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fixfoxnox · 1 year ago

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Pervert Blues (Soap/Roach)

Art by the wonderful @miilkybnn , find it here

Description: Roach has an issue. John "Soap" MacTavish is a fucking pervert and won't leave him alone. He definitely doesn't like it. And he definitely is not happy when Soap finally manages to get him alone in a communal bathroom on base.

Warnings: Smut, Non-Con/Dub-Con, Semi-public sex, perv Soap, slight victim blaming but Roach wants it

Notes: Based on that one audition from Soap and written for my dearest @miilkybnn

Roach and Soap had issues since the very moment that Roach had joined the 141. It wasn’t anything that Roach had done, he’d made a pretty good impression on the team when he’d joined. Apparently, too good of an impression on Soap, considering what had been building between the two for months upon months.

It had started off innocent enough, so innocent that Roach hadn’t thought anything of it. The comments from Soap were just playful little things about how good he looked in the uniform. How he must have had all the people on his old squad drooling after him. “Accidental” touches that would brush against his ass. The friendly hand on the small of his back, guiding him into a conference room or the cafeteria. The way he would stand just a bit too close while they were talking. Or he’d get right up behind Roach to get something off of a taller shelf.

It had all seemed so innocent. Then, Roach started noticing more. He started to get a tad uncomfortable. It wasn’t so innocent anymore. Soap’s comments went from playful to borderline catcalling. He’d whistle when Roach went by, his eyes caught on the curve of his ass. Roach would always start moving a bit faster, his face going a bright red. It didn’t feel like a friendly joke, it felt real.

Then there was the flirting. The way that Soap would lean in all too close to him and whisper something about helping Roach “rearrange his furniture” or having Roach “test out the new bed in his room.” All while his fingers would trace along Roach’s arm temptingly. Roach would always end up scurrying out of the room, desperate to be able to breathe away from Soap’s touch.

His hands grew bolder. He still hid behind excuses, grabbing at Roach’s hips to move him out of his way. Touching Roach’s ass as he gave him a boost over a wall on a mission, claiming it was an accident, just where his hand landed. Roach would never point out that the grope to his ass surely wasn’t an accident. Roach never said anything, and maybe that was his mistake. Maybe if he had said something he could have nipped it in the bud before it had grown to what it was now.

Now? Now Soap had lost all shame. He’d moved past hiding his desire and his perverted actions from Roach and turned to just hiding it from the rest of the team. Now Roach found himself being groped any time Soap got a chance. God forbid if he made the mistake of bending over in front of Soap. He’d be likely to find himself sprawled on the floor from the force in which Soap would slap his ass.

Roach would always turn to him with a glare, but Soap would just shrug with that smug asshole smirk on his face and say that if Roach didn’t want it, he shouldn’t have flaunted himself like that. Roach would gape at him, unable to do anything other than stare as he watched Soap strut out of the room.

Now the comments were more graphic. Quick descriptions of what Soap wanted to do to him in the uniform he was wearing, all whispered in his ear at random times. Quick words of how well Soap knew that he would be able to take his cock, how much he would love taking his cock. Roach would never be able to respond, always finding his mouth going dry, his face going red, and an embarrassing wetness pooling between his thighs and threatening to soak his boxers.

Then there was the journal. That stupid fucking journal that Soap was always carrying around with him. Around the other members of the 141, Soap was like a guard dog over it, ready to snap at any of them who even tried to sneak a peak. Roach had even seen him take a swipe at Gaz for simply walking behind him while he’d been working in the little journal.

It wasn’t like that for Roach. No, no, it was like Soap wanted Roach to see his journal, to see every filthy thing that he’d drawn and written inside of it. The first time that Roach had seen it, Soap had gotten up to get a drink and left the journal wide open next to him on the couch. Roach had only glanced at it for a moment before doing a quick double take, his mouth falling open as he observed the various drawings laid out on the two open pages of the journal.

Sketch upon sketch of him in various lewd positions. It was clearly meant to be him and, just in case he couldn’t recognize himself from his appearance, Soap had added a helpful little arrow that labeled one of the drawings of him with his name.

There was one of him on his knees, the very tip of a thick cock laid on his tongue as he drooled around it. Another was him on his back, his own fingers buried deep in his cunt as his back arched off the bed, juices dripping from between his thighs. Then there was the other page, each of the drawings there featuring him with a man splitting him open on his cock. It didn’t take Roach long to figure out who the man with the mohawk was meant to represent.

When Soap had returned to the couch and spotted Roach looking at the journal with a burning red face, he only grinned. He took the journal back into his hands and leaned back against the arm of the couch he was on, a smirk tugging at his lips as he began sketching on the pages. He would look up at Roach occasionally like he was referencing back to his face to make sure he got everything right.

Roach had made his escape only moments after that. Scurrying back to his room to bury his face in his pillow as an embarrassing arousal flooded his system.

And the most bold move that Soap had started with was the clothing.

Roach hadn’t noticed it at first. A few of his boxers and shirts missing from the laundry room weren't anything to worry about. After all, it could have been anything. He could have misplaced them or they could have ended up in someone else's things by mistake. He didn't think much of it, he was sure they would turn up sooner or later.

