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silaslich · 11 days ago

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If it hurts to breathe, open a window

Simon “Ghost” Riley x gn!reader

Summary - following the first mission with Soap in mw2. You meet Ghost for the first time, he’s different to the stories you’ve been told.

Wc - 10k

Cw - heavy on plot, injury/blood/death, directly follows mw2 canon, canon typical violence, plane crash

Dark clouds crowded the sky overhead, swirling in a mass of stoney graphite and charcoal grey. The butter-kissed horizon of daylight had faded into a mass of deep violet and midnight blue, melting against the sky to make way for the cover of night.

There was so much noise around for your ears to process; the trucks engine roaring as it’s tyres rolled smoothly and quickly over the damp tarmac, the loud excited voices of the men sitting next to and across from you as they chatted away- having to shout into one another’s ear over the sound of the Boeing CH-47’s rotor system booming to life as she prepared to depart onto the runway.

You kept your eyes down, staring idly at the dark steel floor, mind processing and dissecting the information you’d been given not even an hour ago.

General Ghorbrani was dead. Killed in a missile strike in Al Mazrah several months ago after being discovered working with the Russians- whom of which were supplying Iran with armour and hardware. Part of Tf-141 along with Shadow Company had been the ones to neutralise the threat and the entire arms deal.

Same shit different day, only, it wasn’t as simple as that this time. Ghorbrani had a second in command, Hassan Zyani, Quds Force Major. He’d taken up the mantle for Iran. Now it was him supplying terrorists; money, weapons, intel. You name it. The man was dangerous and he wanted retaliation for the Ghorbrani strike, he wanted revenge, that in itself was dangerous enough. Laswell was convinced he was planning something, and whatever it was, it was going to be big. She had managed to track him and found that he was on the ground in Al Mazrah, and that’s just where you were headed.

You were knocked out of your dissociative state when someone lightly punched your arm. “Y’alright?” The Scotsman was his usual optimistic self, a stupid grin slanting across his face as he looked at you.

You nodded, realising the vehicle had stopped and was beginning to empty around the two of you. Soap stood up from the bench and jumped down from the tailgate, nodding his head to the side, signalling for you to follow him. You did, adjusting your gun at your side as you landed squarely on two feet.

John ‘Soap’ Mactavish had been a thorn in your side for the majority of your military service. Despite being deployed hundreds of times in numerous countries all across the globe you still ended up bumping into that big Scottish bastard far too often. He looked out for you, although you never asked him to, he’d taken a shining to you. And you to him. Like the brother you never had, and never wanted. He always knew how to lighten even the darkest of situations; whether it was his shit jokes or stupid questions, he never failed to pull you out of your own head.

You had joined the British Army at your earliest opportunity when you left college at eighteen. With nothing keeping you tied to home anymore- you left. Without a single pence in your pocket or a dream in your head. Better to die fighting in a war than die fighting an overdose in a back alley like some do. Stuck in a town that never wakes. Dingy corner shops and abandoned parks that are rusted to death. Those same people that have been there for years and never leave. They’re too content there, you think, perfectly happy in their mediocrity. You had wanted more. You didn’t want to fade into that kind of life. Scraping together change from a shitty job to get by, meeting and settling with someone for the sake of it only to have a child entirely accidentally- stuck forever. You needed more.

After serving for a little over a decade you were drawn for the SRR, moving up rank and earning your title as Sergeant only a year later- then finally you were transferred to the SAS. Who you’d now served with for the last two years. It was worlds apart from your early army days, you hadn’t needed to go through the selection process because you were handpicked and transferred, but the stories you’d heard over dinner in the canteen and through whispers in the barracks spoke for themselves in volumes.

Soap held his rifle with two hands, keeping it close to his chest as he moved to step forward. The two of you were strapped to the gills in full gear; night vision goggles sitting atop your helmet, throwing knives strapped to your sides and your full equipment vest covering your chest. A patch of the British flag in grey, black and white strapped to your vest proudly.

You stood fast- following Soap’s back with your eyes as you watched him approach another soldier. The soldier was tall. Much taller than Soap was, and that was saying something considering the Scotsman was at least a head taller than you, the line of your shoulder just reaching the mid of his bicep. His height hadn’t been the first thing you noticed about this soldier- no, it was his mask. The crude face covering was fashioned from a black balaclava and skull mask; sewn together with thick stitches connecting them to one another and painted with thick-dull lines of off-white down through the eyes and over the teeth. You cocked your head and squinted your eyes, you were stood too far away to hear what they were saying, and with Soap’s back towards you and this soldier’s face covered nothing gave their topic of conversation away.

Simon Riley. Otherwise known as Ghost both in and out of the field, not many earned the right to call him by his real name.

You’d never met him, only now setting eyes on him for the first time; but Soap had told you all about him. Not just Soap, but near enough every soldier in any platoon you’d served with had a story to tell of the Ghost. Wether it was something they’d either seen or heard, he had a reputation. Not only was he an expert marksman; he was highly intelligent and was a master with his knife skills, but he was most notorious for his stealth and torture expertise. He was an anomaly. Not only was he greatly feared but he was simultaneously looked up to and admired, soldiers wanted to be like him. Be him.

Johnny gave the man a punch to the shoulder, identical to the one he’d just given you, from the stupid grin on his face when he turned back to face you, it was clear Soap was happy to see Ghost. The man in the mask stood for a second and you watched, he didn’t follow after Soap right away, you saw briefly that his mouth was moving beneath his mask, he was talking to someone over comms. Slowly turning to walk the other way as he did.

MacTavish approached you “let’s get ourselves a win, yeah?” he tapped your shoulder twice as he passed by you, making his way toward the helo just twenty feet behind you, now full of marines.

“Let’s” you answered him swiftly, still watching from the corner of your eye as Ghost continued to retreat further away from the transport, you turned you shoulder to follow after Soap when he was no longer in your view.

It wasn’t long before everyone was onboard and you were air born, flying inbound towards the border of Al Mazrah. The craft rocked and jerked with the turbulence, it was cramped and warm and far too loud. Flashing white lights assaulted your vision like beacons from time to time, breaking through the streams of deep crimson red that painted the entire inside of the holding compartment. The flight was relatively short in comparison to other missions you’d been on. Still, there was something stagnant lingering in the air, a hunger palpating the breath of these men.

Laswell’s brief had been short and sweet, a run down on enemy positions and the split teams objectives. Three words kept ringing through your skull. Capture or kill.

When it boiled down to it. Hassan was needed alive, but the reality was there was every chance that it might be forced out of someone’s hands. It was still a mission success if he was killed, but the priority was getting him alive.

By chance, Ghost had been seated directly across from you the entire duration of the transport over. With his gun held to his chest he stared forward, right through you, and you did the same. He didn’t scare you, he had no need to. However, his energy did throw you slightly. He had a calm eeriness about him, and his demeanour was even and smooth, but you had a feeling that would all change as soon as he set his boots down onto enemy ground in a few short minutes.

The helo stuttered in the air, dropping lower and cutting through the air as you neared closer to the ground. Silently, Ghost stood.

His gruff voice tore through the white noise of the whirring rotors of the craft, this was the first time you’d heard him speak.

“Bravo team offloads here. Alpha team stays onboard with the Sergeant to land downrange” the heavy footfalls of his boots echoed across the floor as he proceeded down the craft, your rank and name ringing in your ears as he continued addressing his soldiers. “Both teams meet in the middle. Remember, we want Hassan alive” he stopped at the ramp, turning back to speak again “but this is capture or kill.”

As the craft came to thudding land and the ramp began to descend with a mechanical whir, the men selected for Bravo team began to stand, migrating towards Ghost as he stood and waited. Soap stood from his seat next to you with a grunt, adjusting his gun to free up his right hand; wordlessly he held out his fist. You didn’t need prompting, you reached up and bumped your fist against his, nodding at him as his mouth quirked up, just slightly. As you looked towards the ramp your eyes were met with cold dark irises staring right back at you, neither of you made a move to break the eye contact. Ghost was momentarily blocked from your view by Soap’s back, you heard the clack of Ghost flipping his night vision goggles down “keep up, Soap” he barked as he turned to descend the ramp.

You found yourself watching them both as they left, their stances shifting low as they drew their guns and headed towards the broken sandstone structures that had been destroyed long before your teams had gotten here. The ramp shut quickly and you were airborne again, the loud deafening sound of the rotars whirring over your head kicking back into gear again. You shook your head and took a deep inhale of breath, shifting to a stance that meant you wouldn’t stumble from the turbulence.

“You heard the lieutenant team Alpha” your voice was clear and loud, carrying through the torrent of noise. “Let’s get this done” you added as you turned, glancing out of one of the circular windows to peer out into the navy star-speckled night sky.

The sky was one of the only things that stayed consistent in your life. When things got rough or began to drown you, all you had to do was look up. No matter rain or shine; light or dark or sunset or night sky. It always gave you a calming sense of reality, something to escape away from the unfair world you lived in. Away from the blood and the bullets.

As you casted your eyes over toward a cluster of hills nestled against the horizon, a fast approaching stream of fire and smoke stole your eye. Before you could raise the alarm, the pilot’s voice sparked your comms device to life “All stations- Razor-1 is bracketed. We’re getting lit!” His panic was evident and your heart jumped in your throat, you needed to get these men out alive.

“Alpha team hold fast! Prepare for impact” your voice was hoarse as you shouted over the pilot’s voice as he continued shouting through the comms, you urged your men to copy your actions as you held onto the supports above your head, bracing for impact. You felt the entire craft lurch and you were thrown forward, hitting your head against the metal frame of the wall as you collided with it.

