#Call of duty modern warfare 2

[toomanywordsnllines]

Tumblr gets to see it first 😌 The yearning for ghoap art has been too much for the little (non extistent) (i barely have time to sleep) time I have sooooo I put them into my concept assigment :D!!

We had to draw centaurs! I made soap a kelpie and Ghost a skelly horse that has bones that ✨shine ✨

Also I wish I had had time to render the jewelry on Ghost 😭 I was gonna make it so pretty

[annaphoenix1994]

It Goes On - Simon Riley x OG Female Character Fanfiction Novel - Book l Masterlist

Assigned by Station Chief Kate Laswell, Case Officer Kiera Dutton is assigned to track and locate the missing American missiles as well as the threat of Quds Force Major Hassan Zyani. Befriending Ghost during her missions was not indeed part of her plan, but it was hard to ignore the reckoning that yearned for the other over time. How soon will Ghost let her break down his walls he had worked so hard to put up over the years? This will be no easy task, he would think. Boy, was he wrong! Yellowstone x Call of Duty Crossover! Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, songs, characters, businesses, places, events, locations, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner (Paramount Network and Activision Publishing). Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended for malicious use. Song inspiring this series: "It Goes On" by Zac Brown and Sir Rosevelt

Masterlist Below:

Author's Interpretation of Characters

Aftershock

Borderline

Cartel Protection

Close Air

Interrogation

Reconnaissance

El Sin Nombre - 1

El Sin Nombre - 2

Devil's Deal

When the World Fades

Dark Water

Uncharted Territory

Whiskey Fever

Everlasting Lover

Something in the Orange

No Stone Unturned

Hell or High Water

Ain't Gonna Drown

Among Us

Silver Run

No Kindness for the Coward

White Flag

Beat

Aftermath

Homeward

Familiar Touch

Dutton Christmas - 1

Dutton Christmas - 2

Dutton Christmas - 3

The Storm

Yours

Touching Your Enemy

Friends Close, Enemies Closer

The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie

War Stories

Vague History

Tensions High

Sabotage

Black Powder Soul

Meaner Than Evil

Intertwine

Let Me Love You

Help From a Friend

Triangle Betrayal

[electricchaser]

09 Ghost has a designated chair in Soap's office.

Soap doesn't clue into it at first. In the beginning, it was just an extra chair stuck in the corner of his office. It was old and worn, and he had a newer one in the other corner, but it was only for him to use when he needed a break while working, or for company, so he didn't care to replace it. Then Ghost started hanging around after hours, or even just during the workday, tending to his own responsibilities while Soap worked, but every time he'd sit in that exact chair. It confused Soap for a minute, and at first he'd try to make small talk, not wanting Ghost to feel uncomfortable or unwelcome, but eventually he catches on that Ghost isn't interested in conversation, or any interaction. He just doesn't want to be alone. Just wants to have a little company without the pressure of actually having to engage in social activities.

So Soap doesn't say anything when some of Ghost's belongings, officeware and paperwork start accumulating in a small bin under the chair overtime.

He doesn't say anything when he walks up to his office one afternoon to do some paperwork, only to find it unlocked and a bell set on top to alert anyone inside, and merely sits down at his desk to work on his reports when he sees Ghost curled up and out cold in the chair.

He doesn't bring it up when he continues to find Ghost curled up in his chair, sleeping or otherwise, even when Soap isn't in his office. Eventually he gets used to Ghost just being an accessory to his office, like a picture frame or a little basket of pens, always there, even when he wasn't.

He does say something when another recruit is in his office and they go to sit in that chair and he's struck with this overwhelming feeling of just... wrong and politely but firmly directs them to the other chair because 'that's not their chair'.

The first time Soap walked into his office after Shepperd's betrayal, and he sets eyes on that empty chair, he feels like a cold bucket of water was dumped over him, because seeing that chair empty has a whole different meaning now. It didn't mean Ghost was just off training or busy with other things. It didn't mean Ghost was just tied up somewhere else busy working. No, now that empty chair was a sign of pain. A symbol, of how Soap had been betrayed, a constant reminder of how the person that chair belonged to was no longer around to use it.

It takes a solid three weeks of Soap gathering his things and working somewhere else on base before he can finally stand the thought of sitting in his otherwise empty office to do his paperwork. The first time he does, he has to take multiple breaks to sob and pull at his hair and curse the world, and curse himself because damn it he should've known better than to get used to something that could get taken away from him so easily.

A few months later, Soaps snaps at an ignorant rookie who sees the old worn out chair and suggests getting rid of it, replacing it with something in better shape, and he only has half a heart to feel bad after the fact.

That chair never leaves Soap's office, even after he dies, because Price knew. He knew and he doesn't have the heart to clear out Soap's office. Not yet. Not for a long time. It isn't until Price leaves active duty and someone else takes over that that office gets cleared out, and even then, that chair and most of the belongings in that office leave with Price, set up and stored safely in a room in his house, because he'll be damned if he lets the only things left of his teammates just get thrown away, like they never mattered. Because they mattered to each other, more than anything or anyone else.

[beescrafting]

Please Johnny come back to me.

4 months, 14 days, and 36 minutes… thats how long it had been since Johnny was KIA.