They had turned up, just not how he'd expected or wanted them to. He'd come back to his room after a conference with Price one day, just a check-in for how he'd been settling on the team, making sure he was getting along with the other team members. Simple things. Roach had said nothing about Soap. He'd hoped that the other’s perverted behavior and strong advances on him would simply fade with time.

Then he'd come into his room, finding a pair of his missing boxers crumpled up onto his bed. He'd blinked at the sight of them, wondering how they'd ended up there of all places. Then he'd grabbed them and realized with a startling yelp exactly where his boxers had been. He didn't think he'd ever rushed to a bathroom to wash his hands quicker than he had at that moment.

He knew it was Soap. He wasn't an idiot. The smirk that the other man had given him when they'd run into each other again on his way to rush to the laundry room was enough to fill him in, even if he hadn't suspected him. The following week saw all of his missing clothes being returned one by one, each covered in the evidence of Soap's perverted desire for him.

Soap hadn't stopped, he'd only grown bolder from there, even going so far as to sneak into Roach's room and take care of himself using Roach's pillow. Roach knew he wouldn't stop either. The other man would just keep going until he was satisfied with whatever he wanted from Roach. Whether it was just his body or all of him, it didn't matter. It wouldn't stop.

Roach knew he should have gone to Price. Should have raised a sexual harassment complaint against the man the moment he'd seen those drawings in the journal. The issue was that he had no proof of what Soap was doing. For as big of a perverted asshole as Soap was, he was a careful asshole. He'd never been anything but polite to Roach in front of the others. He'd hidden his tracks well, no evidence of him taking Roach's clothes or sneaking into his room or groping him. Roach could do nothing to prove it.

And, while he didn't necessarily need perfect proof, he knew that if he didn't have hard enough evidence the simple answer would be to separate Soap and Roach onto different teams. And since Soap had been on the 141 longer, it would likely be Roach on the chopping block. He wasn't willing to risk that, not everything he'd worked for. And definitely not over that asshole Soap MacTavish.

Roach had done everything in his power to avoid Soap. He didn’t want to find out exactly how the other man planned to step up his antics next, so he’d made a point to never be left alone with the Sergeant. Of course, he couldn’t avoid everything, and Soap always found an excuse to be touching him.

And, of course, Soap wasn’t an idiot. He’d clearly noticed that Roach was doing his damnedest to ignore and avoid him. The sudden frequency of his clothes going missing and the little drawing of him bent over a desk with a hand palming over his cunt and a clear handprint on his ass that had mysteriously shown up in his room was enough to tell him that Soap had noticed. Roach was nervous, especially as he could feel Soap’s eyes following him practically anywhere he went.

He felt paranoid. He hated the unwanted attention that the other man continued to find a way to give him. At least he told himself over and over that he hated the attention even as he kept that little drawing that had shown up in his room. Even if he found that he stopped caring so much about finding his missing clothing soiled on his bed.

He didn’t want what Soap was offering, so he’d done everything in his power to avoid the man. Of course, luck had never particularly been his strong suit, so it was only a matter of time before the universe decided that Roach couldn’t avoid Soap any longer. Roach just wondered if it had to happen just as he’d finished showering.

He was in the locker room, not by his own choice but by a cruel twist of fate. The water heater for his half of the building had gone and offed itself, so he’d elected to shower in the locker room rather than deal with freezing his ass off in his own shower.

Roach hadn’t thought much about it when he’d come into the locker room to someone else already showering in one of the other stalls. He assumed it was some other poor sap who’d lost the hot water in their room just as he had. So he’d just taken his own stall and started washing away the grime that had accumulated on his skin from the day’s training.

Distantly he picked up on the other shower turning off and whoever was there stepping out of the shower but, again, he paid it no mind. He just continued his usual routine of scrubbing his skin near raw to rid himself of the lingering feeling of dirt and sweat clinging to his skin. He’d assumed that the other person would have gone by the time that he’d finished.

Of course, that wasn’t the case and, when he’d stepped out of the shower with only a towel around his waist, dread seemed to pool in his gut. There, leaned casually against the locker in a wife beater and a pair of loose sweatpants was Soap, that stupid fucking smirk on his face as he met Roach’s eyes.

“Fuck,” Roach muttered under his breath. He tightened his grip on his towel before starting toward his things as quickly as he could. “Soap,” he acknowledged with a snap as he moved past the man and over toward his bag.

“Roach,” Soap sounded delighted with this turn of events. Delighted and all too smug. “Haven’t seen you in a minute.”

“You saw me at training today.”

“You know what I mean.” Soap pushed himself off of the locker, “Like this. Just the two of us. Blissfully alone.”

Roach opened the small bag he’d brought with him, digging through it to try and find his clothes, his brow wrinkling as he pushed past his extra towel and other necessities. “Have you considered that us not being left alone might have been purposeful? That maybe I don’t want to be alone with you?”

“Come on now,” Soap moved casually closer to him, and out of the corner of his eye, Roach could see the wicked grin that the man was wearing. Something about it spelled trouble for him, but he did his best to ignore it. “You can stop playing this game of yours, Roach, I know you want me. It’s easier if you just say it.”

