#Taylor Swift x call of duty

[fel0ny-01]

I HAVE TO SAY SOMETHING I HAVE TO SAY SOMETHING!!!!!! STATE OF GRACE (TV) IS SO GHOST SOAP CODED. LET ME EXPLAIN. (I will delve deeply into this! Forgive me! Read at your own discretion lmfao)

So “State of Grace” is about falling in love, and the power that falling in love can hold; especially how it can change a person’s views on others and themselves. It holds the deeper and spiritual meaning of what love means, right? Now at its core, the song is about growth, change and redemption. Now that sounds familiar to me, especially in how Ghost/Soap is portrayed in fan-made creations (Fuck you Activison!)

I’m gonna delve into some lyrics really quick that scream Ghostsoap to me. They will be in bold.

“I'm walking fast through the traffic lights

Busy streets and busy lives

And all we know is touch and go”

All they know is touch and go. As a noun, it applies to them. Come back from missions, get debriefed, go back and do more missions again. Touch and Go, as simple as that. They both do it, they’ve been doing it for a while.

Now as an adjective, they would also only know touch and go. For Ghost, this could apply to his relationships. People die when they know him, when they love him. It’s possible they will stay, but very uncertain. In a lot of fanon, Soap doesn’t have this problem. However, if we look at canon, it’s implied in Modern Warfare 3, that he doesn’t have any family to go back to. So it’s all touch and go for them.

“We are alone with our changing minds

Being in the military (or even in childhood), they experience traumatic events that a regular human being would never experience. And usually it’s very unheard of in the military to talk about emotional feelings, you are required to keep that away professionally.

We fall in love 'til it hurts or bleeds, or fades in time”

Relationships come with a lot of hurt. As always. But the words used here (Hurts, Bleeds or fades in time) really strike me as words that would and could be used to describe the relationships the boys have experienced, whether for both, it would be Graves’ betrayal, or for Ghost, Losing Roach.

“And I never (never)

Saw you coming

And I’ll never (never)

Be the same”

This just applies to the general relationship. We see when Soap and Ghost meet after a couple of years, Ghost seems pretty annoyed that he’s working with the sergeant again, but God he didn’t expect to get so close with him that he felt like he had changed from spending time with him. Physically, he did see him coming, but the way Soap wormed his way into Ghost’s heart? He never saw that coming.

“You come around and the armor falls

Pierce the room like a cannonball

Now all we know is don't let go”

THIS. THIS LADIES AND GENTLETHEM. THIS IS THE LINE. I feel as though this is definitely from Ghost’s perspective. When he’s with recruits, or allies, or anyone else other than Soap, he is stone cold, walls up, no banter. But when Soap, the armour (I love this!) falls, whether it’s the battle armour, or the emotional armour; he lets go when he’s around Soap.

The phrase, “pierce the room like a cannonball” really just makes me laugh because it brings out Soap’s inner destructiveness, but also how explosive he was getting into Ghost’s heart. It even works with how he most definitely lights up the room when he walks in, piercing it.

“ALL WE KNOW IS DONT LET GO” they’ve progressed in their relationship, it’s getting to the point where neither can even think about losing the other. That they’d rather die than lose the other person. They knew touch and go before, that was all they did know, but that uncertain feeling has been replaced with a sense of belonging to the other, now all the know is don’t let go.

“We are alone, just you and me

Up in your room and our slates are clean

Just twin fire signs, four blue eyes”

I’d like to think Ghost and Soap spend their spare time in each others spaces, basking in the warmth of the other. I know in a lot of fics, they either go in theirs or the others rooms, because it’s safe there. When they are together and alone, their slates are clean. They are just Johnny and Soap, not the insane murder machines that kill, get shot and get hurt. They are just two boys in love, adoring eachother. Twin fire signs.

“So you were never a saint

And I've loved in shades of wrong”

FROTHING AT THE MOUTH. THIS IS IT. This could be from either of their perspectives, but I do see it as more of a Soap line. Ghost thinks he’s this awful, unredeemable killer who doesn’t deserve anything good, and Soap recognises he’s done bad things (and so has he) but Soap loves in shades of wrong. He knows they’ve both done bad things, but he never wanted anything less than him, anything less than Simon. Anything less than the brutal killing machine he sees himself as.

“We learn to live with the pain

Mosaic broken hearts”

Whether it’s learning to live with the pain of losing people, seeing unimaginable things, or having traumatic things happen to them, they learn to live with it all. They learn to accept their “mosaic broken hearts” even if they don’t accept their own, but the others.

