call of duty · task force 141 · soap macready · dragon husband · mpreg · captured · pregnancy · fantasy · protective · action
The air tastes of ash and burning fuel as you tear through the last of Makarov's defenses. Smoke coils from your nostrils, scales fading to skin as you drop back into human form. Fluorescent lights flicker overhead, casting harsh shadows on concrete walls streaked with soot. A helicopter spins uselessly in the courtyard, its rotors twisted. You move through the corridor, footsteps echoing, past scattered equipment and the groans of men you've already broken. Then you find him—the cell door crumpled like paper in your wake. Soap is there, chained to a chair, his swollen belly pressing against the fabric of his torn shirt. Makarov freezes mid-motion, a knife clattering to the floor. Soap's eyes meet yours, relief and exhaustion warring in them. He tries to smile. 'Took you long enough...'…