“Want you?” Roach gave a frustrated laugh, “In your fucking dreams MacTavish.” He gave a grunt as he shoved more things aside in his bag. He couldn’t find his fucking clothes. It didn’t make sense, they were supposed to be right there when he opened his bag. Easy to grab and change into. Now, though, it was like they’d disappeared-

Roach froze, horror filling him as his mind snapped into place. The fucker hadn’t. He wouldn’t. Surely he wasn’t so bold. He didn’t want to believe it, but a large part of him already knew. He stayed still for a long moment until Soap, with that smug asshole voice of his asked, “Something wrong?”

“Where are they?” Roach snapped, abandoning his bag to round the bench and poke at Soap’s chest. “Give them back, this isn’t funny!”

Soap’s grin never fell from his face, even as he asked, “Give what back?”

“My clothes you asshole!”

“Ohhh,” Soap gave a dramatic shake of his head. “Silly me. You want to know what I did with your clothes?”

“Yes,” Roach snapped at him, feeling rage and embarrassment tugging at his chest. He could not believe that this was happening to him. That Soap would be so bold as to make a move like this in the locker room of all places. Of course, he shouldn’t have been surprised. If Soap was willing to break into his room and jerk off against his pillow, he was likely willing to do much worse. “Where are they?”

“Ah, I set 'em aside for a bit. Like you better like this anyways.” His eyes raked down Roach’s body and Roach resisted the urge to shiver. He swore that he could feel the look that Soap gave him on his skin, touching him just as the man in front of him so clearly wanted to do. “The uniforms good but this?” He gave a low whistle and Roach could feel his face go red. Whether it was from anger or embarrassment, he couldn’t be sure.

“You fucking prick!” Roach gave a quick harsh shove at Soap’s chest, knocking him back a few inches. Soap’s smirk only seemed to grow at the move, making Roach feel all the more annoyed with him. “Is it not enough to harass me at every turn? I can’t have a single break from your shit, can I?”

“My shit?” Soap closed the distance between them again. “Imagine being me, dealing with your ridiculous teasing.” Roach gaped at him at those words, completely taken aback by the implications of what Soap was saying. “You in that fucking uniform, always bending over in front of me, flaunting those pictures of you at the gym and in your fucking civvies? Gets my cock fucking twitching just talking about it.” He tilted his head back with a slight groan at the thought.

“You are such a fucking perv!” Roach took a step away from the other man. “I mean I should have known considering you broke into my room to jerk it against my pillow.” Soap took a step forward, following Roach as he backed away, trying to put any distance that he could between the two of them. “I’d at least hoped that around all the thinking with your dick, there was a part of you that respected me.” His back hit the cold tile of one of the shower stalls and soon enough he found himself caged in place as Soap’s hands hit the wall on either side of his head. “Should have known, you’re just another perverted asshole.”

Soap made a playful clicking sound with his tongue before shaking his head. “Oh no, Bug, you’ve got me all wrong. I do respect you.” He brought one of his hands down to push a strand of wet hair away from Roach’s forehead. He seemed oddly sincere for a few moments. “I respect you so much I mean, I want you on top…and on your back. And on your knees.”

“You fucking-”

Roach couldn’t say more around the tongue that forced its way into his mouth and the knee that shoved its way between his thighs, pressing against his cunt through the towel blocking his modesty. The pressure was downright deadly, a slow and steady pressure against his clit that had his hands shaking as he went to push at Soap’s shoulders, a weak attempt to get the man to move away. He didn’t know if he actually wanted Soap’s heat away from his body.

It was almost cathartic for him, in an odd way. Finally having Soap pressed up against him, finally having the other man act on his disgusting thoughts and the desire he so clearly felt for Roach. The desire that had driven him to do so much, to push the boundaries, and now to take what he desired. It was like the final piece of a puzzle that he’d been trying to finish for months.

Soap’s hands grabbed at Roach’s hips, pinning him to the wall pressed tight against his own body. When Roach tried again to pull away from his mouth, Soap was quick to move and wind a hand into Roach’s hair, gripping tight enough to pull a gasp of pain from Roach’s lips. He didn’t even act like he noticed Roach’s hands trying to push him away like Roach wasn’t strong enough even to bother him.

After a short moment, Soap pulled his mouth away from Roach’s, still holding tight to his hair to keep him in place. He gave a downright predatory grin toward Roach, a small chuckle slipping from his lips. “Is that all you can give as a struggle? I thought you’d at least pretend that you didn’t want me.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Roach hissed, shoving at Soap’s chest harder, “and get the fuck off of me you fucking asshole!”

“God,” Soap bounced his leg, forcing a small whine from Roach’s throat, “Look at you. You want my cock so bad, don’t you baby?” He yanked Roach away from the wall and, with a small fight between the two men, eventually forced Roach to the ground, splayed out on his back with his legs bracketing Soap’s waist. The towel around his waist was lost in the struggle, so he could do nothing but shiver at the cold press of tile against his back and feel shame creeping up his spine as Soap drank in the sight of his cunt.

Roach squirmed in Soap’s grasp, trying to kick his legs out and at the very least get the man to look anywhere other than where his gaze was fixed. It only resulted in Soap’s hands gripping tight to his thighs, tight enough to bruise, all to hold him in place as he took in his fill. Roach could have died from embarrassment as he felt heat pooling in his gut from the move. Between his thighs felt much slicker than it had moments ago and based on the shit-eating grin that crossed Soap’s face, he’d noticed it.