“But this love is brave and wild”

I love this one, because it feels like it captures the explosive nature of their relationship. Their love is brave, they go out on missions where they could lose the other, but they would also kill for the other. They know anything could happen, but yet they still continue to love. And the wild part just screams Johnny, his explosiveness, his willingness to put his love and trust into Ghost, who returns it with much enthusiasm.

“This is a state of grace”

The phrase “State of Grace” means “a condition of being free from sin”. And this just hits different. Soap and Ghost are ‘sinners’. They have committed several sins in the eyes of religion, they have done awful things, they have committed war crimes for god sake!

But their love strips that all away. Their love is a state of Grace, it’s a condition of being free from sin. When they are in love, all their sins, mistakes, they are all gone. When they are together, they are almost like angels. Their love rebuilds through their fractures, and redeems them.

“This is the worthwhile fight”

Lots of fights don’t feel worthwhile to Ghost, he doesn’t feel like some battles are worth fighting for. He feels like they are just doing them out of pure pity, he feels that a lot of the time. But this time, this fight for love and life with Johnny is so worthwhile to him. It’s something he isn’t doing out of pity, or out of command, he is doing it because it’s worthwhile to him.

“These are the hands of fate

You're my Achilles heel”

Ghost’s hands end lives. With the flick of his wrist he can snap someone’s neck, he can do it without hesitation. His hands decide fate. But Soap is his Achilles heel. Soap could sway him from doing some of the things he does out of habit, that’s how much influence he has on him. He would do anything for his Johnny, even if that means giving up the world.

“This is the golden age of something good and right and real”

Finally, thank fuck, finally, they both have something that’s positive for once. Not war, not death, not pain. Something just for them, something that’s good, and right, and real. They both feel it for each other eternally. It feels right, everything slots together so nice, like a jigsaw.

“And I never (never)

Saw you coming

And I'll never (so you were never a saint)

(And I've loved in shades of wrong)

Be the same (we learn to live with the pain)

(Mosaic broken hearts)

(But this love is brave and wild)”

This bit is more technical on the production side, but it really hits me in the heart. To me, it’s like they are reminiscing over the start of their relationship. Ghost saying he will bever be the same, and Soap reassuring Ghost saying that he loves him regardless of what he’s done. That he’s allowed to have this one thing. That they are both allowed to have this.

[skyrigel]

“Does that feel good…huh ?”

Simon pulled you back by your neck, his breath piping down your spine in blazing hot rings. “I bet it does.” He growled maniacally, chuckling as you whimpered against his chokehold.

He pulled out his cock just until it breached against your used wasted hole before slamming back in all over, arching your back further as your orgasm came in waves — there was no point holding back as your thighs shaked, still the constant pouncing didn't stop, the back of your thigh met his hips in every jiff, while hot cum leaked down and coaxed his big cock and he groaned at the heat of your pussy, me, only letting him rattle your insides while your toes curled from overstimulation.

“Did Daddy say you could cum, huh ?” Simon didn't wait for an answer, and as came his hand pinching hard on your bud, and after were two consecutive hard spanks that stirred another heated arousal, “ya’ being bratty today, is that what'll do ?”

Your vision blurred, tears brimmed and fell down and you shaked your head, it felt good to be pounded down after moaning and writhing over dildos that were nothing compared to your man's veiny cock, but even so you lost count how many times you came and how many times Simon punished you by going harder once again.

“C’mon you promised to be daddy's good girl, no ?” He leaned down over you, enveloping your bare back with his hot body, his heat pulsing like a drum through you and not to mention the bulge that twitched as you moaned like a whore against his arm.

All your thoughts were mussy except how good his big dick felt inside you, how obsence it must look — on your fours getting pounded from behind like cock slut, being forced to take it after third or maybe fourth orgasm.

“Daddy didn't say you could cum whore ?”

Simon kneaded your tits that jangled with every thrust, and you couldn't take it anymore, feeling your nerves numb in your body as you thought to utter your safeword with no success, finally remembering to shake your head as Simon always told you.

Simon couldn't understand until thrusting three more times then he pulled himself out, his hold of your throat came undone as you trembled all over against the emptiness of your pussy when he pulled out with wet pop, swollen and hard.

“Lovie.” He cooed, all the hardness left somewhere as his soft voice hummed — you fell face down on the pillow, tears soaking against it. “Hey, hey…love ?”

Simon's deft finger pushed away your hair that sticked up through sweat and tears, his eyes were sweet and loving.

“Did I hurt you ? Tell—”

“No.” You croaked, feeling your thigh numb all over, his weight shifted beside you until you scrambled over and laid your head on his chest, his heart beating melodiously enough to lull you in some heavenly sleep.