That much time had passed and yet his heart still ached, the feeling of feelings hitting harder each time he tried to suppress them. Simon wasn't a therapy guy, he was the kind of guy to suppress everything until it came to much to bare, have a mental break down for a day, and then continue the same pattern over and over again. That was until Johnny at least… Because with Johnny it felt like he had some comfort, someone he could keep from the path he had been on… He kept Johnny off the path of darkness only for Johnny to end up on the path of death himself.

Makes sense to be fair… that the Ghost would lead his Johnny to death, what a person he was… He was the cause of this, death follows him around like a looming cloud and it takes those he cares about. It hurt him so bad, it made him ache, it made every part of his heart, soul, and mind ache with such pain.

Ghost grumbled opening his eyes, he looked at Gaz who sat across him right next to the captain. They were being send out on a mission, it was a mission involving some damn gas, the same gas that Makarov had been working on… Fucking Makarov, at least that prick was dead and gone…

Price grumbled fixing his weapon a bit, Ghost gaze went towards his captain, his captain who he was able to save at least… but just that once…

"You with us Ghost?" Price grumbled looking at the Lieutenant.

Ghost simply nodded.

"alright, we have to be quick.. in and get a hold of the gas, its in the southern part of the warehouse, Simon you will head straight there, Gaz and I will take the east and west wing and together will take the north after shipping the gas out." Price reminded Ghost of the mission and its details. That was good. Very good.

~~

They had landed a bit of a distance away from the warehouse what ever it took to get this damn mission done… Ghost slowly approched hte building, knifing anyone in his way. He wouldn't use his gun until he got the go ahead form Price.

5 dead, more to come…

Ghost with cold eyes watched as another man got to close to the shadows, he was quickly delt with a quick throat slash and he was gone. Left to gurgle on his blood and die in the mud. Simon crushed his radio in front of him watching the fear and light leave his eyes. Every time he did this now he only imagined Makarov's face, that brought back satisfaction to him.

He moved forward going into the building, making sure as to be as silent and stone cold as the reaper that stole Johnny from him. The dim green lights of the building gave it an old chill, like something was wrong here, something deeper then what Simon could tell.

With his feet on the move, with his whole body on the move he made it to the room where the gas was being held and created. A lab.. with tubes large enough to hold a person of his size as well.. "Found the gas, waiting for orders" Ghost grumbled into his coms as he went through the room. He found the papers on how the gas is made, as well as… human experimentation.. tch… of fucking course.

Ghost read through the report, skimming it a bit.

Gender: Male Height: 187.9 cm tall (6'2) Nationality: Scottish

Ghost heart froze for a moment, thinking of Johnny as he skimmed over the nationality of this person…

His heart ached thinking about Johnny, his Johnny… His sergeant… With a deep heavy heart he took the papers as well, they would be useful for later in research and evidence.

He put the files next to the gas before walking around the room, moving some things around before he found a strange rug… He grumbled moving it to the side, bring it away to reveal a door hatch.

"found a door hatch" Ghost grumbled over the coms, their was no response from the others… something was fucking wrong, deadly wrong…

The silence over coms made this whole mission worse. At least until Gaz's voice grumbled over the coms, "copy, be there soon"

Price gave a quick gruff, "search the room."

ok… so they were okay and fine, not dead… that's good, he doesn't need nor want anymore dead teammates after all. Ghost opened the door hatch moving his night vision goggles on turning them on as he headed down the stairs. This could be more storage for gas, meaning they could have underestimated how much these fuckers have.

Once he reached the bottom of the flight of stairs he continued through the room, shifting through the stuff around it was only wooden crates of the gas no doubt. He frowned, before noticing the door. He frowned scowling in anger and rage. How many rooms of gas did they need? What were they planning, what were they doing?!

Ghost went to the door trying the handle.

Locked… Of fucking course it was.

"Found a locked room, breaching now" Ghost grumbled before kicking the damn door down. He had to move, get through this room before returning back up their to guard what they had come for.

He looked through the room, raising his weapon. It was dark without his night vision goggles thus him having to do a overtake of a humanoid figure…

Wait… No… it couldn't be…

Slowly the person turned around the slights dimly flickering on in a dark green color..

"Johnny?" Ghost croaked out before he attacked, the man he loved was alive but fighting him.

No… No… NO!

Ghost dropped his gun instead taking Johnny's wrist when another punch was thrown and took him down to the floor. He had the other pinned down underneath him as he stared into the others eyes… His brown hazel eyes that were like dark voids peering into Johnny's eyes… they were the peaceful ocean blue he knew and loved, they were this strange green glowing version.. What the hell… what the absolute hell.

Johnny was under him glaring with those alien green eyes, this mask on his face was a black metalic color with clear holes showing the same green color running through it.

"Who the hell is Johnny?" He growled.

Johnny didn't remember his own name, he didn't remember him… he forgot them… damn it.. damn it.. it hurts so bad.. it hurt… knowing that, hearing that…

Simon knew it was for the best the Johnny forgot about him and how he failed him, but he was selfish.. Selfish like his father in the way he didn't want Johnny to forget him. Selfish in the way that Simon wanted Johnny to remember him, remember all of them, and everything that they had been through. Both good and the bad…

Simon's heart raced through his chest, aching in pain but love in seeing his Johnny alive once more…

"You are Johnny… You…" His voice was shacky as with one hand he held both of Johnny's the other removing that blasted mask that exhaled that damn blasted gaz. "You are Johnny, John 'soap' MacTavish, sergeant to the 141… the most crazy lad I have ever had the pleasure of dealing with… Johnny…" Simon mumbled looking at the other, he felt tears building up, the same damn tears he had been holding back since he held the others bleeding body…

their were so many questions running through his mind as to how he was standing here infront of them, well infront of him.. and not really standing but pinned down but thats the main idea.