“Like being manhandled, don’t you?” Soap leaned down and nipped at his chest, following the move with a quick soothing slide of his tongue. Roach gasped at the feeling and reacted on instinct, reaching out to smack at Soap’s shoulder, glaring at him as he did. Soap didn’t let that go too easily, immediately removing his hands from Roach’s thighs to pin his arms down. He lowered himself until his face was hovering just over Roach’s, his clothed cock pressed tight against Roach’s wet cunt. “That wasn’t very nice.”

Soap rolled his hips forward, starting a slow rolling grind of his hips, groaning and panting as he did. He didn’t hide how much he was enjoying himself, from rutting his hard cock against Roach and panting desperately in his ear, it was clear that this alone was quite enough for him. Roach couldn’t deny the desire that sparked in him at being treated in such a way, like nothing more than a pillow for Soap to hump. Nothing more than an object, a toy, for Soap to use.

He tried to bite back his own moans at the friction of Soap’s sweatpants rubbing against his clit, but the feeling of it was too fucking good and not quite enough of what he wanted. He could tamper down most of his moans, but the gasping breaths and the whimpers were another story, and Soap’s laughter against his ear was enough to tell Roach that he’d noticed.

“Doesn’t this feel right, bug? Pressed under my cock just like you were meant to be.”

Roach clenched his jaw and did his best to speak clearly around the ever-growing arousal in his chest and his own desire to just stop fighting against what Soap was saying. The slow pressure against his clit was almost enough to have him admitting it, admitting that he liked it and that this was exactly where he was meant to be. Instead, he responded, “Pinned under you when I’d rather it be anyone else? Nothing’s ever felt more wrong.”

“Well,” Soap pulled back and gave a wicked grin, his eyes tracing down Roach’s body as he spoke, “the wet spot at the front of my sweatpants says different, love. That’s all from this sweet cunt weeping for me.” He shifted Roach’s arms into one hand before tracing his fingers down Roach’s body until they met his cunt. He paused for a moment, a teasing heat right where Roach’s body was begging for his touch, he didn’t make the wait long.

His fingers traced along Roach’s slit slowly, collecting slick on them to make the sudden press against his clit all the smoother. Roach’s back nearly arched from the tile floors at the feeling, a strangled moan escaping his mouth as he tried to fight back the evidence of his pleasure. Soap looked like the cat who’d got the cream at the move, a smug sense of satisfaction radiating from his body as he worked his fingers in slow circles against Roach. Roach did his best to keep them down, but moans seemed to spill from his lips even without his permission.

“Do you,” he started, cutting himself off with a whimper and a slight tug against Soap’s hand as his hips jumped up against the fingers playing at him. “Do you not hear yourself?” His breathing was labored and Soap’s eyes seemed fixated on his body. From the red flush over his skin to the way that his fingers looked against his puffy clit. “What are you, some sort of dog? Salivating like I’m a slab of meat.”

Soap gave a quick playful snap of his teeth just by his neck, his fingers slipping away from Roach’s clit to begin toying at his slit. He pressed the tip of his finger into Roach, holding it there for a moment, his eyes wide and his mouth falling open just a bit as he began to sink the digit inside of Roach’s body. “I’ll fuck you like a dog,” he spoke, his voice sounding breathy and desperate. To Roach, it sounded like the other man was on a precarious edge, bound to fall and turn to something more violent.

Roach only gave a small hum of pleasure as Soap sunk his finger in to the knuckle. Soap’s fingers were thick, thicker than his own and he was sure that if he was going to take the man’s cock, this would be necessary. “Need this, don’t you,” Soap muttered. “Cunts fucking tight, gonnae feel real good around me.”

Roach let his head knock back against the tile floor harshly, trying to get some sort of grip on himself as Soap began to slowly work his finger in and out of him, giving shallow little thrusts and crooks that just weren’t the right pace. It was a desperate few moments, but, finally, Roach stopped pretending that he didn’t want what was happening.

His hips bucked up against Soap’s fingers, pulling a desperate moan from his mouth and surprising Soap enough that he paused, eyes wide. Roach could have shouted from the frustration he felt in that moment, instead, he settled on snapping, “You talk such a big game, come on then. Fuck me and maybe if you actually manage to get me off with your clumsy fingers and weak cock I’ll let you do it again.”

Soap blinked wide at him for a moment before his face morphed into a brief picture of delighted rage. “Fucking slut.” He didn’t give Roach any sort of prep before shoving a second finger inside of him, immediately setting a rough pace with a slap of his palm against Roach’s clit with every thrust of his fingers. “We’ll see if you can still talk that shit when I’ve got you begging like a bitch in heat.”

Roach moaned at the thought, his eyes fluttering just a bit as Soap’s hands grew just a bit rougher, a bit more possessive and demanding. The fingers fucking into his cunt were so good, filling and stretching him just right. Just right enough to have him squirming and jerking his hips up, already begging for another as they scissored him open and curled against his walls cruelly. It resulted in downright embarrassing noises spilling from his mouth, even as Soap gave him what he asked for and slowly began to work a third finger inside of him.

“Have ta’ spread you open real good,” Soap’s words were spoken in a near growl, something rather brutal and beastly in the way that his hands tightened and his fingers became crueler, his thumb finding his clit to press him with constant stimulation. Roach was practically shaking as Soap leaned down, allowing his mouth to attack the exposed skin of his chest.