“I was too hard on my princess, wasn't I ?”

You looked up, knowing how heavy your eyes were and no doubt your lips were swollen from the intense make out session earlier, and cum drying over like frost on dew.

He loved you like this, all fucked up, all marked up — just for him, only by him.

Simon smiled shyly, then leaned to kiss your forehead — “I should get us a bath—”

You didn't want him to go anywhere, “Stay ere’ with me.”

“Mmm.” Simon pulled you closer to his chest, wrapping his safe arms around you while you relished in the sillage of sex and euphoria of it all, finally breathing Simon's sharp cologne.

“Would you like water baby, huh ?” But you didn't, you only wanted Simon to cradle you in his arms and sway you gently.

“Alright lovie, sleep.” He whispered, carding through your hair and soothing your scalp, knowing he'd pulled too hard, just how his nasty girl liked, “I love you.”

“Love ya too.” You inhaled, feeling so good.

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[barbiesmuse]

ᰔᩚ FALSE GOD.

ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָjohn price + milf!reader

summary: a little blurb of price fingering milf!reader while her daughter is with her dad.

tags: fingering, praise, age gap, price kisses readers tears, reader squirts, reader has a daughter, reader's daughter is referred to as babygirl, reader's baby daddy is a deadbeat!

head barbies announcements: this was silly i was bored and horny!! also men personifying pussy is such a power move!! sorry this is actually kind of dirty!

you whine softly as price plunges his fingers in and out of your wet cunt. you sniffle as tears stream down your face. john has the two of you faced in front of a mirror. your eyes were heavy and your breathing was rough. price smirked as he watched your eyes follow his fingers. his thumb finds its way to your clit rubbing soft circles on the rosebud. “oh sweet girl, wipe those tears f’me hm? promise it'll feel better soon. just gotta get your sweet pussy used to me first. gotta be gentle with her.” he says, pressing gentle kisses to her ear.

you sniffle and turn your head, looking up at him with glossy eyes. as his thick and calloused fingers continue to demolish your tight cunt you feel the same achy feeling in your stomach that you always feel when he touches you this way. price coos at you and kisses your tears, he was so gentle with you. he tasted the salty drop on his tongue and smirked. as you got closer to your orgasm your hands found price's wrist trying to slow him down as his fingers split your pretty pussy open.

“look at this pretty pussy sweetheart, see how needy you are for my fingers? what would you do without me, hm? i know you're stressed about babygirl. let it out mama. ” price says, as your orgasm washes over you your legs tremble. as you lay in his lap, legs spread, hair disheveled, and your soft whines filling his ears he can't help but feel himself coming in his pants. price groans in your ear, which only makes you spiral even more. your clear liquids spurt from your pussy and he chuckles.

“fuck john, feels so good! mmph, need your cock now please!” you say as you feel his fingers continue to stimulate your pussy. as he pulls his fingers out of your sopping hole he smirks as you clench on nothing. he studies you, you were a mess. nowhere near ready for his rough cock. “oh dear heart, y’r not ready yet.” price says, he looks at you through the mirror. he smiles and shoves his finger into your mouth. as you taste yourself you moan around his fingers.

price pulls his fingers from your mouth and replaces them with his chapped lips, his tongue meets yours and the two of you mix. you wrap your arms around his neck and moan into the kiss. you pull away and bite his lip. he pulls away and presses a gentle kiss to the valley of your breasts. “can always count on my sweet girl to taste so good.”

[fairyboygenius]

fresh out the slammer- simon riley x fem!reader

we’ve all got that one destructive situationship…

a/n: i have no idea what this is lol. was listening to ttpd as i do and had this idea. might make this a series with a different song for different characters??

cw: alcohol consumption, brief suggestive content

now, pretty baby, i’m running back home to you

two knocks on the door.

you took a deep breath, pulling out your phone to reread the text.

come over whenever, love. i’m home.

just as you were about to raise your fist to the door to knock again, it swings open. he wasn’t wearing his mask. a bandaid rested on the bridge of his nose, bags under his eyes seeming slightly less prominent than usual. his eyes swept over you, the tiniest bit of concern flashing across his face before his expression became stoic again.

“come on in.”

fresh out the slammer, i know who my first call will be to

the wine was cold-just how he knew you liked it. a crisp, crunchy white that almost tasted like sunlight. too bad you were feeling anything but sunny.

“he cheated on me.” the words felt heavy on your tongue, foreign. it was objectively true- you had literally walked in on him fucking another woman in your bed. that was merely two hours ago, though, and the bile in your stomach was still simmering at a low level.