The voices over his coms came through but he couldn't hear them. He could hear his captain or gaz asking for a report on what was going on…

"Johnny.. Johnny please come back to us… to me…" Simon all but begged. Simon was nothing but a past memory without Johnny…

A Ghost was nothing without a person to follow…

[sweeetestcurse]

Valeria Garza 01/??

[name-this]

winter Ghost

[questforgalas]

The first time we see Ghost and Soap on a tarmac together, Ghost stops dead in his tracks at the realization of who’s joining him on the mission, stays still as a statue as Soap approaches him, and rolls his eyes so far into the back of his head after Soap touches him it’s a miracle they don’t get stuck there. The last time we see them on a tarmac together, Ghost waits for Soap to finish his goodbyes, leans in Soap’s direction as Soap approaches him, and only moves after Soap gives him a tap. It makes me want to scream into a pillow each time I play.

[prismalmelonman]

Charm/pin/sticker design ghoap

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

Sometimes three aren't too many, and a man can have two suns

[slater-baby]

Simon Riley x f!Reader

Simon’s the type of guy to have your contact name in his phone as just “wife” — like an actual caveman.

No emojis, no capitals, no nothing. Just “wife.”

The first time the 141 happen to see it, they nearly laugh themselves into a stupor. It’s quite the image, imagining skull-faced Simon Riley plodding around the house, snarling the words “woman” and “wife” with all the testosterone and wolfish pride of some brutish working man.

But to Simon, it’s much simpler than that.

“Self-explanatory,” he’d explain, offended that they’d think of him so lowly, “She’s my wife. Mine. Ain’t nobody else’s. Anybody who’s got a problem wit’ me callin’ her the title I gave her can right well piss off.”

Though, that’s not to say the 141 are exactly wrong. In fact, you kind of like how pushy and red-blooded Simon can get sometimes…especially in between the sheets.

“C’mon, girl,” he grunts, slapping the fat of your ass hard enough to leave a red hand print on your skin, “Want me to be yours? Want this cock to be yours, huh?”

“Yes,” you mewl, grabbing bruising handfuls of the sheets.

“Then fucking prove it to me,” He growls, “C’mon, make yourself cum on my cock—fuckin’ prove that I’m yours,” he yanks you up with a hand in your hair, a snarl between his lips, “Faster, love, c’mon—I ain’t got all fuckin’ day.”

[i-love-you-just-the-same]

naps to lovers?

price is an accident, you fall asleep watching a movie with him after he cradles you in his bed. plops down with you to do some paperwork and he's out, too. you wake up cuddled into his chest and pretend not to notice his boner.

next it's johnny. you're both exhausted from sparring and workouts. instead of showering, he pulls you to his bed and tells you to wait for him before you get in. by the time you want up, the sheets are crusted with sweat and soap is on top of you, crushing you to the mattress.

after that, it's both johnny and kyle. smooshed between them after a long hard mission, it's hard not to appreciate two nice pillows. simon has the picture of you three asleep on each other.

kyle finds you in the mess hall after, pulling you to your room with the promise of takeout and uninterrupted rest.

simon is standoffish at first, but eventually offers himself up as a weighted blanket for you after being reprimanded by another force's captain (don't worry, price and gaz are handling it). he lets you hold him close while stroking your hair and face until you drift off. he frequents in odd hours with you (when he knows your alone or stacked up with another one of the boys).

you don't mean for it to, but it becomes much more regular. price pulling you into his lap during late night briefings, soap's head in your lap, and kyle following you back to your room. they get so much more casually affectionate- hands on you at all times, forehead kisses, and sweet words. they begin to take you out together after missions and on off days to movies and shopping (they love dressing you up).

this all builds up to a random friday where they bring you to a house about 30 minutes from base. lately, they'd all been a bit more secretive and making investments "for the wellbeing of the team" like price's new truck that could seat 7. the house has all five of yours stuff in it (ash trays, half finished sketches, sewing kits, kyle's hat on the table). you see some of your missing clothes in one of the big dressers half-opened drawers.

it shouldn't be a surprise to you then when you walk in the bedroom and there's a california king. you really should have expected it, hen, they've been courting you for months!

yeah, johnny's naked on the bed, so what?

[euno11a]

it is proven that majority of women can’t orgasm from intercourse alone. So imagine reader who can’t make herself cum, no matter how she touches her swollen little bud.

it’s becoming more annoying as you keep trying, different speeds, pressures, and angles, but nothing seems to work for you! It’s gotten to the point where you’ve quite frankly given up on even touching yourself. You’ve tried for so long, yet always get nothing.

so imagine telling Simon when he asks you, oh so kindly when on deployment, to touch yourself with him to make you both feel good. The silence over the phone when you say you can’t.

“What?”

“I just can’t. I’ve tried, but it just doesn’t work for me.”

“‘Ave ya-?”