His teeth and tongue began to tease at one of Roach’s nipples, laughter shaking his chest as Roach pressed up into the touch. “What happened to that fire, ah? Cat got your tongue?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Roach managed to mutter around the pleasure that seemed to be blocking his throat, “and keep fucking touching me.”

“What was that?” Soap’s words betrayed exactly what he wanted to hear, punctuated with the slowing of his fingers as they worked at Roach’s cunt.

Roach gave a desperate whimper at the sudden loss of stimulation, tossing in Soap’s grasp in an attempt to gain even a little bit of it back. It didn’t work, and soon he found himself glaring up at Soap, shame burning his chest. “Fuck you.”

“Not until you ask me properly,” Soap teased.

“Fuck,” Roach tossed his head back with a desperate sob. He knew that Soap would hold him to it as well. The man was a fucking sniper for god sake, he had to have the patience and control of a saint when he needed it and Roach would bet anything that he needed it now. “Please,” he spoke the words quietly.

“What was that?”

“Please,” Roach spoke louder, a desperate sob pulling from his throat, “Please, Soap, just fuck me.”

“I thought you didn’t want it,” Soap leaned closer, letting his thumb just brush against Roach’s clit slowly, pulling another pleasured sob from Roach’s throat. “What was it you said? You’d prefer it if it was anyone else?”

“No,” Roach shook his head desperately. “Please, please I want it. Only need you to fuck me, need your cock. Please, Soap!”

Soap gave a careful chuckle, pulling his fingers from Roach’s cunt and slowly releasing his arms. His hands moved down to the waistband of his sweatpants and Roach watched through the fog hazing over his mind as Soap pulled his sweatpants and boxers down over his ass, allowing him to finally get a look at the thick hard cock that had been straining against the material. Roach nearly moaned at the sight of it, knowing that it would feel fucking perfect splitting him open.

Roach spread his legs wide for the man, moaning at the feeling of those hands returning to his thighs, one of them now covered in his own arousal. Their grip was near bruising as Soap lined his cock up with Roach’s cunt, slowly pushing himself until he had just the tip resting inside of Roach. He paused there, tilting his head back with a guttural groan before his eyes returned to Roach’s. They were clouded in lust, but Roach could still see the amusement that plagued them as he teased, “Told you I’d have you moaning like a bitch in heat.”

Roach didn’t get a chance to respond before Soap slammed his hips forward, sinking all the way into his cunt with one smooth move. There was no chance to speak, no chance to even adjust as Soap continued pounding into him, driving his hips deeper and deeper into him with every thrust. Roach’s hands locked onto his shoulders, grabbing tight in desperation for any sort of stabilization.

Each rock of Soap’s hips sent Roach’s entire body knocking knocking harshly against the floor. Even Soap’s bruising grip on his thighs, the same one that he was using to keep Roach firmly in place, wasn’t enough against the strong thrusts that threatened to bruise his hips. There was something so good about the slide of Soap’s cock, every line and curve of it rubbing so perfectly inside of him, teasing parts of him that he was sure no one else had ever managed to touch.

His nails dug into Soap’s shoulders, aiming to hurt even as the man above him sent pleasure coursing down his spine. He could see Soap wince and something about that brought a sick sense of satisfaction to him. At least that was until Soap gave him a grin, “Is that what you want baby? You want to hurt me a little?” He jerked down, slamming his mouth against Roach’s in a bruising kiss. His tongue invaded Roach’s mouth, sending their teeth clacking together and their noses bumping painfully. “Go on, Bug,” he pulled back, nipping at Roach’s lips until blood was spilling down his chin, “just know I’ll take full permission to hurt you back.”

He pulled back again, resuming the quick pace of his hips as he leaned over Roach’s body, panting with blood on his lips. His eyes never seemed to leave Roach’s face, as though he was afraid to miss any second of pleasure from him. Roach couldn’t stand to hold his gaze, the mere thought of it making his face burn hotter than was comfortable for him. He needed something to focus on, something other than Soap and the intense look in his eyes.

He found it in the form of a swinging disk in front of his face. It slipped out from Soap’s wife beater, a shiny silver little disk that took to swaying with every thrust of his hips. Roach found himself mesmerized by it, the continued sway of silver and the near-melodic sound of skin slapping skin harshly. Roach had to fight against the desire to grab it and use it to yank the man down for another kiss, hoping to bite and bruise at his lip just the way he’d done to him.

The thought of it pulled a whine from his lips and he couldn’t help but arch up into the other man, desperate to feel more than just his hands on his skin. More than just the fat cock pounding into him and sending heat building between his legs. Everything was so good, so terribly fucking good and he hated it.

“Fuck, fuck you’re so fucking good.” Soap released one of his thighs to skate his hand across Roach’s bare chest, teasing at his nipples for a slow moment. He let his hand trace further up, wrapping around Roach’s neck loosely, providing only a slight pressure as he continued muttering filth. “Fucking slut, practically squeezing my cock. You’ve wanted this, haven’t you?”

“Fuck,” Roach whined, “You fucking perv, gonna be stroking your cock thinking about this for the next year, aren’t you?” He wrapped his hands around Soap’s wrist, lightly holding his hand in place against his neck. “Probably draw this in your little book of fantasies you sick fuck.”