“fuckin’ idiot.”

you tried to ignore how simon’s lips caressed the side of the lowball glass.

“told ya he was trouble, doll. never looked at you like you deserve.”

his voice was raspy, a sure indicator that this wasn’t his first drink. so was the toe-curling way he looked at you, brown eyes drifting over your face and down your body. he only got this open in his desire with some liquid courage in his system, but you’d take what you could get. with him especially.

“and what do i deserve?” the question was a trap. honey falling from your lips purely to draw the bear in front of you closer. your tricks were well-rehearsed- leading questions, cinnamon perfume, vanilla lip balm, a low-cut tank top. they worked every time.

his hand reached out, brushing the side of your arm. jackpot.

“little vixen,” he groaned, eyes falling to your lips involuntarily. “this is just unfair at this point.”

“what, are you seeing anyone seriously?”

“you think i’d invite you over if i was?”

your lips curled up in a smile. the banter, you could do no problem. “we both know commitment doesn’t mean much to you.”

“i haven’t kicked you as a habit. that’s gotta show some dedication.”

you reached up, intertwining your fingers with his as you took a sip of your wine. “and here i thought i was just keeping your bed warm.”

and when he leaned in and kissed you, sunlit wine mixing with stormy bourbon, you swore it was to prove a point.

[v4mpgutz]

Labyrinth, Simon "Ghost" Riley [ ONESHOT ]

— simon refuses to be left in anyone else's care but yours after he gets a stab wound to the gut :)))

simon "ghost" riley x nurse reader

note: this does use she/her pronouns !! also this is pretty much not proof-read at all so... yeah!

warnings ! — descriptive mentions of wounds + blood, reader stitches up a gash, petname (dove like once whoops)

you were tending to another soldier as per usual, administering pain killers and putting a cold cloth on his head to keep a fever down. you checked the soldier's heartbeat one more time before you nodded in satisfaction.

as you walked out of the curtains that separated the soldier's tiny room from the hallway, you heard a commotion near the entrance.

furrowing your brows in confusion, you walked towards where the noise was and heard a male medic speaking to a familiar voice.

"i told you already, sir!" the medic exclaimed, clearly growing irritated. "she's busy with another patient. you'll have to be taken care of by someone else."

you rounded the corner and saw simon standing there arguing with the medic. he was hunched over a little and clutching his lower stomach, still in his ops gear and mask.

"i'm not seein' anybody else, for fucks sake! it's her or no one!" he sneered at the medic who just rolled his eyes.

the medic turned around and saw you, his eyes widening as he beckoned you over. "thank goodness! lieutenant riley has been asking for you."

you blinked slowly and turned to look at simon, your eyes holding concern as you looked up and down his figure. blood was seeping through his fingers where his shirt was slightly rolled up just before the waistline of his pants.

"lieutenant, you're bleeding out! you should've got someone to see you," you scolded before grabbing his arm and pulling him towards an empty room.

he winced and you saw him roll his eyes behind his mask. "everyone else in this bloody place is incompetent." he scoffed before lowering his voice to a whisper, "and besides... i don't trust anyone else."

you chewed your bottom lip anxiously and sighed, reaching for a pair of medical scissors.

"okay," you mumbled. "move your fingers, i have to cut your shirt."

he obeyed your order and moved his hand away, he was hoping you wouldn't notice but it was definitely shaking. he was growing slightly clammy due to the blood loss as well.

you cut his shirt and peeled it back, examining the wound as your tongue poked your cheek. you hummed, dabbing a wet cloth against the skin around it to rid it of blood. you were quick to apologise when simon let out a wince and a mumbled 'fuck!'

"well, ghost—"

"simon." he corrected as he averted his eyes. "please, just... call me simon."

you smiled softly and nodded.

"well, simon, you're definitely going to need stitches." you told him, pinching his skin together to try and stop the blood from flowing out any more.

"bloody fuckin' hell.." he mumbled, looking down at you as you crouched slightly next to the bed. "get it over with then," he nodded slowly.

you seemed unsure for a moment as you readied the needle and thread.

"are you sure? you don't want lidocaine?" you asked him, hesitant to stitch the wound up without some sort of numbing agent.

"what the fuck is lidocaine?" he asked, his brows creased underneath his mask.

you laughed and showed him the needle, the shiny point reflecting light off of it dramatically. you watched simon swallow as he stared wide-eyed at the needle.