“I’ve done everything, Simon! I can’t, okay?”

it was clear that this was something that you weren’t comfortable with talking about. It made you upset that you didn’t “function correctly” like other women. So the night Simon came home, he greeted you with a soft kiss. There wasn’t any harsh underlying emotion, just soft and sweet love. His large and calloused hands would cup your cheeks and look at your eyes, watching the slight confusion slip into your gaze.

now laying against his sturdier chest, looking at yourself in the mirror with him behind you, you knew what was happening. He gently pulled down your sleeping pants, taking his time to let his fingertips brush against every inch of your thighs, all the way down to your ankles. And soon enough, off came your panties too. He started by admiring the slight glistening of your slick right by your entrance, using his fingers to gently dip into the fluid that he loved. Dragging his fingers upwards, he brought his fingertips to the side of your clit, letting your slick be the lube for his fingers.

Simon looked at you through the mirror, keeping eye contact as his fingers pressed onto your clit. The gasp that left your lips was sudden, almost reaching down to grab his wrist, but stopping when he gave you a stern warning look. Everything felt different - his touch felt electrifying, while yours felt like watching paint dry. Why was it so different? Your eyes fluttered shut, head resting on his shoulder when he started speeding up his small circular motion. Your thighs spread a little more, shuddering when you felt a build up in your lower tummy. That burn you never felt unless you used a toy, the burn you got before you were clouded with euphoria; it was coming. You let out small squeaks and whimpers as your hips lifted and you came undone. Usually that’s when you’d stop, let your body just relax, but Simon kept a firm hand across your torso, using his leg to keep yours pinned down so he could still rub you till complete satisfaction.

once his movements slowed and he was panting along with you slightly, he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, looking at your eyes through the mirror again.

“I don’t care what time of day it is, if ye need t’cum, y’tell me and I’ll help, love. Alrigh’?”

you mustered a small nod, droopy eyes falling to the wet and sticky mess between your thighs, and the lovely hands that helped you along the way.

[annaphoenix1994]

Interrogation

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

»»-------¤-------««

Coyotes whaled in the distance of the Mexican desert, making an average person uneasy, but I didn't mind it. In fact, I found it comforting that there was some other type of life here besides us, although I couldn't help but recall the last time I was in a dark desert like this in the middle of the night...

When I was hung by my ribs courtesy of Manual Roba. Hung by hours on end as he and his men continued to try to brainwash me and interrogate me.

The memory alone made chills erect on my arms while I watched Alejandro force Hassan to his knees, removing the hood from his head so he can take in his view. Soap and Alejandro surrounded him, pacing as Graves set up a laptop on the hood of the car we had driven out here. Kiera stood on next to the fender of the car, leaning her elbow against the hood while I stood on the adjacent side, staying back to observe the situation in front of me.

I struggled to fight the dryness in my eyes, looking forward to the moment where I could sleep, everyone else around me seeming to fight the same feeling. I didn't even care about taking a shower at this point because I knew I could do it later as all I cared about right now was wrapping up this interrogation and closing my eyes.

"On your knees." Soap barked at him, standing back as Alejandro kept a hold on Hassan's shoulders.

"Y'all got a clear picture?" Graves said into the computer, two screens showing up on the other end, connecting live to General Shepherd and Laswell.

"Crystal."

"All set."

"Alright, we are live, folks." Graves announced, hooking his thumbs into his vest as he stopped in front of Hassan.

"Do you speak Arabic?" Hassan questioned.

"No."

"Farsi?"

"No."

Hassan scoffed, "Of course not. Then I'll speak your bastardized medieval English because you are all uneducated street dogs."

"Ah, see, we're getting off to a bad start here, Hassan." Graves shook his head.

"You're talking to a Quds Force officer."

"You're the commander of a foreign terror organization."

"I could say the same to you."

"What's your target, Major?" Graves mocked.

"What was your target when you sent missiles to my land?"

I looked over at Kiera when I heard her mumble, "Why would we send missiles to his land?" before jotting down a few words on a scrap piece of paper from Graves' notepad that sat next to the computer. What was she on about?

"Oh, wild guess, to nail your ass."

"So insolent and foul-mouthed. You will learn to respect me when your nation sees fire."

"You're in bed with the cartel, Hassan," Kiera chimed in. "If you disappeared, no one would know where to look for the stain."

I glared at Hassan when I noticed that he looked at her up and down, smirking as he liked what he was seeing. It disgusted me.

"So, I see it's all Americans that are so foul-mouthed and unintelligent. Sa'ajid muteatan fi hashw hadha alfam li'iiskatika. (I'll find pleasure in stuffing that mouth to shut you up.)"

"Eindama tafeal dhalika, sa'akun mtakdan min astikhdam 'asnani allaeinati. (When you do that, I'll be sure to use my fucking teeth.)"

I had no idea what they were saying, but I could at least understand Kiera's tone to retort to something inappropriate that Hassan said.

"What did he say to you, señora?" Alejandro asked.

"He said that he would find pleasure in stuffing my mouth to shut me up, and I told him that when he did, I'll use my fucking teeth." She scoffed.

If looks could kill, both Kiera and I would've had his head.

Hassan shook his head as he couldn't think of something else to say to her, but Soap quickly intervened and began to question him with the same gleam of anger in his eyes. "Where'd you get American missiles from?"

