Male Characters x Male!Reader !One-Shots!

John 'Soap' MacTavish x Male!Reader [Angst&Fluff]

Game; Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 (2022)

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Warning; kidnapping, reader gets tortured, descriptions of blood, wounds, and broken bones, high-ranked!reader (probs captain), Scottish word taken out from Mr.Google, mentions of ptsd (sorry if it is inaccurate)

Things were under control. Everything was okay, working as it should work.

Or so it seemed.

One moment, (M/n) was boarding the evacuation helicopter, and the next one, everything erupted in flames.

His semi-conscious self saw with blurry sight how enemy troops were getting near them, and he stumbled as he stood up, trying to fight off anyone that got close to him, but the stock of a gun hit him in the head, his sight fading out and his body being held by strange arms as he got taken away by the enemy.

Before completely passing out, (M/n) heard the distinctive voice of his husband calling his name, "(M/n)!" The pain and desperation in Soap's voice was the last thing he heard as he got taken away, the loud, rumbly sound of the engine muffling everything else.

//////

When he wakes up, he's chained to the metal walls of what seems to be a container. A single light on the corner by the door, even as dim as it is, it hurts his eyes, his head pounding from the pain making him groan in pain and close his eyes. He lowered his head and realizes, not only he's chained up by his wrists, his feet barely grace the cold metal of the metal floor, putting a strain on his shoulders and arms, a strain he so desperately tries to relieve.

(M/n) glances around for a few seconds, trying to spot anything that could free him or help him in some way, but the only thing is a chair opposite from where he is, a small metal table beside it, and (M/n) doesn't wanna think what's for.

He wonders when the dude that ordered his kidnapping was gonna come. He knew what these things entailed, he was gonna be punched, cut, and let him starving as a way to make him talk, but (M/n) knew better.

Giving them any information would end up in them killing him after getting what they wanted. He knew Soap was looking for him, they'll find him soon...

//////

(M/n) had no idea what day was, what time it was, he just knew that, a certain day of the week, a dude with a camera would come up, these days were the worst ones, he was left hanging on a thread.

Forced to keep his eyes open, punches to his torso that would keep him awake, grunting as he felt how his ribs broke, dark bruises covering his body from head to toe. His clothes were tattered, his face dripping blood and sweat, along with the occasional tear he would let out, too weak to prevent them.

Laughter would echo in the container, watching such a respectable male cry like a baby after being bruised a little.

Even so, even if he was barely alive, (M/n) always found a way to talk back at them, a little sarcastic comment that would, inevitably, end up in more bruises and cuts, leaving him there bleeding and in pain.

(M/n) never said a word, no matter how hard he was beaten up, how many times his skin was cut open, and how he would be told that no one was gonna come to save him. His eyes had held so much hatred and anger in them, his jaw clenching as he observed them leave him for the day, taking the camera that had been recording with them.

And just when he knew he was alone, he would let his head hang low, warm tears running down his face, mixing with the dry blood and slowly dripping to the cold floor beneath his feet.