"it's a local anaesthetic," you explained. "it targets the nerves where injected to numb them in preparation for specific procedures."

he nodded with a nervous cough and shook his head, "i'm fine. i'm a soldier, i've suffered worse pain than a couple stitches."

you shrugged and put the anaesthetic back down on the medical cart, picking up the needle and thread. you cleaned the wound first, making sure there wasn't any blood where you needed to poke the needle through the skin.

you pinched the skin together and steadied the needle, looking up at ghost for approval; he nodded.

you pushed the needle through the first bit of skin, being as gentle as you could. you paused when you heard the man above you yelp — actually yelp — at the feeling.

"you okay, simon?" you asked with a frown and he let out a shaky breath and a grunt.

"just peachy."

you wanted to laugh but you held your tongue because you knew how bad stitches hurt — especially without an anaesthetic.

it took you about ten minutes to fully stitch the wound, dabbing away any excess blood when you were finished. you had him lift his hips a little, one hand supporting him in doing so as you bandaged up his waist.

"okay," you nodded with a soft smile. "all done. now, you will need to replace the bandages every three hours or so. i'm sure you're capable of doing that yourself but if you need help just come and see me."

simon looked you directly in the eyes as you rose from your position next to the bed.

"thanks, dove. it's much appreciated."

you felt heat rush to your cheeks and the tips of your ears, giggling nervously and turning around to pretend to write something on a clipboard.

"just— just doing my job, lieutenant!"

you turned around and watched as he got up, glancing back at you one last time with a wave as he walked back towards the entrance of the infirmary.

oh no, you're falling in love again.

giggling kicking my feet twirling my hair

@konigceo THIS ONE IS FOR U !! 🫵

[tanked-up]

She really is

(Part 10 of my collection)

[midnightbears]

so long, london by taylor swift but you're thinking about simon ghost riley

[simonrileytaylorsversion]

I firmly believe Gaz grew up in a household full of women. He most definitely had 3 sisters growing up. And his mother taught that boy manners, best believe. He isn’t one of those guys who is disgusted by your period, because his entire family synced one time and man’s entire life flashed before his eyes.

Hes basically the ultimate gentleman.

“In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman.”

-Taylor Swift

[writesleah]

PLEASE can some of you drop some baking ideas in the replies or my ask box that would be sold at a bakery, maybe some that mattheo, draco, simon and john would enjoy 😉😉😉 for science, obviously (definitely not a new fic that is completed and just needs to be fleshed out a bit, and DEFINITELY not a multi-parter)

[fel0ny-01]

Ghost falling in love except it goes a little something like Labyrinth:

Ghost didn't do love. Familial love, Platonic Love, Romantic Love, none of it. He'd learnt that over time as a human being, being in love with, or loving human beings made things go badly very quickly. Whether it was heartbreak, death or betrayal. Time after time, he'd opened his heart, promising himself that it wouldn't hurt like the last time; but each time he'd broken the promise himself. After the last time, he'd stopped the whole 'love thing'. He buried it like he buried Simon, deep and further down into the ground, where it would have to crawl its way back out with blooded attempts; screaming and yelling.

That was until he met Soap.

'Uh Oh, I'm falling in love'

'Oh no, I'm falling in love again,'

'Oh. I'm falling in love'

I guess it would always find it's way back into his cold, dark heart. After all, Simon Riley didn't die in that grave.

[oceantornadoo]

renegade by taylor swift and big red machine is just PERFECT for an angsty relationship with simon riley. like are you kidding me (incoming exhibits):

you fire off missiles because you hate yourself, but do you know you’re demolishing me?

HELLO LIKE HES LITERALLY A WAR CRIMINAL. war is what takes time away from the relationship and hurts both parties!!!

is it really your anxiety that stops you from giving me everything? or do you just not want to?

idk about yall but i am not nonchalant. if i was talking to this man and he was so hesitant to show love because of what happened with his family, id be questioning EVERYTHING.

and if i would have known how sharp the pieces were you crumbled into, i might have let them lay.

this man does not need a wife he needs a therapist. reader refuses to do the heavy emotional lifting and why should they??? reminds me of clay from love is blind lmao. we are not ms. fix-a-man!!!

— the whole song is like this and i feel it’s so underrated but its soooo hurt/ comfort —

[ykscarlett]

((

[burnt-tortellini]

yadayada graves and soap get together because ghosts afraid of commitment. anyway, point is false god by taylor swift.

[v4mpgutz]

Christmas Tree Farm, König [ DRABBLES ]

— husband könig and you at christmas time :>

husband könig x gender neutral reader

note: this is my first time writing for könig so if something seems suuuuper ooc im sorry :( also! there is no gender mentioned but this was originally written with an afab reader in mind! :]

warnings ! — petnames (sweetheart, meine süße, liebling)

christmas time was always könig's favourite time of year because he got to come home and spend the holidays with you. he'd surprise you, knocking on your front door gently and waiting for you to come and greet him.