"I don't care where they're from, I want to know where they're going!" Shepherd barked, and I immediately noticed Kiera jotting down another few words, except this time, it looked like a sentence with Shepherd's name circled as well as Graves'.

Graves sighed, listening to the whaling coyotes that sounded closer than where they were before, "Take a look around, Hassan. Now, you can either become part of the food chain or you can start talking."

"I doubt you'll have pleasure in torturing me, but I'm a hostage here. This is illegal—"

"You're a prisoner of war." Alejandro growled.

"Iran is not at war with Mexico. I've broken no laws. These men and waqiha (slut) are the law breakers!" He shouted, again glancing at Kiera who was going through Hassan's phone that she had asked me for, jotting down a few words of information.

"Yeah, Bin Laden said the same thing too and you saw what happened to that motherfucker, huh?" She retorted.

"Do not speak his name!" Hassan shouted at her.

"Bin-fucking-Laden," She repeated, glaring at him and holding heavy eye contact with him. This lass was more than relentless. No man scared her, and I didn't know whether to be even more attracted or afraid of her because she took no bullshit from anyone. "By the time we were done with him, he looked like confetti."

Hassan glared at her, pursing his lips as he tried to stand to his feet before Alejandro forced him back down. "You and your beloved General Ghorbrani, too," Soap added. "Broke every law—"

"You executed him, and you will pay for your crimes! Allah wahdah qadir ealaa musaeadatik alan! (Only God can help you now!)"

"I want this bastard in permanent custody or looking up at the goddamn grass!" Shepherd ordered.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, General," Kiera advised as she was now standing in front of the computer, arching her brow at him, and I could see that he didn't like being advised by a woman, because his next question came with a hateful attitude.

"And why not, Dutton?"

"Killing him is an act of war and you know it. And I don't know about you, but I don't want to go back to war with Iran when they have possession of our missiles." She shrugged.

"She's right, General," Laswell intervened. "Killing him is an act of war and keeping him is illegal. Right now, he's too hot to hold."

"Tell me you're getting something actionable, Laswell."

"Working on it. Stand by."

Kiera stepped out of the way and stood in front of me, setting Hassan's phone on the hood while Graves and Soap approached closer, irritation towards Kiera written all over his face. Don't give me a reason to bash you, MacTavish.

"Actual, let me finish this." Graves pleaded.

"There's nothing I would like more, but the women are right. Without proof, we need to turn him loose and see where he takes us."

"He's right here, Kiera. You can't be serious!" Soap scoffed at her.

Right before I could say something, Kiera was quick with her wit, "As serious as a fucking heart attack, Johnny."

"Don't use my first name." He warned her.

"Then don't use mine." She glared at him, unaware that I was shooting Soap the same glare, telling him to back down before I intervened.

"Now, turn him loose. She'll work on getting more intel." Shepherd advised.

"She better." Soap mumbled under his breath, shaking his head before walking away. Oh, I was going to scold him for this later.

"Or what, MacTavish?" Kiera questioned, not letting him get away with it.

"Nothing."

"Thought so."

"Did we get anything from his phone?" I asked my group, now holding the phone in my hands.

"Affirmative. We got a hit." Laswell answered.

"Good. Now, take him back and let him go."

Soap sighed, watching Graves shut the laptop as Alejandro covered Hassan's head with a burlap sack, irritated that we practically did all of this work for what felt like nothing, but Kiera was right. We had no physical and solid proof about what Hassan's plans were, but something told me to trust her judgement since she was Laswell's second in command.

"I'd kill for a whiskey and Coke right now," Kiera shook her head, mumbling to herself as she approached me, opening her hand to retrieve Hassan's phone from me, tossing it to the ground and stomping it completely. "Fuckin' bastard."

"Could've had one if you would've let us kill him right here." Soap sneered. Don't bloody instigate, MacTavish.

"Shut your mouth, Sergeant, or I'll shut it for you." She warned, picking up the smashed phone and throwing it into the desert.

"What're you going to do, little lass? Kick me between the legs?" He taunted.

"No, I'll beat you like a man."

"You could never."

"Alright, when we get back to base, I'd like to see you try."

"'M not hitting a woman."

"Then why talk shit like you would?"

Soap didn't reply, mainly because he didn't have anything to say. Her glare was dangerous, and a part of me felt bad for the hot-headed Scot because I wanted her to beat him in line, but the other part of me wanted us to all get along and work together because we were all good assets to each other. She struck a nerve when she addressed him with his first name, it was clear that he didn't like that, but he had it coming when he addressed her by her first name in front of an enemy, possibly compromising her.

We left Hassan in the desert to wander the dirt road alone. Shepherd said to let him go, so we literally did just that. He could find his own way back for all we cared. Besides, his long walk bought us some time, especially when Kiera destroyed his phone. The ride back was an awkward silence, Soap's leg bouncing up and down impatiently while he kept his jaw taut. He was pissed that we had to let Hassan go, but somehow was more pissed that Kiera bruised his ego right in front of everyone. I wasn't surprised to watch him react in such a way, but I could see that he was contemplating on if he wanted to fight Kiera or not. And for his sake, he better hope that he doesn't lay a finger on a woman, or I'd take matters into my own hands.

"Do you need a medic, señora?" Alejandro asked after we cleared the entrance into his base.

"What she needs in an attitude adjustment." Soap mumbled, unaware that we all heard what he had just said.