Soap groaned at the words, a small smirk formed on his lips as he responded, “Don’t worry, I’ll make you a copy to have.” He tightened his grip momentarily, just flexing his hands. It reminded Roach of the power that the man had over him at the moment, and it only made him feel that much closer to spilling over Soap’s cock.

“Bet you’d like that,” Roach had to work around his moans and the heavy breathing that a simple hand on his throat caused. “Probably imagine me with my fingers on my clit, maybe riding a cock screaming your name.”

Soap grasped tight to his neck then, using the grip to guide Roach’s back from the ground until they were face to face. He tilted his head, a nasty snarl on his face, “Now who’s the fucking dog.” He was quick to grab Roach’s arms, manhandling him around until he was on his hands and knees, Soap’s cock still spearing in and out of him. “Let me fuck you like the dog you are.” A short moment passed before Roach could feel a warm metal settle around his neck. A single look down and he could see that it was Soap’s I.D. disk. The mere sight of it was enough to have him moaning out, his arms giving out under him and forcing him to fall forward roughly against the tile. “And there’s my bitches collar.”

Roach was sure that people outside of the locker room had to be able to hear them. There was no way that they couldn’t, not when Soap was fucking into his cunt so violently and pulling screams of his name from his lips like flowing wine. He couldn’t help himself, he couldn’t keep quiet. Not when his body was burning hot, contrasting with such a heavenly feeling against the cool tile of the floor. Not when he was sure that he wasn’t going to be walking straight by the time Soap finished with him. Not when he wasn’t sure that he was going to be able to resist another night like this with the pervert slamming his cock inside of him.

He couldn’t form any words, couldn’t get his mouth to cooperate. He couldn’t get his brain to provide any help, his mind so foggy that any thoughts of insults were long past what he was capable of. All that he could do was scream and whine and beg for Soap to keep going. Keep going because it was the best he’d ever had. Keep going because he was so fucking desperate for him. Keep going because he was right there, right there at the edge.

Soap never stopped. Roach could hear his smug laughter and he could practically see that smug fucking smirk on his face, but it did nothing to cut through the overwhelming pleasure pulsing through him. The pleasure built and built until his toes were curling and his cunt was clenching and he was coming over Soap’s cock with his vision going black and a pitiful scream pulled from his mouth.

He could hardly register anything. Not Soap’s hips stuttering and the curses falling from his lips. Not the choked-out delight that the man gave as he fucked into Roach only a few more times before creating even more of a mess by filling him with his cum. Not the way that Soap continued to move, fucking his cum into Roach. Not even the slick dripping down his legs to pool into the puddle he’d created on the ground, the remnants of one of the most intense orgasms that he’d had in his life.

When he finally was able to realize what was going on around him, it was because he was being lifted from the ground, Soap’s cock still snug inside of his cunt as he was forced to wrap his legs around the other's waist and his arms around his neck. He could only watch dumbly as Soap brought them over to one of the shower stalls and turned the handle, shocking them both with a burst of cold water over their bodies. It was soon soothed by a stream of warm water, though Roach thought perhaps the cold would have been better as he was pressed against the wall of the little shower stall.

“Not done with you yet,” Soap grunted, his eyes still showing a sort of intense hunger that had Roach’s cunt pulsing with need. “I’ve got other ways to make you scream my name and I don’t think I’ve heard you begging quite enough for my tastes. Have to put my dog to work, don’t I?”

Roach was walking with a limp the next day. His legs were still shaky and there were bruises on his thighs and his neck and he was sure he looked exhausted. Soap hadn’t let him get too much sleep the night before. Plain and simple, Roach was sure he looked a mess as he stumbled into the conference room where Gaz, Ghost, and Price were waiting for him and Soap.

Soap wasn’t there yet, a bit of a blessing as Roach was sure that he wouldn’t be able to handle looking at the man quite yet. It was too much, too soon. He needed a moment around the others before he could face Soap again. God knows when he’d be able to face the man alone again.

As he stumbled into the conference room, he did his best to look as normal as he could. It clearly didn’t work as, within a second, Ghost was at his side. His arm wrapped around Roach’s waist, his hand grabbing at his upper thigh to help stabilize him as he stood. Roach felt himself go a bit red, noticing the scrutinizing gaze that Price sent his way. Gaz seemed to be watching him just as closely as though he was also trying to figure out what had happened.

“Not going to fall on me, are you?” Ghost asked, his voice dropping into a soft mutter.

Roach was quick to shake his head, an embarrassed smile lighting up his face. “No, sorry I uh, rough night last night.”

Price leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m guessing Soap finally stopped with his little games and took you like he wanted?”

Roach could feel shock rush through his body, nearly knocking him over and forcing him to lean further onto Ghost for support. Ghost didn’t seem to mind much, simply, tightening his grip. “You,” he stuttered over himself for a moment, “You knew?”

“What,” Gaz was the one who chimed in, a small innocent smile on his face, “You think Soap was making those drawings just for him? Think he was able to sneak into your room so easily without a key from the cap?” He leaned forward then, tapping the table and shaking his head at Roach, “Didn’t think you were that naive, Bug.”