-> you furrow your brows in confusion because who is knocking on your door at five in the morning? you open the door, rubbing your eyes before blinking slowly. you see your anxious husband standing there, tapping his fingertips with his thumb. his eyes widen when you practically jump onto his tall figure, wrapping him in a tight hug. his face softens and he wraps his arms around your thighs to keep you steady. he's home.

you're making vanilla chai cookies for your family's christmas gathering and könig comes in, black sweatpants hanging low on his waist. he lazily wraps his arms around your waist, leaving gentle kisses on your exposed neck and shoulder.

-> "love, you're distracting me," you tell him yet he refuses to leave his place. he hums and rubs your hips gently.

"let me help, sweetheart," he whispers to you and you sigh with a nod. he helps you grab out any extra ingredients you need, one of them being flour. he grabs a handful and throws it at your stomach. you let out a gasp, putting a hand up in mock offence.

"uh! excuse me?" you stare at him with challenging eyes and he only gives you an innocent smile.

"i'm helping," he insists.

putting the christmas tree up is not könig's favourite thing, just because he hates having to fluff the branches out. the texture of the fake leaves irritates his skin. he helps you though, because he'd never give up time with you for anything and he loves the way your face lights up as you sing along to silly christmas songs while you circle the tree — wrapping it in tinsel.

-> "mein süße, you're too cute." he says as you hum along to last christmas by wham!.

you laugh and lean up to press a soft kiss against his lips. he smiles down at you, such love and content in his eyes. he zones out for a moment, coming back to reality when you tap him gently.

"help me put the star on?" you ask, holding the glittery ornament in your hand. you'd gotten a new christmas tree this year because könig insisted it had to be taller than he was.

könig doesn't reply, he just lifts you up — holding you by the waist as he waits for you to put the star on the top of the tree.

"okay, hon," you pat his hands gently, "you can put me down now."

könig hums as if in thought and shakes his head. "hm.. no," he tells you before spinning you around so you're facing his chest. you let out a laugh before leaning against him, his body warm compared to yours despite his lack of clothing.

"i love you," you whisper. so quiet, so soft.

"ich liebe dich auch, liebling."

its short im sorry :((( hes so cutiepie though i loved writing this

tags: @konigceo (bc how could i not tag könig's #1 ??)

[poetics-posts]

Hello, welcome to my blog.

You can call me: Lily, Emmy, Milly or simply Emily

Pronouns: Sher/Her

Fandoms: Marvel mcu, X-men movies, Tlou (Videogame & Live action), Call Of Duty (Reboot), Death Note, One Piece (Anime & Live action), Money Heist, Shameless, Sherlock Holmes (BBC), The Mentalist, Taylor Swift, Tv Girl, Cigarettes After Sex, Red Velvet and Twice.

Hobbies: Seeing older men's edits on the internet (daddy issues), reading, listening to music, watching series and movies, I constantly want to move or disappear from other people's lives, I love order and having everything under control and chronically online and sometimes not

My things: I tend to obsess over topics I like, but I know I'll eventually put it aside, i'm not good with conversations and I'm trying to improve that, I consider myself either very conservative or shy and English is not my first language

DNI: Racists, homophobes, It's okay that you don't like something that I like, avoid spreading hate against it and minors not (Be nice on my blog or I will just block you.❗)

My inbox will be open for anything, if you have a question about me or anything related to my personal tastes, I will be open to answer.

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[bloodyknucklesforme]

Don't Blame Me || John 'Soap' MacTavish x Fem!OC

Chapter 1: I Knew You Were Trouble

Ao3 Link | Masterpost

John 'Soap' Mactavish wasn't thrilled to be given an escort mission to bring a young woman halfway across the world to a secret safe house especially when he has to pretend to be her husband. At least she's pretty.

Tags: Fake Marriage, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Slow Build, Canon-Typical Violence

CW: N/A for this chapter

Words: 1.9k

“So, what’s the brief?” Soap strutted into the meeting room, stopping in his tracks realizing it was just Kate Laswell and Cpt. Price waiting for him. They both looked severe, even more so than usual.

Gaz and Ghost were missing which was odd. There were no papers, files, or even a laptop on the table. Just the three of them.

“Sit,” Laswell said. The meeting room was slightly larger than a broom closet with a square fold-out table and chairs. He sat opposite Price with Laswell in the middle. “After consideration of all 141 members, Cpt. Price and I have chosen you for an escort mission.”

“Babysitting?” He couldn’t hide his annoyance.