"Won't you give it to me, then? Talking like you're some big and bad man yet you won't do anything about it." She retorted.

"I'm too good to hit a woman." He scoffed.

"But you don't mind talking shit to one? Tough." She growled, getting out of the back of the car the same time Soap did, the two standing almost nose-to-nose, glaring at each other. I quickly walked around the car, putting my arm between them and glared at Soap. "Stand down, Sergeant. Don't let her get to you." I tried to talk sense into him, but it wasn't working. Kiera had easily pushed his buttons, and it looked like I was going to have to break them up.

But a part of me wanted to see who was going to win, but I was better than that. Soap needed an attitude adjustment of his own, but he needed to pick a fight with someone his own size, not a lass who was smaller than him by weight and height.

"Johnny, if you don't stand down right now, you and I are going to have a problem." I warned, pushing my arm against his chest.

"Tell her that. She started it."

"No. You started it, Sergeant. I wouldn't blame her for bashing your head in. Stand down."

"I think the best thing is to let them fight it out," Alejandro commented. Was this bastard serious? A woman fighting a man? "She can take it."

"Bullocks." I scoffed.

"He's right, Lieutenant. I can take a punch from a man twice your size. Him, eh, it'll feel like I'm getting hit by a little boy." She shrugged.

Soap tried to lunge at her, but I stopped him. Kiera was in the wrong for instigating a fight like she was craving it, but she was of a higher authority than me, and the other part of me could see me defending her even if she was in the wrong. "What would the old man say right now? Hm? You're being bloody stupid. Think about it." I threatened.

"The old man would've told me to shut her up." Soap argued.

"Captain Price and I get along because he understands my judgement." She retorted. She's worked with Price before?

"Let 'em fight it out right here, Ghost," Alejandro said. "I don't want to see it either, but they'll cut out each other's throats the moment we leave them be."

"I'm not letting them. That's bloody stupid."

"It is, but you know it'll happen one way or the other, and it could happen on a mission and get us all compromised. If they duke it out now, they'll blow off steam and forget about it tomorrow."

"No. You two, stand down now." I warned them, my glare now at her. She looked cute when she was mad, but I knew I should get out of her way.

"I'll stand down. Don't know about your Sergeant, though. Seems he's too hot-headed."

"It's because of you, slag!" He shouted, taking it way too far and he had no idea what she was going to do next. I guess neither did I, because she had enough power to move my arm out of her way and punch him square in the jaw, knocking him off balance.

He cupped his jaw before he turned back around, watching her present her face to him before tapping her jaw with her index finger, mocking him and asking him for a hit back. I gave up at this point, standing out of their way as holding them back did nothing but boil their anger towards each other. "I'm not hitting a woman."

"Because you're too scared. I even took it easy on you, asshole. You won't do it. Come on." She hummed at him.

"If you do it, Sergeant, you don't know what you're getting yourself into." Alejandro warned him, but Soap didn't know whether that meant dealing with the rest of his men or Kiera herself, but by Alejandro's tone, it sounded like this wasn't the first time Kiera had gotten into a fight on the base.

Was it childish? Yes, but in a way, Soap brought this on himself. He figured that Kiera would back down to him if he were to try to assert dominance, but she was the wrong one.

"I'm not hitting her."

"You know you want to." She mocked.

"Yeah, I want to, but I'm not."

"Come on, get it out of your system. I actually want you to. Give me some exercise."

"Yeah, you definitely need it." He scoffed.

"And you need a haircut. What grown man wears a mohawk?"

"I do!"

"No shit! Where'd you get your haircut? Wean's World in Glasgow?" 

Honestly, that was a pretty good comeback considering "wean" meant "child," meaning that she was calling him a little boy.

I couldn't even hold back a silent chuckle. 

He couldn't take her instigating anymore. He charged at her, but she stopped him by reaching her arm behind him and grasped his belt, throwing him over her opposite leg and onto the ground before straddling him. He tried to restrain her, but she was quick to start punching. Eventually, he hooked his fist into her shoulder only to be hit harder by her.

Well, I guess his shot with her was long gone because he wasn't going to forgive her after this. "Is that all you've got, Johnny?" She taunted, trying to get a rise out of him.

"Saving my energy to put you into the ground." He groaned, taking another punch from her relentless fist before using his leg to tangle around hers, using his body to his advantage to force her onto her back, trying to pin her from keeping her from punching him again before she managed to turn herself against him to get back on top of him, ready to deliver another punch before I forcefully grabbed her and locked her arms against my chest, effortlessly pulling her off of him.

"Knock it off!" I warned in her ear.

"Let me go!"

"No," I huffed, pushing her against the side of the car before I took a pair of zip-cuffs from my vest, forcing her wrists together behind her back and disabling her. "Cool off. I think you've proven your point."

Alejandro snickered, walking over to Soap before offering his hand, helping him to his feet and offering him a rag to clean the blood from his lip. "Are you done?"

"Yeah."

"No, he's not done," I intervened. "You and I are going to have a talk, Sergeant."

"I'm not the one who swung first!"

"Doesn't matter! You still did it. You know better than this shite. I'm not here to fucking babysit you. Do you want me to make you wait on her hand and foot?"

"I wouldn't mind it. Thought it was kinda hot." He shrugged, mumbling under his breath.

