors?" she asked.

He regarded her for longer than normal—not scrutinizingly, but rather in a mystified manner. "Yes. My apologies; I was just perfecting a few details."

"I did not mean to intrude. I—" She paused and searched for the proper words. "Well, I was hoping to take pictures for my portfolio here."

"Your portfolio?" he echoed.

Nodding, Nadine nervously tucked her damp hair behind her ears. "For modeling. I want to broaden my use of compelling backdrops, and this festival has plenty of them." She waved a hand, the flourishing nature around them not needing further explanation. "Anyway, this particular exhibit caught my eye. Would it be possible for me to take some pictures?"

The man glanced behind her, his brows furrowing. "Where’s your photographer?"

"I do not have one," she said shyly. "I just place my camera on a flat surface and set the timer."

It was far too expensive to hire an entire crew for a photoshoot. She would have rather saved money by gaining hands-free experience herself. Besides, people in the modeling industry admired humble beginnings. She was building her career from the ground up.

"Would you like some assistance?" he asked, raindrops gently falling from his chin. Nadine detected a lilted British accent.

"Oh, I do not want to be a nuisance," she said. "I’m sure you’re busy."

He walked to the edge closest to her and shook his head, a handsome smile pulling at his lips. "No, not anymore."

Feeling thrilled, Nadine's heartbeat pounded like a stampede of wild animals. "All right, then."

It was an unexpected turn of events. As far as she was concerned, she had not expected to meet someone as generous as this man. She hadn't expected much of anything out of today since the weather put a damper on her mood, and her dreams often felt unattainable.

"What's your name?"

Handing over her camera, she answered, "Nadine."

"I'm Harry," he said. "I'm a landscape architect, which might not help your situation, but I did get a passing grade in a college-level photography class. Is that good enough?"

"I don't know," she countered playfully. "I might interpret a passing grade differently from you."

He laughed, his nose scrunching. "B-minus."

She pretended to mull it over before saying, "I will accept that."

"Merci." He sat on the wooden path. "So, do you have any specific ideas in mind for the photoshoot?"

"I know I want to be a part of nature. Close-up shots are preferred. And..." Nadine looked at the exhibit, pondering. "Am I allowed to go in the water?"

"I don't see why not."

"Will I get into trouble? I couldn't stand being banned from this place."

While fidgeting with her camera, Harry said, "This is my exhibit."

This had been designed by him? It was highly impressive, and it made her feel better knowing a person with a meticulous brain and a keen eye for design was helping her. It was also attractive knowing he had constructed it with his bare hands. Did his fingers have calluses? Were there blood, sweat, and tears involved? No, don’t think about him sweating!

"You're letting a stranger interfere with your creation?" she asked, willing away the heat rushing up her neck.

As Harry raised the camera to his eye and pointed it at random things, seemingly testing its functionality, he murmured, "You would be adding beauty to it."

In the middle of removing her sandals and poncho, Nadine’s breath hitched. It was quite bold of him to make such a statement. She had to tread carefully around this male enigma. She was there for business and business only.

"Hop in," Harry said. "The water is heated."

She felt vulnerable in her white camisole and brown silk maxi skirt. Her curves were accentuated by the spring breeze blowing through the fabric. Her feet sank into the dirt. To remain true to the theme of nature and its rawness, she had opted not to wear any makeup.

Shimmying down her skirt and letting it pool on the ground, she was left wearing beige underwear. Without a single word spoken, the mood turned intimate.

While she dipped one leg into the water, Harry's gentlemanly gaze remained fixed on her face. He was right—it was a glorious temperature, like sinking into a lukewarm bath after a long day. She was submerged up to her rib cage.

"Are you new to Loire Valley?" Nadine asked, curious about how this beautiful man showed up in her hometown.

"I live in England. I was invited to this festival to create a United Kingdom exhibit."

"Ah, oui. It must be such an honor. Do you like it here so far?"