“It’s more important than that. I need you to get a witness to a safe house up in British Columbia.”

‘Jesus bleeding christ’ he thought ‘do I have to hold their hand on the plane?’ “This is completely off the books. This is a personal safe house, it’s not affiliated with any agency. This person does not exist outside this room, do you understand?”

Off the books? That piqued his interest. He looked towards Price, unreadable as ever. Laswell looked antsy almost. Her eyes darted towards the door a lot, even for CIA.

“I have taken a girl into my personal protection. I need you to take her from London to Canada using only civilian means. You will pick her up tomorrow morning from a hotel and escort her the entire way. There will be a drop in New York that will have a gun, emergency radio, and a couple of other things you might need. You’ll rent a car at the airport. You are to drive the rest of the way.”

“A girl? Like a kid?”

“She’s a kid to me. She’s your age, maybe older maturity-wise.”

“Why not fly her all the way there?”

“This is witness protection. She’s lucky she made it this far already.” She lowered her voice. “The two of you are the only ones I am trusting with knowledge of this. I can’t trust anyone from the CIA, DOD, MI6, or MOD.”

“Why me?” “Ghost won’t take off the mask so she would never trust him.” Soap imagined a fully geared Ghost sitting in a classic American diner booth across from a frightened little lass and had to stop himself from chuckling.

“Soap, this is extremely important to me. I promised her I would keep her safe. She’s already had one attempt on her life when Price moved her the last time.”

“She can handle herself well but no one can take a bullet to the head.” Price said. Soap noticed the fresh bandage on his left arm, it was already bleeding through the gauze.

“Who’s trying to kill ‘er?”

“That’s classified.”

“But how can I protect her if I don’t know what to look for.” He countered but she looked unamused.

“We’ve already lost someone getting her to this point." Price said.

“MacTavish, once you step into that hotel you will become George McIntosh, a newlywed software engineer taking his wife on their cross-country honeymoon road trip.”

“Newlywed?” He looked at her in disbelief.

“It’s easiest to explain why two young people are taking the scenic route across the country.”

“Listen, I’m a soldier, not an actor.”

“You never did a school play?”

“Aye, I was the best tree they could have had.”

“You’ll be given a packet to study along with a passport, $5,000 in USD. There will be a pickup location in New York where you will get a standard-issued pistol. I can get you past security and customs but once you leave you are on your own. Once she is secure, you will drive back over the border and be exfild back to London. You will check in every 48 hours with Captain Price using a satellite phone. He and I are putting our full trust in you to get this girl somewhere safe.” “I can do that.” It wasn’t ideal. He much rather something more exciting than babysitting but the severeness of Laswell’s tone showed there was something else going on. He could do it. Get from point A to point B. He wondered about what it was that she did that reasoned for this much secrecy. “You can count on me, ma’am.” It was decided that he and Price would drive to the hotel before dawn the next morning.

Soap felt like a twat and a tourist. He was dressed in jeans and a plain tv show. Price and he rode the elevator up from the parking garage up to her floor. He was given a rolling suitcase and backpack. No kit allowed. Going to work in civilian clothes felt unnatural. He’d read his packet in the car. It wasn’t anything difficult to remember. He was from Glasglow, went to Edinburgh University, worked as a software engineer, and had just married his long-time sweetheart, Grace. Grace and George, he said a silent prayer for any future children Laswell might have with her naming conventions.

Price stopped him in the hallway, placing a hand on his shoulder. They’d gone over the mission several times but this felt more serious.

“She’s been through a lot, Soap. I know you’re probably curious but don’t ask her about anything.”

“Yes, Sir.” He nodded.

“And please don’t sleep with her.” He squeezed his shoulder.

“Wouldn’t think of it.”

Price knocked on the door. Three sets of two. He stepped back so he could be seen by the peephole.

“You ready?” he asked through the door. He heard the chain come down and he sucked in a breath when the door opened. Price’s last request made a bit more sense now. She was pretty with big brown eyes and her blonde hair pinned back. She was wearing all black with a long jacket. He felt underdressed now. She smiled weakly at Price and gave him a side hug.

“As I’ll ever be.” She had a matching rolling case and had slung her backpack over the handle. He should have thought of that. She looked him over and held out a hand.

“So you’re my new husband.” Her delivery was decidedly neutral with pursed lips. She didn’t look angry but she wasn’t jumping for joy about him either.

“Yeah, Sergent John Mactavish.” He shook her hand as Price whacked his arm.

“You are George McIntosh. She is Grace McIntosh. Nothing else.” He warned. Soap nodded, remembering his role. He took her bag and they headed back down. He tried to act like a good husband, opening any doors for her and refusing to let her carry her own bags.