"Alright. This night is over. You and I aren't finished." I pointed my finger at him.

"Yes, sir."

I shook my head as I moved to grasp Kiera's forearm, "Where are you staying?"

"You can let me go, Lieutenant. I know where to go—"

"I wouldn't put it past you to charge at him again. I asked you a question."

"Second floor of that building over there." She nodded her head towards the location of her quarters.

"Let's go." I gently tugged on her arm, escorting her myself to ensure that the situation wouldn't decline yet again. Even though I was angry with the situation, I wasn't angry with her. I would've done the same thing if I was in her shoes and could agree that Soap was in the wrong for saying those things and she had every right to respond the way she did, but she knew better, too. She could've just let it go through one ear and out the other, but I partially agreed with Alejandro when he said that it could've compromised us if they fought during a mission.

I escorted her up the stairs and down the hallway. "It's this one." She sighed.

Isn't that funny, her room ended up being right next to mine...

I opened the door for her, letting her walk inside before I unclasped the zip-cuffs from her wrists, watching her shake the tension away before taking her hair down from its tight bun, letting it fall over her shoulders. I took a brief moment to look around, seeing a laptop opened on the desk and a pink blanket sprawled across the bed that sat snug against the wall, a single door leading into a bathroom. Little did I know, it was a shared bathroom. And just down the hall was a small kitchen nook where most of the soldiers gathered for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

"Get yourself cleaned up."

"First thing on my mind." She shook her head.

"You need a medic?" I asked, referring to her leg injury she gained from earlier.

"No, but he might."

"I meant your leg."

"I'll be fine. I'll look at it when I go shower."

"Okay. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Lieutenant."

I couldn't help but blush behind my mask before I shut the door and made my way to my quarters just next door. My suspicion was right – the door that led to the bathroom in my room was joined with hers. It wasn't surprising as some barracks were like this instead of sharing an entire unit of showers. I removed my vest and weapons, followed by my boots as I sat them aside on a chair before removing my mask, laying it on the side table as I looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes were bloodshot and dry, exhaustion ready to take me into a deep sleep once I laid down, but I knew I couldn't fall asleep just yet as my brain was still processing what had happened today.

I feasted on my MRE while sitting on the edge of my bed, dressed in nothing but my fatigues and a black compression shirt, listening to the water of the shower in the bathroom, chuckling when I heard her say to her phone, "Siri, play 'I Remember Everything' by Zach Bryan!"

I could've grown irritated that she was playing music while in the shower, but I couldn't help but listen to her hum to the lyrics as well as singing along when a certain verse came along.

"A cold shoulder at closing time, you were begging me to stay 'til the sun rose. Strange words come on out of a grown man's mouth when his mind's broke, pictures and passing time you only smile like that when you're drinkin', I wish I didn't, but I do, remember every moment on the nights with you... Fuck, this is such a good song!"

I chuckled at her, noting that she had a good singing voice. Shaking my head, I threw away my MRE before standing to my feet, keeping my mask off of my face as I made my way to the kitchen nook down the hall. I only wore my mask for tactical reasons and didn't care if someone saw my face. It wasn't like I was ugly and covered my face for that specific reason, but I chose to cover my face when on the field to conceal my identity, only being known as Ghost as one of my biggest fears was for one of my enemies to recognize me or remember me.

But when I was in the safety of the barracks, I could care less about the stupid thing. In fact, I felt better without it on. Thankfully, nobody was in the kitchen nook except me, and I was eager to see if there was anything in the cabinets to make tea with. Yes, I was a typical Brit wanting tea late at night, who cares?

And thank fuck did they have a pack of tea bags in the cabinet along with a set of mugs beside it. Waiting for the coffee maker to warm up, I propped myself against the counter snacking on a protein bar that lay in the basket on the counter, staring blankly ahead of me. My goal was to make a mug of tea and take it back to my room before taking a shower myself and going to bed, waiting patiently for Kiera to end her shower before I could.

I turned my back to the room as I focused on making my tea, hearing a door creak open from down the hall. I didn't pay whoever any mind, throwing away the used tea bag before turning around to walk back towards my room, making eye contact with Kiera as she had been heading the same way. She didn't know who I was, or so I thought, but she quickly put the pieces together when she recognized my stature and black warpaint around my eyes. She didn't realize it, but her eyes were gleaming with surprise and interest.

She subtly pressed her thighs together before forcing herself to walk forward, a towel taut on the top of her head with a tank top and pair of sleep shorts to match. She really makes herself at home, yeah?

But fuck was it cute... and attractive.

She smelled of vanilla as her bare feet patted against the tile, her toes painted white as she entered the kitchen nook. "Do they have Coke in here?" She asked, keeping her eye contact towards the floor as she felt like she wasn't supposed to see my face.

"I didn't look. Though I highly doubt cocaine is on a military base." I shrugged, taking a sip from my mug as my eyes watched her lean over to look in the fridge. She was driving me crazy and didn't even know it. I studied the floral tattoo that covered her entire right thigh, breathing in heavily when I briefly imagined those thighs wrapped around my waist. Fuck, Simon! Stop sexualizing her!

"I meant a soda," She giggled. "Oh, yes! Coke and a bottle of whiskey! I hit the jackpot!"

I shook my head, "You're drinking this late at night?"

"Yeah, why? I have a report to do. It'll be a while before I fall asleep."