“Razor 1 going down! We’re going down!” The pilot bellowed and it rang through your already ringing ears, your vision blurred and the swirl of red lights had you dazed. You tried to stand again, the missile had hit and the whole contents of the craft were flung upwards, including you and your men. You urged them to hang on, to protect themselves from injury as best they could-this was bad and you knew it. You gave them hope as your brain ran into overdrive, wondering how to come out of this.

The impact was like nothing you’d ever experienced- there weren’t any training drills that could simulate a cargo helo crashing from a missile strike at full plummeting speed. Yourself and everyone else on board were flung like rag dolls, colliding with each other, colliding with the walls and ceiling. You caught yourself on a loose seatbelt as you were sent flying forward, palms stinging as the material tore through the skin of your palms. You managed to steady yourself and were forced to watch as one soldier attempted to break his fall with his hands, his arms snapping like twigs from the g-force of the crash and the weight of his own body. You let go of the belt and landed on your back, your ribs connecting with a weapons carrier on the way down as another jolt sent you hurling at Godspeed. You heard the crunch of your bones and winced at the sting running up your side like an electric shock.

The whole ordeal was quick; as the smoke rose and the broken-frayed wiring sparked to illuminate the chaos around you, you could see clearly the full extent of destruction and devastation from the crash.

You coughed as you felt blood begin to fill your mouth and you could feel something warm oozing down the right side of your face. Before you could fully process the scene around you, your comms crackled and a voice found your ears. “Alpha, what’s your status?!” Ghost’s voice was on the brink of showing a slight slither of emotion. You felt like you were choking, the blood and the smoke, it was all too much. You blinked through the darkness and tried to gather your bearings. Rising gingerly to your knees, you were quick to have to clutch at your side, trying to subdue the pain.

Blood stained the walls and floors, bodies were slumped around you and all you could hear was the sounds of coughing and shifting that were almost muted against the sound of the fire now ripping through the crash site. “Alpha, how copy?” Ghost was there again in your head, voice rattling through your ear piece.

You cleared your throat “Ghost” you choked on the blood in your mouth “Alpha is immobile multiple critical!” You slumped down, your body ceasing from the pain as it tore through your nerves. Your senses were lit ablaze when bullets began to rain through the fire and debris, catching the metal and rattling like hailstones. You pressed yourself low to the ground with a pained grunt, pressing your thumb down on your comms again. “Shit! We’re taking effective fire!” You shouted, crawling on your hands and knees toward the wounded, planning to find a gun and cover them from the bullets.

“Sergeant, we’re moving to building 1, hold tight!” As quick as his voice was there again, it was gone.

Your eyes searched the wreckage for anything to help combat the active fire you were taking, that’s when you noticed a gun beneath one of the wounded and you crawled closer towards him. Trying to be as gentle as you could, you rolled him onto his side but he still howled in pain- despite the guilt you knew you had to press on. You nudged the gun from beneath his legs and laid him flat again, not wanting to do him anymore damage if it were his neck or spine that was injured. You grabbed the gun and moved towards better cover, the wreck wasn’t secure and it wouldn’t be long before the enemy moved closer and you’d be compromised. You didn’t open fire yet, there was no point with just one gun, you kept your eyes about you but moved to tend to more wounded.

It was clear that amongst the casualties there were mortally wounded soldiers on your hands, some already dead or close to it. You tried to make them comfortable, trying hard not to think too hard into it. You would want the same if you were in their position. You tried to drown out the noise of the shells raining through the wreckage. Spouting nonsense about nothing, humming a tune as you tied a strip of ripped cloth around someones half amputated leg. You’d seen chaos before, even before you joined the army, but you hadn’t seen this caliber of bloodied carnage in a long time- not since you’d first been deployed.

Back when the fresh faces of young soldiers are first shipped out, not knowing what lays ahead, unknowing that the friends they made in their months of training could soon be lying face down in the mud. You didn’t like thinking back to that time, but right now, you’d give anything to be back there.

You didn’t keep track of time, you thought it best not to. The fire was burning its way around you, it felt like it was under your skin, sweating from the inside out. Bullet shells didn’t cease fire upon your position, they grew erratic and laboured, like the enemy were unsure if anyone was even still alive in the wreckage. You jumped when you heard a voice in your ear again.

“Soap- we’re moving to the crash site to help the wounded. Rest o’ you hold here and cover us” it was Ghost again. The boys were close, not long and you’d have help. It might have only been seconds before you heard footsteps closing in, you could never be safe, you pointed your gun towards the noise and held your finger on the trigger. Always ready. You focused your eyes, squeezing the trigger.

“Blue blue!” A voice shouted, you dropped the aim of your gun, relief rinsing through your bloodstream as you saw Ghost and Soap enter the wreckage.

“It’s good to see you two” you sighed “we’ve got five KIA and one wounded, it’s just me and my gun” you said, eyes daring to peer outside toward the tree line, checking for more movement. Ghost stiffened.

“They’re here, get your fuckin’ gun on that tree line” he ordered, moving himself into position as Soap followed.

You raised yourself up, holding onto some webbing draping across the craft for some leverage, you’d taken more damage than you’d initially realised. It would have to wait. Coming up to stand to your full height, you shuffled yourself into a better position. You took a low firing line, flipping the night vision goggles atop your helmet into position so you could better see. It wasn’t clear, smoke still rising, but it was clear enough.

“Got movement” Soap stated roughly.

“If you have a shot, take it” Ghost’s tone was menacing, his demeanour had done a complete 180 onto its head, like you’d predicted. You were the first to shoot.

“Engage!” you shouted, spotting more shooters spilling from behind a wall. Bullets sliced through the air, the sound ringing in your ears from all angles. You hit multiples, as did the boys, the enemy gave it their best go too. Your eyes caught sight of something, you shouted as you realised what it was. “RPG!” You ducked your head, watching the men in the wreckage around you do the same, very briefly. What was left of the helo rocked and jerked from the force of the blow, more metal flying away and shredding.

“Fuck” Soap growled, losing his bearings. Ghost let out a frustrated noise.

“Get your guns up” you all continued to fire, watching more enemy soldiers dropped to the ground.

This continued, more and more soldiers spilling from the tree line and opening fire. You were low on ammo, you threw a grenade out the window in front of you and it rolled towards a cluster of wooden supply boxes, at least three men were killed when the blast went off. Ghost was opening fire like hell, Soap too, the Scotsman quickly running out and setting mines between reloading stints to fend off the targets that managed to get close enough.

“Dig in, lads. We’re not done yet” the lieutenant was still firing as he spoke, not letting his guard down once. You kept your eyes forward, squinting them when you noticed an abnormal layering of smoke begin to rise from the tree line.

“We got smoke, boys, in the tree line” you grit your teeth, knowing what this meant.

“No visual” Soap said, flatly.

You retorted “I can’t see shit”.

There was a second of silence, “incoming!” Ghost shouted.

More fire hit you, a bullet whizzed so close past your face you wouldn’t have been surprised if it left a mark. Too close. You’d not realised, but Ghost was practically at your side, covering more men coming from the tree line closer to where you were shooting.

“Take cover!” he barked, cold eyes glaring forward as he shot more rounds into the smoke. More explosions rang out, coming closer each time, rumbling the very earth from the force of it.

“They’re launching grenades!” Soap shouted.

Your gun ran out of ammo and you’d lost your hand gun in the crash, your eyes darted around, then you saw the one strapped to the lieutenant’s thigh. You ripped it quickly from the holster, adjusting your position on your knees to get a better shot. You fired through the explosions and into the darkness, hearing more thuds as more targets hit the dirt. Ghost didn’t seem to react to you taking his gun, maybe he was too focussed on the incoming fire. You didn’t catch what he said, speaking through comms to whoever was there. Your brain felt like mush and your ears were still ringing, not to mention the bleeding from your head hadn’t stopped.

“Air support is on its way” he said.

Some of the smoke started to clear. Less and less soldiers were pushing through to the wreckage, this was nearly over.

“Let’s move up. We clear this position and push forward, if Hassan is still here he’s up ahead” Ghost gave the order, Soap clearly didn’t agree but there was no time for discussion. You whistled for their attention.

“Armoured vehicles closing in, there’s four of ‘em” you stated, watching them roll into the darkness through your goggles.

The men adjusted their stances, “let ‘em get close” Ghost ordered, clearly thinking about conserving energy and ammo. You nodded.

Just as they came close enough, the three of you let bullets free, the enemy returning it back with the same fever. To your relief the skys growled over head, barely noticeable through the shrouds of smoke, turrets of bullets rained down by the hundreds, air support cleared the way for you to move up the hill.

A soldier from bravo team radioed through from where he was covering your position, “all clear lieutenant, no movement ahead” he stated.

Ghost replied straight away with a simple “rog”.

Ghost turned, not specifically toward you but toward the entirety of the wreckage, darkened eyes scanning the carnage. His thumb pressed into the button of his comms device, “air support, task a bird for casualty evac” it crackled as he waited for a response.

“Roger that lieutenant” they quickly responded.

Soap and Ghost led the way out of the wreckage and you quickly followed after them. “Alpha you’re with us” Ghost shouted, a number of soldiers joined you as they answered back a “yes sir” in unison.

Your lungs felt like they were on fire and your ribcage felt weak, hollow-boned like that of a bird. The pain was piercing you, like needles pressing deep down into the fibres of your muscles. But you kept on, legs carrying you along with the others, pure adrenaline being your only saving grace at this point. You hissed in pain as your damaged knee almost gave way beneath you, the lieutenant noticed.