“Before I forget.” Price said, opening up the center console. “These are for you two.”

He gave Grace a red velvet bag. She pulled out three rings. She slid on the smaller wedding band and the engagement ring and gave him the wider band.

“Guess it’s official now.” He said, putting it on.

Check-in and security went smoothly. She was good at this, taking any and all comments in stride. Talking in line to an older woman about how excited she was to be going to New York with her husband, showing off the rings. She had a posh accent with a twinge of something he didn’t recognize. She talked like an old person, too. Using words he only heard his parents or higher-ups use.

It wasn’t until they sat by the windows, waiting for boarding that she noticed she was shaking, her eyes filling with tears.

“I won’t let anything happen to you.” He whispered. He knew it was a lie but he would do his damndest to keep that promise. “We’ll get there okay.”

“You’re not the first to say that.” She said, turning away from him.

“Any refreshments?” the flight attendant asked. They’d finally taken off after 2 hours of sitting on the tarmac. The delays had made him anxious. Off the books, witness protection was what Laswell said. Get her to a safe house on the other side of the world. That was the mission.

“What do you have alcohol-wise?” She asked, leaning over him. She, Grace or whatever her real name was, was to be his new wife for the next couple of days.

“It’s a bit early.” He said. He didn’t want to babysit a drunk and shepherd her through JFK in a couple of hours.

“It’s our honeymoon, love. I want to celebrate.” She squeezed his shoulder, it wasn’t a completely affectionate move.

“Oh, congrats you two! I’ll actually get you something special. Give me a couple of minutes.”

“That’s so sweet. Thank you.” She was a good actress, he thought. As soon as the attendant walked away Grace turned to glare at him.

“Maybe don’t jump on the overbearing husband bit quite yet.” It was the most she’d said to him since they met a couple hours ago.

“It’s 9 am.”

“I’m jetlagged.” He chuckled at that, at least she was funny on occasion. He wasn’t allowed a full brief on why she needed protection. He was thinking of a retort when she looked at his hand and frowned.

“You’re wearing yours wrong.” She said. “What?” He looked at her confused.

“Give me your hand.” She didn’t wait for a reply. She took his right hand and slid the ring off.

“It’s a ring. How do I wear it wrong?”

“You’re wearing it on the wrong hand. It goes on your left.”

“Does it matter?”He asked, trying to pull away. She grabbed his wrist tightly though. She was stronger than she looked.

“It’s closest to your heart.” She said, placing it back on his left hand. “We’re married. Act like it.”

“If we were actually married I’d like to think we’d be doing something a bit more enjoyable than sitting here.” She kicked him in the side of the leg at that.

“Bleedin Christ, woman.” He kicked her back. She slapped his shoulder in retaliation and he grabbed her wrist before she could fully recoil. She grabbed his forearm and soon they were struggling against each other. They couldn’t afford to get kicked off this plane and soon came to a standstill, holding on to each other in tense silence.

“On the count of three, we’ll both let go. Okay?” He said. She nodded, glaring at him. She sucked on her teeth when she was angry. She was kind of cute when she was angry. “1,2,3.”

They both let go, turning away from each other.

“I’m sorry.” She was the first to say it which surprised him, he wasn’t going to apologize. “It’s been a rough fucking week.”

She was staring out the window now. She kept drifting like that. He could see in her eyes she was somewhere else entirely. He knew the look, she was constantly running away from her own memories. He wanted to ask. He wished he’d asked Price. Why her? What did she do? What happened to her? Was it something she heard or saw? Something she did?

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to be a better husband.” He wanted to make her laugh again, he was glad it worked even if it was a small one.

The flight attendant came back with a tiny bottle of champagne. “Cheers?” He asked, holding out a plastic cup to her. She took it and knocked it into his, sloshing a bit. “To our wonderful honeymoon.” She rolled her eyes but drank.

She knocked out soon after, pulling the collar of her coat up over her face. He pulled the window shade down and let her sleep. It was an eight-hour flight and she looked like she could use the rest. He’d wake her up when they landed. He turned his body to face the aisle and fell asleep shortly after her.

Next Chapter

A/N: Thank you so much for reading this! This is my first fic in years and my first time posting on AO3. S/O to my friends who both beta read and have pointed out the MW2 display every time we go to Target. You can also find me on Tumblr under the same username. I post headcanons and other things there. I'm really excited for this story. I hope to post chapter 3 later this week and do 2+ chapters a week depending on work and school. Thank you again so much for giving this a try. P.S. There will be smut later, I promise.