Harry nodded. "It's gorgeous. The architecture is brilliant."

"I hope the sheer number of chateaus we have is not overwhelming,” Nadine said, slicking her hair back with wet palms.

He chuckled and stood up. "Shall we get started?"

Nadine leaned against the edge of the vat, swaying trees and clusters of red bamboo behind her. She settled her expression into her "model face," which was basically just her looking slightly pissed off at something, but in a sexy way. With her chin tilted up, she showed off her sharp jaw and neck muscles.

Harry knelt on the wooden path and held the camera steadily. Leaning forward, he zoomed in at a low angle. There was a look of concentration on his face, and she felt elated that he was so serious about assisting her.

The shutter clicked a few times. By moving her face just a smidge, she subtly posed. It was all natural to her once she was in the moment—like breathing. She loved immersing herself in working the camera to her advantage. She made it her best friend.

"Regardez-moi," Harry murmured, sending a delightful shiver down Nadine’s spine. She looked at him with her lips pursed attractively, and he snapped more photos. "Parfaite."

"You speak very good French."

Still adorably focused on his task, he hummed in acknowledgment. "I studied architecture at Versailles and took French classes. It's a romantic language."

"I agree." She switched her pose by spreading her arms in the water and trying to smize, as invented by Tyra Banks. The camera’s shutter sounded dozens of times.

To get the best angles, Harry contorted his body in semi-ridiculous ways. He then got in the water and stood near her. Nadine’s heart rate spiked since he was even more ethereal up close. There was a gentleness to his presence, and she was undeniably attracted to it.

"What do you call an angry French aunt?" Harry asked, setting up a joke.

"Oh, boy. What?"

"A crossaunt."

Nadine let a giggle escape. Slowly lowering the camera, Harry stared at her in awe. His smile was stuck in place, as if making her laugh stopped time.

"Fossetes," he whispered. Dimples.

A powerful blush expanded across her face and spread to her chest. Suddenly, her smile turned shy. She had never experienced such attention from a man before. The feeling was both daunting and exhilarating.

Water sluiced down Nadine's body when she stood at her full height. "Thank you for doing this," she said, her voice weak.

"It was my pleasure,” Harry replied. “You made my job easy."

She was going to burst into flames if she kept blushing. "Can I repay the favor in any way?"

His lips quirked to the side as he hummed thoughtfully. "What are your plans for next weekend?" he asked.

"I will most likely be back here again."

"As will I."

"So...” Nadine chewed on the inside of her cheek. “I will see you then?"

"Absolutely." He cleared his throat and held her gaze. "I was wondering if you would fancy doing something with me afterward. We could visit all the farmer's markets. Perhaps stroll along the river at sunset. You could show me your favorite spots and tell me why you love them."

Nadine inhaled a little gasp. If he wanted to spend an evening together, he had surely felt the connection too. It was palpable, hanging thickly in the air like a storm cloud. She could feel the electrical charge with just a single glance. It was definitely worth exploring.

"Unless you're taken,” Harry added uncertainly, combing a hand through his hair. "Sorry, I should have asked first. I just find you so pretty, and you have a lovely laugh." He paused briefly, glimpsing at her lips. "I'd love to hear more of it."

She walked toward him, her pulse going haywire. Her palms rested against his chest as she softly kissed his clean-shaven cheek and said, "I’m available.”

"Oui?"

"Oui."

Harry's eyes crinkled when he smiled. "Splendid. I'm looking forward to it, dove."

Gleeful flutters took flight in Nadine's stomach. She had been yearning for a serendipitous moment for ages. The prospect of being wanted always felt unreachable to her. No boy had ever decided she was worth a chance. Now, there was a glimmer of hope.

When Nadine arrived home later that evening, she perused through the pictures on her camera—there were at least a hundred. Each one captured her in a certain light that had been unknown to her. Through the eyes of someone else, she found herself desirable.

All thanks to the man with the beautiful back.

——

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