“They used us for fucking bait, didn’t they?” you growled, trying your best not to look like you were struggling. Ghost cocked his head toward you.

“They’re well supplied and fighting smart, thanks to Hassan” he put it simply. Soap chimed in.

“Aye. Looks like you were right, Lt.” he said.

Your eyes took in the scene in front of you, fire and explosions lighting the way. “You think Hassan’s still here?” You asked, eyes and borrowed hand gun still aiming forward.

“Heli crash gave ‘em an opening. Let’s see if they took it” Ghost was a realist. Good to know.

All of you continued to run. Breaths heaving and bodies aching. Adrenaline fuelled your blood, you moved up quickly, arriving at the last building. You went to take positions when fire rained toward you, a soldier only inches to your left dropped, caught in the line of a sniper.

“Man down!” you shouted, unable to look at the man as you took his rifle. You dropped low as everyone around you did the same, focusing fire on the roof top of the building.

“AQ has got night vision” Soap stated the obvious, taking out two snipers simultaneously. You grunted in response, focusing your eye through the scope and taking out another shooter up ahead.

“Clear” Ghost shouted. “Move up. Let’s find Hassan, dead or alive” his tone shifted, dangerous now.

You made it to the house. Clearing the first floor, dropping anyone that moved. “We need positive ID on Hassan, check the bodies” you barked out to the soldiers behind you, sticking with Soap and Ghost as they continued to move on.

It was all negative. No positive ID from any of the bodies, he wasn’t upstairs either. The three of you continued, a door flung open, before they could even move to fire their weapon, Ghost shot a round into their stomach and another into their skull. Dropping them effortlessly like it was nothing.

The house was wrecked. A twisted mess of broken brick and fractured stone, electrical wire looming low overhead firing sparks in all directions. You stuck close to Soap as he followed Ghost, noticing that there was a voice playing through something- you all moved toward it, heading up more stairs. Ghost broke the door with a kick, no positive on Hassan, just his propaganda playing on loop through a laptop.

“Hassan’s everywhere” Ghost growled and

“Everywhere but here” Johnny scoffed.

You split off, heading off alone through more of the upstairs, the boys didn’t noticed you’d gone. They’d clearly continued on thinking you were right there behind them. You pointed your gun around the door frame of an upstairs corridor, your body following as you perceived it to be clear. Last minute, bullets flew through a compromised section of the dry wall, heading straight towards you. By some luck, you’d managed to dodge them, leering forward behind a protruding structure in the wall and retaliating with your own fire. You cleared the corridor and entered the room that the target had been guarding. Hassan had been in there.

Ghost and Soap must have been alerted by the gun fire, they came in hot, practically sprinting to your location. They stopped short in the doorway, your back was towards them, their eyes searched the room. You turned towards them, a uniform jacket scrunched tightly in your fist.

“Hassan’s uniform” you seethed. Mactavish gave out a grunt.

“So he was here” he flailed an arm in frustration. Ghost remained in the doorway, his eyes low.

“Lost him when we secured the crash site” he said simply, lowly.

The weight of Ghost’s words hit you in the chest like a bullet, but you knew they shouldn’t have, deep down you knew he was right. Soap was standing between you and Ghost, his eyes darting between the two of you.

“Are you sayin’ we shouldn’t have helped?” Soap squared his shoulders. Ghost just shrugged.

“Choices have consequences”. It was just that simple.

“All bravo, we’ve got movement out here” the voice hit through your ear piece, breaking the tension in the room.

“On the way” Ghost confirmed.

The three of you continued on. Moving back the way you’d come and heading out towards the rest of the team, they’d seen movement in a warehouse up ahead. All of Bravo and what was left of Alpha moved in, lighting up fire when they reached the rolling doors. More soldiers dropped. Shot dead. You all kept pushing through, eyes through scopes and fingers on triggers. You broke off, tucking and rolling behind a metal container, opening more fire as you pushed the enemy back with forcible ammunition. Ghost was on your tail, following after you and overtaking, pushing on through. Soap was up next and came to cover you, locking his palms together to make it easier for you to hoist yourself up on top of the container. There was another container there to keep you shielded, it gave you a vantage point over the targets that had tried to retreat to higher ground. You dropped them easily.

For what felt like the first time in hours, everything stopped. All of the noise. Everything.

“Are we clear?” Soap shouted up to you, you let out a laboured breath. You stuck your thumb up.

“Clear” you said. Your knees burned as you jumped down from the container, you didn’t give yourself a chance to ease yourself down.

“Search it, let’s see what they’re hiding” Ghost’s voice echoed through the now dying silence, the warehouse carrying the gravely baritone of his voice. You closed in on Johnny, following him as he approached one of the container doors that was ajar. From first look, it was controls. Panels and buttons and screens.

“What the fuck is this?” Soap queried. You looked closer.

“It’s all in English” you said, eyes still scanning frantically. Living up to his name, Ghost was suddenly there, behind you, so close you could feel his warmth at your back. You watched as Soap flipped one of the switches, the entire warehouse shook, the container vibrating and whirring.

All three of you stepped back quickly, eyes trained up watching it all unfold.

“Fucking hell” you breathed.

“Steamin’ Jesus” Soap’s jaw was on the floor.

“Ballistic missiles”. Ghost’s gaze hardened.

You frowned “it’s a mobile launcher”.

Another soldier chimed in behind you. “These will go 1,000 miles”.

“At least” Ghost added.

You stepped forward and moved around to the left of the container to get a better look, Soap wasn’t far behind.

“How the hell did Iran get their hands on this?” Soap growled in the back of his throat.

The men watched as you ascended the weapon carriers that were piled up next to the container, making quick work of the climb, a new shot of rage fuelled adrenaline kicking through your veins.

Ghost spoke up “7-6, get us through to Laswell” his eyes were still scanning the discovery in front of him.

“Roger, stand by” the soldier spoke quickly “Bravo 7-6 Charlie to Watcher-1, how copy?” You all waited for a response.

Laswell’s voice quickly chimed in “this is Watcher-1, send traffic” she spoke clearly.

“Laswell, this is Ghost. We got something” the concern was laced in his voice.

“You found Hassan?” She asked quickly.

Your eyes landed on something truly jolting. “Ghost, Soap, take a look at this” you urged, turning your neck to meet their eyes, their expression no doubt mirrored yours. Laswell’s frantic voice broke the silence again.

“Ghost, do you have Hassan?” She asked again.

You watched as Ghost pressed down the button to his comm, leaning down to speak loud and clear. “Negative. We found a weapons cache. Hassan’s got missiles, they’re American” a silence enveloped the warehouse.

“0-7 this is Gold Eagle Actual, repeat your last” General Shepherd’s voice was frantic.

“I’ll say again, Hassan has American missiles” Ghost repeated.

It’s almost as if the air was sucked from the warehouse like a vacuum. You would have heard a pin drop it was that quiet. The way you slumped down into a seated position wasn’t graceful or quiet, but you weren’t about to stand for any longer then you needed to. Soap snapped his neck toward you, his eyes searching yours, you nodded toward him with a half-arsed thumbs up. You saw in the way that his expression fell that you weren’t in a good way, the bleached lights of the warehouse would have left no injury of yours unseen to the eye. You’d lost a lot of blood but you’d make more, right now there were more important things to worry about.

Rain pattered gently across your cheeks, it’s cold chill seeping right down to your bones- forcing you to shiver. You hummed, arms crossed over your chest as you sat on the damp brick stone wall with your chin tilted skyward, more droplets cascading down your face like gentle streams over your skin.

This was probably the only thing you missed about England. The shit weather. Soaking wet springtimes and late hazy summers, rugged cold autumns and early winters smothered with snow. You struggled to remember much about them; you didn’t have fond childhood memories of building snow men and drinking hot chocolate, nor were you able to think back to a summer where you’d stay at the park all day playing football, coming home to a freezer-burnt ice cream that your mum had dug out for you.

There was none of that. None of the warm fondness or swell of nostalgic familiarity in your chest. You pushed everything away. There was nothing that you saw worthy to keep in your head; no core memories of birthdays or holidays, no movie nights in or sleepovers with friends. Your entire childhood had been stolen from you, thrown away- just like you had been.

Your memories of British summertimes were filled with laughter; water fights on the barrack fields after quitting time. Bike rides at sunrise instead of hitting the gym, even wild swims at the coast on rarer occasions.

The wet springtimes; running drills through knee high mud, purposefully hitting the ground with heavy footfalls to splash one another. Wringing out your rain soaked shirts in the locker rooms and whipping each other till your skin welted- crying with laugher till you were on the floor.

Autumn, perhaps your favourite. Walking across base - watching as the leaves fell in a blanket of umber and tawny, crunched under your boots, the smell of damp earth in the air, so fresh and free as it stole the very breath from your lungs.

Harsh winters were common, on the contrary to summer, wild swims in below freezing temperatures as part of vital training, your teeth chattering so hard you were sure they’d break. Warm hot chocolate spiced with a drop of whiskey in the evening; settled around a table, talking about everything and nothing in the communal rooms while shuffling a deck of cards- thinking about the idea of found family, realising it’s not as far out of reach as you’d thought.

Those were your memories of home, of England, your memories of the place you were born.

The military had been the making of you- there was nothing before that, you were made for this. You told yourself that on repeat, the army had saved you, put a roof over your head. There was no shadow of doubt that your life would have been very different if you hadn’t taken this route, and you were convinced that you would have been six feet under by now.