Roach gaped at the two men for a moment, his eyes shooting between them. “Maybe,” Price started, reaching into one of his pockets to pull out a cigar, “he’ll share some of the new ones, based on the real thing with us.”

“Fuck,” Gaz gave a groan and leaned back in his seat, his eyes dragging along Roach’s body. “Maybe if we’re lucky he’ll share the real thing with us.”

“I think,” Roach felt dizzy for a moment, “I think I need to sit down.”

Immediately, Ghost started helping him toward one of the seats at the little conference table, but Roach wasn’t a fool. He could feel Ghost’s hand slide purposely from his thigh over his ass, grasping at him for a short moment before sliding his hand up to trace along his waist. Roach nearly fell into the seat as soon as he was able, his eyes wide as he looked up at Ghost. “You too?”

Ghost made a point to lean close to him, so close that Roach could feel his breath through the mask before he finally whispered, “Sounded good yelling for Johnny last night. You’ll sound better screaming for me.”

He stood up straight then, as though he hadn’t said anything at all, and started back toward his seat, plopping down with a casual move that had Roach feeling dizzy.

He supposed he should have seen this coming. After all, the only way that Soap could have gotten away with all that he did was if he had a team backing him. A team with the same perverted fantasies running through their minds.

#gary roach sanderson #call of duty #john soap mactavish #captain john price #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #soaproach #soap/roach #call of duty fanfic #call of duty fanfiction

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cherie-doll · 6 months ago

Text

I said "do you think you'll kill for me one day?"

(Yes, of course I will, my darling)

― yandere!cod men x reader ― ε price, ghost, soap, gaz, roach, makarov, alejandro, rudy, phillip graves, keegan, könig, horangi, nikto з suggestive?

꒰ ͜ ‿ ͜ ♡ ͜ ‿ ͜ ꒱

ଘ You're no plaything for Price. He doesn't just like you, he adores you. Cups your pretty face in his hands; delicately. His rugged and rough hands become gentle as soon as he comes into contact with your skin, treating it as if it were finely-grained porcelain. He treats you the exact opposite of how he treats anyone else. Whilst he leaves everyone else covered from head to toe in blood for coming near you, you're covered from head to toe in the most expensive items you wish for. But, he doesn't want you to forget that his money doesn't represent his love for you, it does not begin to cover not even half of what it should. He'll be sure to remind you not to be spoiled rotten. He's fond of you and while he's interested in you, you should listen and obey to what he advices you. He is more experienced after all.

ଘ Compare what Simon's scars and bruises are to your unscathed body. Let his hands roam over your body, taking in all he works for. Let them wander and familiarize with what he's toying with. His breath on your skin as it quickens, losing his train of thoughts as he fondles you. He's convinced you're meant only for him. No one else should touch you this way, no one could do it like he does. And please return it! Cradle his head in your lap, so the sizzling subsides and he feels alive. Let him know he's the best, the one. Let him lean in and capture those soft, plump lips in a passionate kiss. Don't pull away, don't deny him his heaven. And don't you dare let anyone else trail your body with their eyes like he does. Why, he'll feel as if they're already doing what their mind desires. He's screwed up in his mind but he'll move heaven and earth for those thighs to wrap around his waist at night spilling the warmth between them. Make him feel warm and welcome, give him the world he burns everyone else for. He sacrifices others at the feet of your altar.

ଘ Johnny's smug smile can fade rather quickly with one sensual move from you, watch him get lost as his breath is winded and his body is overtaken with an all-consuming fire of passion. Oh, he can't even fathom the idea of anyone before or after him experiencing such things. He'll be paralyzed the moment you sit on his lap and putting your hand to his chest, let it trail over his heart which at the moment beats wildly. It's a sensation he experiences when plunging a knife deep within someone else's chest, he reckons the feeling is almost the same. He thinks his victims rather lucky they die this way. How many other people can experience that fleeting, overwhelming feeling?

ଘ Kyle's hand kisses are done with such reverent trembling and respect that he'll have your skin tingling with warm sensations as if the late evening sun was seeping into your skin. Let his and your body blend together like the watercolors on an artist's canvas does. Bask in his affection like you'll sunbathe on the beach. Take in all the good he brings you, accept every touch of his that starts with a secure embrace and ends with the colliding of your bodies. The cold with which he lashes out for others has no place with the gentleness he entreats you with. Keep your eyes on his, locked in his steady gaze immerses himself in fantasies. He feels dizzy as if his world was spinning, losing himself in the sensations. And after the elation, let him shower you in praises, caresses and gifts. Let him buy you two rings for each finger, how many could you want to show off having a caring partner when you slide his card at the register? Make your hands look pretty whilst his are leaving a trail of crimson blood after him.

ଘ Roach couldn't ever hurt anyone else, he didn't know what he was capable of until the importance of you came all too clear. You're something that shouldn't belong to anyone else in the world. It's a quick descent down the spiral of violent devotion. His soft gaze usually filled with admiration and sentiment for you hardens, his pupils dilating as fear takes over. He's only acting on behalf of all his anguish, you haven't the heart to condemn him. He's shown you what your heart is worth, couldn't you give him some sort of heaven? He will do very well at whatever it is you ask of him, just wait while he shows you. There isn't anyone else like him he says over and over as if a prayer or spell he could make come true.