The more she talked to me with that oblivious gleam in her eye, I was going to have to cut our conversation short before I embarrassed myself in front of her with my obvious lack of intimate affection. I felt ashamed to think this way, but I wasn't going to let her realize that she was causing me to be sexually frustrated, wanting to fuck the attitude out of her. I was going to have no choice but take care of this issue with my own hand eventually, because I had no chance with a woman like her. Did I want to shoot my shot? Fuck yes, but I was too afraid of getting rejected, so I kept to myself. I had only known her for a day, but she had been a distraction throughout our entire mission by having me constantly making sure she was in my line of sight or making myself be there to coax her out of trouble because I didn't want another man to do it.

In my younger years, I would've taken the opportunity to flirt and test the waters, hoping for a night of sexual release with a mutual agreement, but I knew better now. I was in a higher rank and valued my job over one-night stands. Besides, a woman like her deserved more than that – a man to protect her from herself and more, to lay with her every night to be there for when she had a nightmare, to make love to her whenever she wanted it, not a one-night stand.

She was a fucking wildfire, and I didn't even know if I had the confidence to handle her.

It's weird, but I could see myself doing that with her – giving up a part in my world just to be a part of hers. She was just like me. We shared the same mindset, attitude, morbid humor, and work ethic. She was perfect for me, but I knew I was thinking with future thoughts instead of present, but there's no harm in wishing, right?

This woman was going to be the death of me, and I needed to prevent that, but what if I didn't want to?

"Fair point." I shrugged, focusing on my tea, unaware that I had drank more than I thought. I usually sipped my tea, but tonight, I found myself gulping it in a last-minute effort to avoid looking at her, knowing every time I did, a familiar tightness threatened to tent my pants.

I couldn't help myself as I looked down her legs to look at the huge gash from the rock she collided with when she had to jump from the cliff. "Don't you think it needs stitches?"

Fuck, Riley! Why'd you make it obvious that you were looking at her bare legs? You bloody idiot! Okay, you can justify it by saying that the fresh blood running down her leg caught your attention. Yeah, say that!

"Probably. I can stitch it up if I need to," She shrugged, moving past me to reach into the cabinet, pulling out a short glass before putting a handful of ice into the bottom of it, pouring a heavy amount of whiskey into the glass. "My adrenaline hasn't worn off yet. Might as well do it before it does, huh?"

Do what? Let me fuck you while it's in our system? Because I can see you pressing your thighs together, love. Goddammit, Riley! Go back to your room and jerk off and get it over with before you blow it!

"Probably a good idea." I breathed a chuckle, mentally slapping myself.

She flashed her hazel eyes at me as she moved back towards the fridge, putting the bottle of whiskey back into it before pulling out a can of Coke, cracking it open and taking a sip before her tongue slipped out to lick her lips, "This Mexican Coke is the best."

"Thought it all tasted the same?"

"Oh, no. Mexican Coke is way better," She hummed. "I've got some work to do. I'll see you later."

"Sure thing." I nodded, watching her walk away with each hand full of her evening treat of whiskey and Coke as well as a couple of Reese Cups.

Fuck, my dick physically hurt at the thought of her under me, and I knew I needed to do something about it before it got me in trouble. Her eyes looked at me with curiosity and arousal when she realized what I looked like beneath my mask, and I began to wonder if she realized that she liked when I forced her hands behind her back. Cheeky lass, yeah? I'll take care of it if you'll let me.

Little did I know, we both went to bed that night sexually flustered. 

[amustikas]

“I showed you my fish pls respond”

would you swipe right on him???

oh and happy valentines ;)

[beescrafting]

The Haunted Glass Fanart

@hexxedghost

You have my life with this fanfic man.

HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEXXXX, GIVE ME A ROACH CHAPTER, AND MY LIFE, IS YOURSSSSSSSSSSSSS.

I love doodling Roach in the isolation place, just dealing with the voices and thoughts of betrayal from dickhead Shepherd.

[the-palelady]

imagine simon who’s roommate has some SERIOUSSSS road rage (same). especially as someone who’s usually quiet it shocks the shit out of people to drive with me.

you don’t normally drive, but simon’s tired. he just got home from a long mission. however, the man’s gotta eat so you decide to take him out to grab a bite that way neither of you will have to lift a finger.

as always, it’s quiet. between the two of you not much is said, but it’s a comfortable silence.

until you get to a light that’s green, and has been for more than six seconds. that’s all it takes to flip your switch.

“go!!! it’s green for fucks sakes!!!!”

your strength mirrors that of superman with the way your palm slams against the horn.

and simon is lost for fucking words. his eyes snap over to you and he watches the crease in your brows, and the way your face scrunches into a scowl.

it doesn’t stop there though as they finally take off, albeit slowly. which simon notices only pisses you off more.

your fingers are drumming against the steering wheel, foot tapping the gas, and you’re literally riding the ass of the poor bastard in front of you.

“i will take both of us out if you don’t hurry it the fuck up.”

you’re punctuating your words with more taps on the gas. you aren’t screaming like before but your voice is borderline demonic.

finally they make a turn. you all but obliterate the gas pedal as you take off, and let out the breath you had been holding this entire time.

when you turn to peek over at simon, his eyes are glued to you, practically bulging out of his head.

and he has no idea whether he should be scared or horny.