The rain was only passing. The frigid breeze carrying it ever so gently, kissing your skin. You wished a storm would come your way, wash you out and provide a much needed clarity- a reset. You did always love thunderstorms, watching the lightning split the sky, cracking and illuminating as it broke apart.

You were sitting outside. The backend of the barracks were more sheltered, further hidden from higher ups that would scald you for being outdoors so late.

After the last twenty-four hours you’d had, you should have completely crashed. Been dead to the world as soon as your head hit your pillow. But you didn’t - couldn’t. Unable to sleep, unable to settle, thoughts racing and mind following. There was so much going through your head, and that wasn’t common for you, this should have been just like any other day; any other job.

Something was different, and you knew it was far from over yet.

Soap had been by your side the entirety of the transport back to the barracks, his eyes wide and searching as he asked you question after question, barely letting you close your eyes for even a second for fear you’d slip into a coma from the blood-loss.

You wanted to bang your head against the metal of the craft as you sat there listening to him drone on. Either that or you would rip Johnny’s voice box out of his throat with your bare hands. Ghost’s fists clenched where they sat resting on his thighs.

“Leave it, Mactavish” he’d barked, clicking his tongue as he did, clearly it wasn’t just your nerves Soap was grating on.

You wanted to laugh as you watched the Scotsman shrink back in his seat, like a dog with its tail between its legs, not liking getting told off. Yet, your smile washed away, swallowed by the tension in the craft. The entire mission hadn’t gone to plan, coming up short, following dead lead after dead lead. With fatalities and injuries on top of that, it didn’t serve to keep the morale of the team up.

The three of you didn’t speak much. You could see the tiredness eating it’s way at Soap, feeling as his body grew heavier and heavier beside you in his seat. Ghost was sitting across from you, like he had done on the transport over seas chasing the dead lead, you couldn’t see him all that clearly, the night flight back to base didn’t provide much light to go by, only giving you a rough shadowed outline of where and how he was sitting.

Yet, you were sure you could feel Ghost’s mind ticking over. Almost as if you could hear the man thinking, could hear the gears turning over and over in his head as he sat there- stewing away behind that mask of his. He kept his arms folded across his chest, another barrier thrown up in defence, dead eyes glaring towards the ceiling as he rested the crown of his head against the back of his seat. He had his legs kicked out and splayed apart, resting either side of your boots, right foot tapping away in absent thought.

You hadn’t managed to sleep, didn’t even feel groggy at all, and you were always the first to sleep on transport. Usually loved getting rocked to sleep from the turbulence or terrain. There had been a running joke for years that you could sleep anywhere at anytime, your body had improved over the years at getting used to time zones and differences, it barely reached you anymore.

It was unusual. Your body wouldn’t allow you to rest, perhaps the adrenaline hadn’t subsided just yet, maybe after you’d been to medical upon landing and gotten cleaned up you’d feel better.

Negative.

Soap had marched you to the medial building as soon as you’d gotten to base, tugging you by the arm like you were a naughty child. The other soldiers had gone straight to the barracks, heading straight to their bunks to sleep off the last twenty-four hours, they’d earned it. Even Ghost went.

You shooed Johnny away as soon as you were being seen to, urging him that he didn’t have to babysit you and that he should rest up. You reminded him that this wouldn’t be a long respite. He had nodded, a smile quirking at his lips as he held out his fist, you rolled your eyes- but you bumped your fist to his nether the less.

The sweet nurse had tried to express her concerns for the state you were in, but as lovely as she was, you brushed her off. She was short and blonde, the tiredness in her pretty hazel eyes showing you she’d been in the med room since early doors. She’d urged for you to have x-rays taken of your chest, that even if your ribs were just fractured that it could potentially cause other issues if you hadn’t already punctured a lung or lacerated any other organs. You pulled a bullshit excuse out of your arse and handed it to her with the nicest of smiles, hopping down from the examination bed as you buttoned your shirt back up. She’d already cleaned and taped the wound on your head, cleaning some of your other cuts and grazes and smothering them in balm to keep anything nasty out. She sent you on your way after shoving some heavy painkillers down your throat, knowing you weren’t going to take her advice and that you’d deploy again tomorrow, and she was right- you couldn’t sit this one out now.

After leaving the medical building you’d made your way outside, and you hadn’t moved since. It must have been hours now. You stopped counting after two, letting the cold chill of the rain and wind sting your face as you perched there on that wall, content and calm. Perhaps it was the painkillers making your head foggy, calming the thrum of your blood as you stared out into the star studded darkness.

Upon hearing heavy footfalls scuffing across the concrete, you turned your attention to the source of the sound, watching a shadowy figure approaching as they descended the stairs that led back towards the main buildings. You couldn’t see all too clearly, there were no lights to illuminate the area in which you were sitting, to purposely discourage loitering. Whoever it was didn’t speak right away, you tilted your head back towards the sky, closing your eyes with a sigh. They came to a stop next to where you were sitting on the wall, not invading your space directly but barely keeping their distance.

A faint click of a lighter striking caught your attention and your eyes opened to flicker over to your left- it was Ghost.

The cigarette was already between his lips, his left hand cupping it to protect it from the wind and rain as the other hand held the lighter, dying away with a loud click.

You watched as he inhaled deeply, the swell of his chest rising as the end of the cigarette illuminated a deep amber, causing shadows to dance across his face from the glow. The mask caught you. This wasn’t the one he’d been wearing before, this one was a simple black balaclava with his characteristic skull printed onto the lower part of the face- it was already pulled up to the bridge of his nose when you had turned to look at him. There were thick smudges of black-grease paint plastered over his eye sockets, making the colour contrast with the hickory brown of his eyes.

There was something about your lieutenant that you couldn’t quite grasp fully; you’d met plenty of reserved soldiers before, closed off and more secretive about themselves and their lives outside of these walls- but Ghost was different. It’s as if there was nothing outside of these walls for him. The military and the 141 were his entire life, the reason he breathed air and woke up in a morning.

When the others made plans for leave or talked about their families, he didn’t, he’d stay and he’d listen. Never has he ever uttered so much as a word about his private life, maybe he did have one, maybe a wife and a family- but you couldn’t see it.

He was just so- unmoved. He barely showed outward concern for himself or his team, the latter more so but only if it was fatal. He knew that collateral damage was a given, he knew that every mission he deployed on he would come back with less soldiers then he left with. Ghost swallowed that pill everyday, the lives he holds in his hands, the weight of the grief on his shoulders. It was any surprise he was still standing, but you guess he was numb to it now, that’s why he didn’t feel it anymore. He was so used to death and destruction, it was starting to be ineffective at jarring him, at making him feel any kind of way about it.

Ghost pockets the lighter, reaching up and holding the cigarette between his thumb and index finger as he retracts it from his mouth, a deep-dark cloud of smoke falling from his lips as he breathes it out.

Your eyes lingered. Assessing the dressed down version of the infamous soldier as he leaned back against the wall. His boots and trousers were what was left of his uniform, from the waist up he was wearing a charcoal coloured jacket with a high collar that he’d pulled up, covering what you could see of a simple black undershirt peeking out from between the zipper of his jacket.

The darkness didn’t provide your eyes well, only when he took a drag of his cigarette could you see the outlines of the lower half of his face. Even then, you didn’t risk staring, despite your- curiosity he was still your lieutenant.

It’s normal to be curious- you keep telling yourself. He’s your lieutenant; your point of call, your lifeline when you’re out there risking life and limb. Yet, you’ve never seen his face, would never be able to pick him out in a sea of hundreds. He doesn’t owe you anything, you’re new to his charge, under his wing so to speak, but you’re leading this mission with him and Johnny- the least you should be able to ask for is some truths. Everything about him is redacted, save for his name, even then that had been hard enough to get, apparently everything about him was on a need to know basis.

The man took a long-heavy drag of his cigarette. “How’s your head?” He asked flatly, his eyes trained forward as he spoke.

His voice might not have been loud, but you’d been in silence for hours, the gravely tone of his voice hammered straight through to your bones. You watched him out the corner of your eye.

“It’s fine” you said, not really wanting to elaborate in case he tried to catch you out.

Ghost hummed “you sure about that?” He queried, tone a little harder.

When you craned your neck to look at him fully this time you found he was already looking at you, his eyes pointedly focused on the tape holding the left side of your forehead together. You didn’t take your eyes away.

“I’m very sure” you reiterated, hoping he’d drop the subject, you had a feeling he wouldn’t.

“And the punctured lung?” You stiffened. How did he know? He pushed himself up from leaning back against the wall and turned his body so he was parallel to you now, his right hip leaning into the brick as his right elbow kept him propped there. He had let go of his cigarette, his lips keeping it secure as he continued to smoke it, blowing smoke out the corner of his mouth.

You gathered your thoughts in your head, thinking of the best response you could give. The man spoke before you could.

“Your silence tells me a lot, sergeant” he huffed, taking ahold of his cigarette once more as he returned to his prior position, mirroring the way you faced forward. You kissed your lips against your teeth.

“I’m fine” you said again, you saw no point in trying to persuade him, he’d clearly already made up his mind.

Ghost made some kind of noise in the back of his throat and you heard him rooting for something in his pocket. You were surprised when a cigarette was held out towards you. You frowned, casting your eyes over to him to find he was still staring forward, mouth devoid of a cigarette and his free hand stuffed into his pocket, he’d clearly smoked it right down to the filter and ditched it.