ଘ Makarov does not care whether he deserves you or not. Unlike the others who will commit unspeakable acts out of guilt and use their "pure" intentions to purify their actions, Makarov is selfish and relentless in what he wants. He does not flinch at your attempts of control, it's lost the moment he takes you in. He's determined to taste everything you have to offer, whether it's willingly or not. But he does like things to be served on a platter for him, he also has no problem taking it himself. Let the hand on the back of your neck guide you in the direction you are to walk, be docile and you'll surely receive tenderness. He can never deny that he loves the way your lashes flutter as you look through them up at him as he pats your head for being so good. Overtime you might notice small details showing his exterior cracking and revealing the soft, white underbelly of affection. He feels as if his chest caves in from your actions, the subtle red at the tip of his ears. Keep pulling at his neck collar, he'll like that fake sense of control you have.

ଘ You wouldn't ever catch a glimpse of Alejandro's manipulative strategies until he finds someone threatening. Is it wrong you're not seeing enough of other people? His biggest fear is you falling for someone else, the danger of you getting too close to someone is palpable for him. The intimacy you two share is from the harvest he's worked so hard for. He's been slaving away for so long to just let someone else lay a hand on you. He kneads you into what he desires, anything to feel the beating heart in your chest which pumps only for him. He'll keep polishing you until he gets down to the bare essence of you, which he can only dream to capture. The rhythm he wants to feel rushing through his veins, circling throughout his body.

ଘ Rudy's tenderness blinds you as he takes you to what you can only describe to be paradise. With the shining of luxury, all new and just for you he says. He'll press a million sweet kisses on your face before dropping that a most bothersome person will no longer be graced by your presence ever again. To him it's like a quiet act of love, to you, it's unimaginable. Don't worry your head will all the details, isn't it better to have no worries? He's all smooth indulgence telling you to keep looking at the adorned future he has ahead for you, telling you not to pay attention to the blood that stains the walls of the hallways you walk. He would lay out a new, fancy red carpet over the corpses for you to step over and continue in this fabricated dream.

ଘ Phillip knows exactly how to get the best out of you. Can you blame a man for knowing how to get what he wants from you? Let him tease and tug for he knows what every maneuver of his does. The hands that massage your skin don't get dirty, he'll always have others ready and willing to carry out whatever order he gives. It's what he's accustomed to and how he intends to keep it. But the droplets of blood that splatter do not miss his skin. The stain is still there, still under the skin of the thumb he pushes inside of you, feeling around for that bliss. Let his protectiveness clothe your body, he's already blurring the lines between obsessiveness and possessiveness.

ଘ Keegan's eyes will have you coming to a stumbling halt. Asking for something only you know how to give so good. Those erratic eyes that are unpredictable as they are deep, representing the deep dive you have to be holding your breath for. Are you ready to indulge? Because the impact will have you gasping for air, and when you try to take one you'll only swallow a mouthful of carnal desire. He ignites such a heat it's scalding to the touch, you don't know what's happening it's like you lose control. It happens so fast that when it's all over you'll let his lips, from which hot breaths slip through, kiss all over your sweat glistened body. His eyes might be softer and hold it for a while until he's back to the merciless, cold gaze which freezes everyone's else blood, feeling it lump within their veins.

ଘ Let König go on his fast rampages. They're over quick anyways. And afterwards, when he comes back, cradle his head between your thighs his tongue tangling as he stutters out promises to buy you what you wish if only you let him lap at your sweetness until his thoughts are left to reckless abandonment. Let him get what he can't get anywhere else. Call him handsome as your bury your fingers into his hair, your fingertips trailing his jaw and down his neck to where his adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard. Place kisses on his cheek until he turns his head in one swift motion and captures your lips in a desperate kiss. He wants it all, wants all of you all at once it makes him messy, shaky and weak. But he just wants someone to hold him, rubbing his ears and whispering words of affirmation in his ear.

ଘ Horangi could care less what other's want from him. You're in his viewpoint and he's determined to apply as much pressure as possible to make you bend. The reason he justifies himself with is the lullaby he's lulled to sleep with. Everyone else wants something from him, why shouldn't you? Everyone else is just in the way, he says over and over again, trying to make you focus on his lips instead of the bodies on the floor. With what he's done, he expects a standing ovation from you, nothing but complete adoration and servitude. He's a man who chases after impulses, who knows how long until this candle runs out. For now, ignore the brusque hand and acknowledge the underlying intents. He'll keep this lecherous momentum going until you're feeling faint from the mere touch of his hand.

ଘ Resignation is a trait Nikto works hard to work out of you. Surely, you ought to trust him after all he's done for you. In his mind, he's dedicated such gentle caring to you, you should be grateful. Don't be afraid to take directly out of his hand, he prefers you lose that skepticism. And when you do start to gentle, oh he can never get enough of it. His fingers grazing and gliding over your body at any and every chance he can get. Let him delve deeper into you, it's only natural for him to want to know you better. Every quiver of yours, he feels through the epidermis of his skin. He just knows you that well. His jerking movements shouldn't startle you by now. Maybe if you were more open, you would be telling him what you want. Give him some sort of sign before that spark ignites an unyielding fire. Because to him, that trembling is a sign of a smoldering fierceness waiting to break through.

:¨ ·.· ¨: `· . ꔫ

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