How could you think you could lie to him? He’d seen first hand the pain you were in, so much pain you couldn’t see straight, blood staining your face as you fought for a singular breath to enter your lungs.

He was testing you now. If you refused the cigarette then he’d assume it was because you were still in pain with your lungs and chest, if you took it then perhaps he would lay off.

You made up your mind, brushing your fingers over his as you took the smoke from his hold. You placed it between your dry lips, you were still in your full gear and you knew you had a lighter somewhere, before you could start your search- Ghost already had you covered. His hand extended out toward your face with the flame dancing and licking at the breeze, you leaned in close and cupped both of your hands around his as it held the lighter, inhaling deeply as the earthy taste of the tobacco hit the back of your throat.

You’d smoked causally and socially throughout your entire army career, surely smoking through one cigarette without as much as a splutter would be easy enough.

Ghost retracted his hand and pocketed his lighter again, watching you smoke from the corner of his eye. You could feel his eyes on you, so you purposefully didn’t look his way, you gazed off into the pitch black, eyes struggling to focus on anything at all.

He stuffed both of his hand into his pockets, enjoying the quiet, listening only to the steady pattering of soft rain against the brick and concrete and the gentle sound of your steady breaths exhaling the smoke.

You weren’t about to admit that he was right, but he was right. The nicotine dried your lungs and the tickle of tobacco at the roof of your mouth and back of your throat had you gagging to cough, mixed with the subtle metallic taste of your own blood that still lingered on your palate. It wasn’t a delightful mix. You decided to distract yourself.

“Anyway, how come you aren’t asleep, Lt?” You asked, genuinely intrigued. The man quirked a brow, or at least, it looked like he did.

“Could ask the same to you” He was right but you asked first. You tutted.

“I’ve been with medical” you countered, thinking you’d caught him out.

“Three hours ago” he gifted flatly. Fuck. You shrugged him off.

“I lost track of time” you took his silence as his answer.

It was obvious that he hadn’t come out here just to smoke, there was something he needed to say, and you wished he would just spit it out. He shifted his stance, like he was in pain, you almost asked if he was okay, but thought better of it. He was more then capable of looking out for himself, when you were out in the field you’d worry and watch his six, back here- you’d leave him to it.

Ghost sighed “it’s been advised that you don’t ship out tomorrow” his words cut through you, his softened tone did nothing to soften the blow. You stiffened, shoulders squaring off as you took a deep inhale of the cigarette.

“On what grounds?” You asked quickly, tone shifting. He noticed.

“Medical” he spoke while looking at you pointedly, you laughed.

“Wow” you shook your head with a disbelieving smile “you take a little bump to the head these days and that gets you grounded?” Your question was entirely rhetorical, your head was the least severe of your injuries.

Ghost shifted his weight, still looking at you, watching as the emotions played out on your face. “listen to me-“ you cut him off.

“No, it’s bullshit” you stated with a scrunched frown creasing your face, still heaving plumes of smoke as you spoke.

“Oi” the lieutenant barked, making you freeze and look at him. “I’ve dismissed it” he said, his calm front falling back into place. Just another mask to add.

Your eyes blew wide. “You- what?” You asked, confused. He sighed, reaching over to pluck the cigarette from between your fingers, bringing it up to his own lips to take a drag.

“I think it’s best we finish what we started- all of us” he said, puffs of smoke escaping his lips between his words. He handed the cigarette back to you as he continued, watching as you brought it to your own lips to continue smoking it. “You handled the crash well” he said “would have had more fatalities if you hadn’t have helped when you did” it was clear that he believed what he was saying, you didn’t take Ghost as someone who minced his words, he said it how it was.

“Thank you” you said, simply, returning your gaze to the dark sky, rain still falling gently.

It took a few seconds for Ghost’s words to settle. You furrowed your brow in thought, offering the cigarette back to him, which he gladly took. A comfortable blanket of silence fell over you, the next few minutes were simply nothing. A void in conversation that wasn’t forced or awkward, it was just- natural. The two of you passed the cigarette between one another wordlessly, Ghost taking the longest and final drag till it was down to the end of the filter before he flicked it away, stomping it out with the heel of his boot. This signalled that it was time to call it a night, or a morning, you didn’t know what time it was. You pushed yourself down from the wall, groaning and cracking your joints as you stretched out, sitting in the cold for this long wouldn’t have done you any good.

Ghost pushed himself up from where he’d been leaning against the brick, now you were standing here, parallel to one another, you could see just how tall he was in comparison to you. Even the width of his shoulders were almost twice that of yours. You were forced to look up to meet his eyes, those cold-dead eyes of his. He tilted his chin down to see you clearer, that usual frown of his under the mask gone, no where to be seen. His expression was soft, almost content. You broke the silence.

“Thank you Lt” you said, watching the fabric over his brow furrow. “For not grounding me” you added. His eyes softened slightly.

“Don’t let me regret it” his voice was gruff, maybe even tired.

Your eyes hadn’t adjusted to the dark, but he was so close you could faintly see the outline of his jaw and lips as he spoke. There was only a scant amount of space between you and him. You didn’t fight the urge to reach up your hand and pinch the mask where it was pushed up against his nose- yanking it down in one swift movement. He let you do it. Didn’t even move to stop you. “Better to keep your anonymity Lt” you said, smiling softly as you moved to walk past him and head toward the steps. He turned his shoulders slowly toward you.

“You know my name” he said flatly, barely amused by your attempt to joke with him.

He was right, you did know his name, but that took the fun out of it.

You sighed “Come on, Riley. Time to get some shut eye, before we get in trouble for being out here” you adopted a horrific Manchester accent as you spoke, whatever drugs that nurse had given you, they were pretty fuckin’ wicked. Ghost clearly didn’t agree, but he also didn’t correct you when you used his surname. That was a feat in itself.

“I’m a lieutenant, what the fuck are they gonna say to me?” he grumbled, mostly to himself, but you had heard him.

You laughed softly, something warm swelling in your chest. Your initial perception of him had been cold and disconnected, he presented himself as a man who existed solely for his role within the military. Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t, you were sure you’d find out. Your exchange with him this evening had showed you that he was observant and truly did value each and every soldier in his platoon. He wasn’t allowing you to be medically grounded because he believed you would be an asset to the continuation of this mission, if that man had any doubt about the severity of your injuries and the chance that you could slow them down- he would have you grounded in a heart beat. He was giving you a chance, and you were determined to show him he was right to trust you and your judgement.

You held onto this feeling as the two of you climbed the stairs, entering the halls of the barracks and parting ways to your respected quarters.

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paleepeaches · 7 months ago

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John Wick Yandere Headcanons

Never done this before so be kind to me! But anyway I just had these thoughts and needed to word vomit them up!

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, ddlg,

A/N: Wouldn't a fic be cute?

Okay so I know I'm not the first to say this and won't be the last but John is a fucking Yandere.

He's a full-blown stalker who probably sees you at a bar or even something so normal as a grocery store.

This man is LONELY af. Since Helen passed he can not find someone else for the life of him.

That's until you come along with your pretty doe eyes and sweet nature.

You can be younger than him and he'll be fine with it. John doesn't mind babysitting a cute bimbo like you

You'll catch his eye with your soft voice and sweet smile. Most people his age have a smoker's voice or are married.

He becomes OBSESSED with you quickly. I mean very swift like within 2 days of seeing you not even talking.

He'll just stalk tf out of you probably at your work. He'll see you bagging groceries or serving drinks and just observe you with customers.

He'll take note of what days you work and don't. He'll mark it on his calendar, and circle it in red like the old man he is.

Once he figures out your schedule and what time you get off, what route you take, if you drive or walk he'll follow you.

He's a skilled hitman so he knows how to disappear and follow someone without them noticing.

He'll stalk you all the way to your apartment and once he's sure you're asleep he'll break in.

He's scoped out your place enough to deduct that you have no pets. Even if you did he'd know how to handle a dog.

John is precise and determined which is why he'd be so keen on placing hidden cameras all over your house.

He'd position them in the living room, kitchen, shower, and even your bedroom.

He'd want to see your most intimate and private moments but not totally invade it.

Of course, you wouldn't find out. Your head is too stuffed in your phone scrolling through social media or online shopping. You got an addiction but it's okay once you're his he'll spoil you! John has a lot of pocket money from all his jobs!

How will he get you?

John doesn't half-ass anything. He's learned to see through tough missions. Even ones he didn't enjoy. Capturing you though...? He would enjoy it.

He'd enjoy setting a date, waiting outside your apartment with his car off.

He'd prepared all the necessary equipment such as ropes, duct tape, and a gun if he needed to threaten you but he'd find that would only scare you more and he didn't want his little girl frightened of him.

He'd go about it more skillfully, more stealthy.

John entered your home after he was sure you entered the deepest REM cycle. He snuck in the window you often left open. Poor forgetful you, always leaving windows unlocked.

One time he found your door unlocked which was a dreadful surprise for him. He locked it right after he watched you sleep for a whole two hours.

See? You needed him to look after you. He'd try to justify his insane actions with that.

With a completely guilt-free head, he'd enter your home, make his way into your bedroom, and see you asleep all cuddled up in your pink plush covers.

You'd look so cute and docile breathing softly.

He'd smile, admiring you before pulling out a clean needled from his jacket pocket. John pricked the needle into a vial of clear liquid, sucking up the fluid before administrating it to you.

Your eyes didn't even flutter open as he injected it.

"Such a good girl." John would speak softly to you, smoothing down your hair and kissing your forehead.

He'd pack your favorite stuffed animal, clothes, and even your cute collections of calico critters or sonny angels, whatever cute trinkets you collected.

He'd want you to feel comfortable at his home. Y'all's home.

#john wick #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #john wick chapter 4 #john wick x oc #john wick smut #john wick fluff #keanu reeves #keanuverse

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sstormyskyess · 1 year ago

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Tender Love and Care

author's note: aftercare is probably one of the cutest things in the world so i had to match up some classic types of aftercare with the boys

cw: fluff, implied off-screen sex, massages, cuddling, shared baths/showers

word count: 1200+

TF-141 x GN!Reader

Simon “Ghost” Riley [massages]

♡ Ghost is not a very handsy man and never has been; he keeps to himself 90% of the time and even with you the physical contact you share is minimal. It doesn’t bother you, of course, since it’s simply a part of the way he operates.

♡ However, after coming down from the sweet high that you brought each other to, he needs to be close to you. He gets so swept up in the pleasure that he needs something to ground him and having his hands all over you is the perfect solution.

Simon frowns at the quiet groan you let out while his hands massage your stomach, soothing the muscles underneath. “I didn’t go too hard, did I love?” You smile at his concern and hold his wrists, giving them a squeeze. “It’s okay, Si, just a little sore.” You assure him. He hums, still worried but trusting your words regardless.

You sigh happily as you feel Simon’s hands rubbing languid circles into the skin of your thighs, soothing over the bruises he left there unintentionally. His thumbs slowly move down to your calf and bring your ankle up to his lips, kissing it softly. A shiver goes up your spine at the way he stared you down, his eyes trailing down your body with adoration in his eyes.

He places your leg down gently, shifting his attention to your wrists, the anchor he used to hold you in place earlier. Carefully, he pulls you up by your arms and has you sit chest to chest, eyes locked onto your hands, massaging your palms with his thumbs. You watch him kiss each of your knuckles and whisper a quiet, “I love you.”

John “Soap” Mactavish [cuddling]

♡ This man. This man. Soap is absolutely addicted to cuddling, whether he’s the big spoon or small spoon, face-to-face with you, or laying on top of you and vice versa. It doesn’t matter how, he just needs to kiss your skin: cheeks, hands, chest—anything. He also loves it when you kiss the marks you made on each other, reminding him exactly where you paid the most attention to each other.

♡ He whispers sweet nothings to you and tells you how much fun he had and how good you felt and how good you were for him.

After wiping the both of you down with the cold, damp washcloth you’d put on the bedside table, Johnny has you cocooned in your favorite fluffy blanket, holding you close. He tucks your head under his chin and lets you play with the hair on his chest, a quiet chuckle leaving his lips when your fingers start to tickle him a bit. He holds you tight, hands around the small of your back and the back of your head.

You hum and start to wiggle out of his hold. “I gotta go pee really quick,” you mumble into the skin of his neck. A grumble fills his chest when you start moving away, his grip tightening. “Johnny, let go…” You whine, struggling in his hold. He frowns and shuffles to lay on top of you, pushing the air out of your chest with a little ‘oof.’

You worm your arms out from under him and try to pull him off, tugging on his shirt. “Get off!” You squeak, but all you get in return is even more pounds laying on your chest. He laughs and starts covering your face in kisses, a wordless attempt at keeping you right where you were. “Nope, you’re staying right here, dove.” He nuzzles his face against your shoulder.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick [snacks/water]

♡ Often, Gaz has already gotten something for you both to drink and snack on while you’re laid up next to each other, watching whatever’s on the TV sitting on your dresser. He knows how much your evening activities can wear you out, so he always wants to replenish your energy before heading to bed.

♡ If he hasn’t prepared anything, he’ll pick you up and carry you to the kitchen with him to keep you close, not wanting to part with you for even a second. He’ll have you wrapped up in a blanket and sitting on the counter while he fills up a bottle with water and cuts up some fruit for the two of you to share.

Kyle’s eyes widen when you grab one of the grapes in his fruit bowl. “Hey!” He pouts while you giggle quietly, a smile on your face. Popping it into your mouth, you look up at Kyle who had his handsome face locked on you with stars in his eyes. You can’t help but bashfully laugh and look away, your cheeks warming under his adoring gaze.

His hand rested under the baggy t-shirt you’d stolen from him, fingers wrapped around your bare hip. You frown when a breath of cold air slips into the blankets when he reaches to the bedside table for his water bottle. “Kyle, come back…” You whine, tightening your hold on him. He laughs and comes back with the bottle, handing it to you before readjusting the blankets. “Drink up, baby.”

You cuddle up closer to him and open it up to take a few gulps of water before handing it back to him. It ends up haphazardly dropped onto the bed sheets when Kyle tosses it aside and leans down to kiss you on the head, on the cheeks, and all over your face. You start to giggle, trying to push him off; then, when you do, you see Kyle with his hand in your bowl of fruit, stealing a grape of his own, much to your dismay.

John Price [showers/baths]

♡ Sex with John can get fairly filthy; he loves making a mess of you and it often ends up with both of you covered in more than just sweat, so cleaning you up is a first priority once you’re done. He’ll wash you ever so gently and clean off anything that tainted your skin over the time you spent under the sheets.

♡ He’s invested in a variety of things to put in the bath, ranging from oils to bath bombs and salts, all in your favorite scents. He loves the feeling of your soft skin after being pampered, running his palms all over you just to feel it.

The bath bomb at the end of the bath has almost fizzled out by now, the bathwater now a light pink. John hovers over you and stares down at your relaxed face, eyes shut with a tiny smile perking up your lips. He chuckles when you press your head into his hands as he caresses you, his nails scrubbing along your scalp gently. You take a deep breath of the lavender oil coating his fingers and exhale, the steam from the bath shifting with your breath.

His hands dipped under the water and ran up your thighs, his fingers gliding across your skin smoothly. “You feel lovely, darling.” His lips brush along your shoulder as he speaks. You smile wide, letting him kiss up your shoulder and neck, all the way to your cheek.

You wiggle a bit when he gets a nice handful of your thighs and squeezes, a small laugh leaving you. You retaliate by reaching back and pinching him on the cheek. He joins in with his own laughter, pulling you closer to him and running his nails up and down your sides, tickling you. You squeal, trying to pull his hands away. “John, the water’s gonna spill out—!”

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

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therainscene · 6 months ago

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Stranger Things 4 is themed around A Nightmare on Elm Street -- Vecna is a child-killer-turned-demon who murders teenagers from within their own minds; his heavily scarred skin and clawed hand resemble that of Freddy Krueger; and the actor who played Freddy himself plays his father.

I think Stranger Things 5 is gearing up to do something similar with The Terminator. Linda Hamilton (Sarah Connor) is the upcoming guest star this season; Vecna's exposed skull and vine-covered neck resembles the T-800--

--and Will's speech at the end of S4 bears striking similarities to Kyle Reece's famous "it can't be reasoned with" speech.

If Vecna is the T-800... then the Mind Flayer is the perfect candidate for Skynet.

[And Hawkins National Laboratory is Cyberdyne Systems -- a military-funded lab that meddled with phenomena beyond its ability to control and paved the way for a sinister hive mind to enter the world.]

I'm pretty sure that the Mind Flayer lies at the heart of whatever timey-wimey stuff is going on. It's suspiciously linked to timeline inconsistencies -- Will is already able to sense it in his neck before his possession in S2, and young Henry in TFS is haunted by the spider monster he wasn't supposed to create for another 20 years.

I've already written a theory on how a causal loop could tie Will and Henry to the Mind Flayer -- whatever's going on is probably more complicated than this, since my theory doesn't explain why the Upside Down is frozen -- but it's worth a read, I think, as it's the same type of time paradox as the one in Terminator and could easily be at the core of ST's time shenanigans.

Will is Kyle Reece or Sarah Connor -- so does that mean he's going to be a gun-toting badass?

No.

This scene is Will coming full circle from that moment in the shed at the start of S1: backed into a corner and forced to resort to violence because he sees no other way out. He doesn't want to kill the monster; he has to.

But the difference is that he's not cornered anymore.

This time around, Will knows his enemy, and he has supportive friends and family at his side. He's just so beaten down -- by Vecna, by Hawkins, by perceived rejections from Mike -- that he's lost all confidence in his ability to stand up for himself on his own terms.

I know it seems at first glance that Will advocates the use of violence in desperate times, but consider the context of the episode in which the above scene appears:

Joyce is reminiscing about her missing son while dealing with Lonnie telling her what to do and feel about it. Shortly after, she realizes how manipulative he's being and permanently kicks him out of her life (and the show lol) -- no violence necessary.

Will's advice hadn't been about the value of violence, but about the value of refusing to play by abusers' rules -- a key lesson in Stranger Things, as we've been watching El learn it the hard way over the course of four seasons.

Will cannot self-actualize by "finally" pulling the trigger on an approach that symbolizes his homophobic father's macho expectations. S5 is going to be about him regaining his self-confidence and allowing his authentic, gentle nature to guide him to the real solution.

So, to return to the "he's not gonna stop" speech: the theme at play here is inevitability, and it's one of the central themes of The Terminator -- not simply because the titular assassin is unstoppable, but because of the love story that drives the plot:

If Skynet hadn't sent the T-800 back in time to kill Sarah Connor before she could give birth to the leader of the human resistance, then Kyle would have had no reason to go back in time and end up unknowingly fathering John. No matter how hard Skynet tried to snuff John Connor out of existence, the rebellious love that created him was just as inevitable as the T-800.

This, I think, is the message at the heart of both Terminator and Stranger Things, and is the reason why The Terminator would be the perfect choice for S5's theme movie:

Sometimes the horrors wrought by humanity are inescapable...

...but so too is the hopeful human drive to love each other and overcome them.

Read Brenner's role in creating Vecna as a metaphor for homophobic Reagan-era fear-mongering and it all clicks into place, I think.

#terminator #stranger things #time travel #byler #will byers #henry creel #mind flayer #my analysis #tfs spoilers

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s0apmactav1sh · 8 months ago

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Minors, fem alinged do not interact with this blog you will be blocked!!

Taskforce 141. A tight knit group made up of monsters. Soldiers who were on a whole other level to the rest all because they were supernatural. Price, the captain of the TF and a dragon hybrid. His boys were apart of his hoard, the things he found irreplaceable and precious. Even with one wing enemies trembled at the sight of such a large man coming towards them. Ghost, the lieutenant and a wraith. What could be said about him, with shadows at his mercy and the darkness being apart of him there wasnt a way to kill a man who was already dead. Soap, sergeant number one and a werewolf. All hell breaks loose when hes able to transform, the team being his pack so he does whats needed to protect them. And lastly, Gaz, the harpy hybrid. The taskforces eyes in the sky. A bird of prey as other soldiers call him.

Thats all the infromation you had been given when you were first introduced to Kate Laswell. You had been handed files but most of the information on them had been classified and blacked out. Laswell had mentioned breifly how she had to practically seek you out, going to people she assumed would have an idea on where you would be. However no one could tell her what you were or where you were mostly because you kept on the down low and only popped up on the map during certain times. How she had caught you while you were in a bar in blackpool was a question you held back from asking.

"Whats in it for me?" Your voice was gruff, not in the way johns was from his years of smoking and barking orders, but in a softer way like you werent expecting to have to talk tonight. Help always came with a price. Yours especially, since you'd be working with monsters you were unfamiliar with. It wasnt like you were different persay but mixing your type of monster with theres didnt seem like the greatest idea in your mind but with Kates promise of a large sum of money and the few pints she bought you it was enough for you to agree to work alongside the taskforce for a few weeks until you were no long needed and could slip back into whatever hell you came from.

A Nightcrawler, a monster so unheard of they practically didnt exsit anymore. A creatures that lurked in the darkness where it could lure its victims into it and get rid of them, feasting on them after. Price had to put down your file the minute he read what type of monster you were, everyone knew that trusted one of you would end with death. The shiver that crept down his spine had him removing himself from his desk and leaving his office going directly to the resting room he knew his boys would be in. If he was going to accept kate purposal of accepting you into the taskforce, even if it was for a few weeks, he needed them to voice there opinions first.

"No. Not a chance" Was the first answer he got from ghost once it was finally brought up. Soap was to busy tryna keep his tail still so Gaz could brush out the muck and dirt he had in it from the missions they had been on. "We'd never be able to trust something like it." Ghost was set on declining having another person invade his space. He had enough trying to deal with a werewolf a harpy and a dragon, thrusting a nightcrawler into the mist would cause chaos.

"Its not a good idea, nightcrawlers have a tendancy to go rouge and attack everything within range" was the next response price got from gaz this time, the harpy also turning down the idea of having a nightcrawler join them. Although he voiced his reason as to his decline a lot more clearly than the wraith did. Still Price was hoping atleast Johnny may say something positive so he doesnt look like an asshole for not listening to them even though Kate had went through the pain of trying to get you to come and help them. But with prices luck so far with getting his boys to agree to allow you onto the team there was little hope that johnny would agree.

"Are you mad? A nightcrawler on our team. Ain't no way thats happenin" like he expected he was instantly turned down by the werewolf. Now explaining to Laswell that none of them wanted you on the team because you were a nightcrawler would be the difficult part since the woman was so persistant on getting them another to work with them. Dialing her number once in his office, all price could do is hope she hadnt gotten a chance to even figure out were you were.

The sound of kates phone ringing knocked you out of your small buzz as you picked it up and handed it to her turning away and getting another drink for yourself in hopes of drinking yourself to sleep once more before you set off to this taskforce. The sound of irritation soon hit your ears as kate tried getting whoever was on the other end of the phone to agree and take you in even if was just for one mission. Clenching your jaw you reached over and took the phone listen to the sound of the voice coming through.

"Kate there isnt a thing I can do to get the lads to let him join. They dont want a nightcrawler on the taskforce I cant force them."

A small scoff leaves you before you hang up the phone and pass it back to kate. "Thought they were on board with me joining."

JDBSJSVDUDBDV i have struggled i mean struggled to finish this. I honestly hate it with a burning passion and I have half a mind to delete it all and start over but here is part 1 of a fic im not even sure Ill finish.

#call of duty #fjords rambles #male reader #the things i do instead of sleeping #monster 141 au #dom male character

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nrdmssgs · 1 year ago

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TF 141 + Nikolai taking you home from hospital after minor injury

Masterlist

Fluff, comfort and romance.

Kyle Gaz Garrick

First of all, you are getting a plushie. Even if you are older than him, and that mature, grown up, always very serious type, you are getting a plushie!

The moment he enters your room - the whole space becomes illuminated with his happiest, bright smile. Because Kyle is your personal portable sunshine.

Prior to picking you up, Gaz spent a few hours, coming up with a nice joke, to immediately make you laugh, when he meets you. Might even have tested it on Soap to make sure, it works just as he wants it too.

Overall princess treatment. He has your comfort playlist + movie + treats ready at home. He wants you to forget about time spent in the hospital as soon as possible.

If you convince him, you are not in pain, and he can't hurt you - you won't see the end of that favorite movie of yours.

Johnny Soap MacTavish

As soon, as he helps you sit comfortable in his car - you are inundated with news about everything: from world politics to the latest stories from the life of Johnny’s family.

Talks more than usual, because he was worried sick all the time, that you spent in a hospital. Even if Johnny knew, it was nothing serious, he still hates it, when you are far from him, and he is left to wait, till they let you out.

Asks you if he should stop talking and let you rest in silence, but cant keep quiet for more than ten minutes. (you don't mind though, since you missed his voice so much)

Carries you from the car to the house. Accepts no objections.

"Johnny? You know, I'm fine and can walk on my own?" "Aye. Still a little help won't hurt?" "You'll make up any excuse just to carry me around, won't you?" "... weesht."

Captain John Price

Giving care and attention is in his very nature, so buckle up. When he enters to pick you up - he already has a full list of meds, that you'll need to fully heal.

You can feel, how tense he is, when Price approaches you. "Hey, lovely, docs say, you're doing well here, yeah?" He gives you a big warm hug, but you feel, how unusually careful he is.

John hates seeing you hurt. Mentally, he takes responsibility for everything bad, that happens to you. He should have been there, should have prevented whatever caused your injury, should have, should have, should have...

So he makes it his №1 priority to make sure you heal fast and easy. Price may forget to eat, to sleep, but he never forgets to remind you to take your meds, or go for a little walk, or have a glass of water.

Many forehead kisses. To make you feel better, to lull you to sleep, to feel you close to him finally.

Simon Ghost Riley

Pretends, It's nothing special, and he definitely hasn't been waiting for a minute, he can at last take you home. Is very calm and collected with medical personnel, but makes sure to thank every single person, who helped you.

Doesn't show any signs of extra care. But when you sit in his car, you feel something unusually soft under your back.

"Sim- Ehm, this looks, like my blanket." "It is. Your favorite one." "You brought my best blanket, just to make me cozy on our way home? That's actually sweet."

Will deny it so hard, but actually he did want to make you feel safe and cozy.

Back at home, he will sit you on a couch, sit on the floor before you and study your features in a dead silence. He needs to know if anything still bothers you, but Ghost can be sure only if he sees the answer in your eyes and in your posture.

Will trace invisible lines on your skin, not daring to lean closer and kiss it. Simon will make sure, you are alright before going any further with his touch.

Nikolai

"Nu privet, tridtzat` tri neshyastia.*" While kneeling down to meet your eye level.

He will not limit himself to a simple “how are you?”. Nikolai must know all the details. Does it hurt when you walk? And when he presses here, doesn’t it hurt? And now? Are you absolutely sure?

Won't listen to you, even if you swear, you already have all the necessary medical prescriptions on hands. He must find your doctor and talk to him personally.

When he is calmed down and convinced, that you are going to be fine - Nikolai finally takes you home.

Makes sure, you're cozy and comfortable on your first night home (ideally in his hands, so that he can wake up any minute and help you if it hurts).

Will try to hide the fact behind a thousand jokes, but he missed you so much. Don't mind him hugging you to sleep and pressing your body against his so strongly, taking in the feeling of you in his hands.

*Nu privet, 33 neshyastia - well hello 33 misfortunes

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ivymarquis · 10 months ago

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I saw that post that @ceilidho shared of Barry looking all “tf are you doing out of bed” and then I had to write this down for John. Sidebar the title of this in my google docs is “John decides he’s keeping his ONS”

Get Back Here

Pairing| John Price x Reader Rating| T Word Count| 863 Content/Warnings| This is post coital with them having fucked like rabbits but everything is above board. This theoretically would be such a nice jump off spot for a darker twist BUT my heart is still mostly fluffy for the cod boys. I am working on something a lil unhinged with Price tho.

While this piece is rated T, I am an MDNI blog. Minors + ageless blogs will be blocked.

If she has any sense in her head, she’ll slip out from the sheets while he’s snoring beside her, get dressed and fuck off back home.

Of course, how much sense she has at the moment is debatable at best because he went and fucked her brains right out of her skull.

Forget pipe- The man laid infrastructure earlier and it’s already screwing with her head. Making her really have to try and talk herself out of the urge to see where things go. The only thing she needs to see is where the fuck her drawers went. Getting dickmatized is a real struggle and while she doesn’t often go out, she lets the soldier sweet talk her on the expectation that there would be a fair degree of “get in, get done, get out”.

Post nut clarity is nowhere to be seen on his end, as he’d tucked her into the spot next to him with the promise of breakfast in the morning. A well deserved reward on her end for all her hard work.

Maybe her brain just likes to torture her but she starts to think that she’s just not meant for casual hook ups like this. He is kind and respectful and a phenomenal lay and her brain is already trying to twist this to justify finding a way to wrangle down another night with him. She just needs to rip this bandaid off and go.

Chalk this up as go-to spank bank fodder the next time she’s lonely.

It’s easier this way, she tells herself as she peels back the bedding he’d cocooned her in.

Less humiliating this way, to sneak away in the night as the cold bites at her as she gathers her clothes. All the while he’s snoring up a storm, assuring her that he’s still out of it and unaware of her escape attempt that is delayed by not being able to find her damn bra.

There’s a small part of her that somewhat feels bad for planning to sneak out in the middle of the night, but there’s a larger part of her that doesn’t want to hear whatever is his go to prompt when it’s time to kick his partner out of bed and back to the rest of the world.

She fixates on locating her wayward bra to the point she doesn’t notice the lack of white noise as he -John- stirs at the loss of her. She doesn’t see the way he gropes blindly at the space she was occupying not five minutes ago, nor the way his expression screws down into a scowl as realization sinks in when he fully awakens.

She does hear his huffed “The fuck are you doing?”, lacking any bite to it despite the phrasing. What she’s doing is fairly obvious given how her clothes are gathered in her arms as opposed to rifling through something she shouldn’t.

“I, um,” she blinks stupidly. He’s a gorgeous man, just enough moonlight filtering through the window so she can see him even in the dark. “I’m getting dressed,” finally her brain clicks into place.

His eyes are squinting at her as he blinks back sleep, shuffling partly up to get a better look at her, the blanket pooling at his waist. Christ her knees are already weak just looking at him again. “None of that,” he dismisses firmly, “it’s too cold, love. Come back to bed. Promised you breakfast in the morning anyway.”

She has a decision to make, she realizes- if she’s adamant about leaving it’s not like he’s going to keep her hostage. He has to let her leave.

But, her thoughts trail off, it is fucking cold. And that bed is incredibly warm. And she still doesn’t know where the fuck her bra is.

“Come on then, back you get.” He prompts with a pat to the spot she’d previously occupied, and that’s enough to make her fold (she can’t deny that she’s been lookin for a reason to fold all night, even if a part of her knows this is a bad, bad, bad idea). Setting her clothes back in a neat pile rather than them being strung all over the floor-still sans bra-, she returns to the bed and slides back under the covers he’s lifted for her.

Immediately his arm bands across her torso, pulling her in snug against him. Well, there’s certainly no sneaking away now. After a bit of shuffling as they settle in against each other, John ensuring there will be no more half hearted attempts to flee.

He doesn’t snore-likely keeping an eye on her to ensure she’s not going to run again- until she’s securely in that half-awake-half-asleep limbo. It’s incredibly easy to slip into. The room is cold, he is warm and the bed is so incredibly cozy. The math is very simple and the end result is her dozing in the arms of a man she can very stupidly see herself getting attached to- even if he snores like a bear.

Come morning, John makes good on his promise for breakfast.

She doesn’t end up needing to find her bra until two days later.

#my writing #john price x reader #john price x you #john price x y/n #cod mwii #john price

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nanamissuit · 9 months ago

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I saw an insta reel and came running straight to your ask box.

Fem reader who's a popular marathon athlete, loves running in the morning like at 3 or 4 AM before the whole world wakes up.

Ghost being the dutiful husband he is, wakes up with her, even though he does not like running that much but being overprotective he found a way to remedy that. He drives along in his truck, drinking his tea from the tumbler the missus gifted him, while his sweet wife runs on the curb.

He's protective like that and we love ourselves a protective man. 😍😍😍😍

P.S what would the rest of TF!141 boys do with their wife who likes to run in the butt crack of dawn as well.

Soap would most definitely hate waking up. 😂 😂

It's WAY To Early - TF141

A/N: I WAS WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO REQUEST THIS OMG IM SO EXCITED!!! Pairing: TF141 x Fem!Runner Reader

Warnings: None, Fluff, Mentions of kidnapping (THEY DID NOT KIDNAP YOU.)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley:

When Simon started dating you he knew about all the marathons and morning runs.

And at first he didn’t even worry, it was 5 A.M. Who the hell would wanna kidnap anyone at the ass crack of dawn?

WRONG. He read news articles even though they were states away. He was still worried, so he started waking up at 4:50 and warmed up his truck and made himself coffee in the tumbler you gave him.

“Simon..? What are you doing?” “You’re going on your morning run and I’m trying to see you later today, so I’m coming with you.”

You just smiled to yourself and got into your running attire, and he got into his truck and followed slowly next to you.

And if you decide to record a little video and post it? He would feel so kind enough to even throw a little “👍”

The comments would go crazy over this, and he finds it hilarious.

He definitely dislikes waking up so early, but he’d do anything to keep you safe so he doesn’t entirely hate it.

John Price:

He knew about the marathons, maybe not so much the morning runs because you were so quiet as to not wake him.

But once he finds out? He’s waking up 30 minutes before you do, making coffee and finding that tumbler you gave him as he prepares your water bottle and heats up his car.

“Price? Why are you-?” “I would rather die than find out some strange man had his hands on you. I’m just gonna make sure you're safe.”

And with that being said you changed into your running attire and he kept his pajamas on and got in his truck as he watched you run.

If you recorded a video he’s pulling a “😁👍” Because he feels like a proud boyfriend/husband.

Comments would definitely find this adorable, and he just smiles about it.

And no he doesn’t even dislike waking up, he loves it. He’s keeping you safe and he’s used to waking up early.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick:

He knew about the morning runs,marathons,training,gym…Whatever you did he knew about.

He actually was already doing this from when you started dating not even a couple months in.

“Kyle, why do you wake up to do this every morning?” “I would send as many men I needed to come find you if you ever went missing sweetheart, don’t get me wrong but I just wanna make sure I never have to do that.”

Your heart melted as you watched him make himself coffee and he handed you your water bottle and a little snack like little muffins or something.

He got into his truck and followed you as he sipped his coffee from the tumbler you got him. You took a video and he just “😉” directly at the camera and you rolled your eyes.

Comments would ask something like “Is your husband single?” and he’d giggle about it.

Definitely wakes up 2 hours earlier so he can make sure everything is perfect before you wake up. He loves it and wouldn’t change it for the world.

John 'Soap' Mactavish:

Like Kyle, he knew everything and he did NOT wanna wake up at all.

Way too early for him, plus he thought you knew how to handle yourself he gave you pepper spray for a reason.

But then he, like Simon, saw news articles from states away and started to worry.

So he started waking up at the ass crack of dawn 20 minutes before you as he tiredly made himself coffee in the tumbler you gave him and just put out your water bottle for you and hopped in his truck.

When you were done getting ready you met him by his truck window and smiled a bit at how tired he looked.

“Babe you look exhausted.” “I am lass but I’d rather you come home than never come home ever again, now go on.”

You giggled to yourself and started to run as he followed, taking sips of his coffee and making sure to watch the road and you.

If you took a video he’d go “😑” and just take a sip of coffee.

The comments definitely made fun of him a bit for being so damn tired but can you blame him? You wake up way too early to be RUNNING.

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kalechipswithasideofkale · 5 months ago

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my adrenaline has gone down finally so i feel i can give my thoughts on this season

no more faks! no more! please!

i think the series is taking inspiration from different art movements and genres. season one - surrealism?, season two - modernism?, season three - baroque? im not well versed on this stuff but i definitely noticed they use different forms of art to make the seasons feel different from one another

piggybacking off the earlier bulletin; i think thats also why this season feels like all flash and no substance. whatever movement or era they decided to do with season three is very ou la la oui oui i zam an artist bonjour /nm its very different from the movements they went with in the past seasons. this one feels serious and fancy smancy

i still think they’re going to go through with sydcarmy and this season just solidifies it. syd and carmy are severly mentally ill with issues they need to work out. they dont handle stress and expectations well if at all.

i think some of the things being said by the characters are being taken at face value specifically carmy calling claire peace. i dont think the writers are writing claire to be a source of peace for carmy; hes just so in denial and confused about his emotions he knows he supposed to feel peace from claire but cant figure out why he doesnt

i missed marcus sweeps and tina in this season so much. and syd! i was excited for sweeps to go to wine school only for it to be a one off thing. the tina episode was good but thats the only thing i can think of from the top of my head that she stood out in. marcus’ mom died? but it feels like she didnt die at all? like the weight of his moms death isnt being felt in his character and that made me really sad. i wanted a little more with syd and marcus with their moms :/

im not angry at carmy somehow? i just feel this deep sadness because he is so unlike himself. my initial frustrations with the season made it hard for me to look at his character. now that ive calmed down, he just makes me sad. like thinking about him makes me feel like a wet sausage dude he needs serious help and im scared he’s gonna do something very bad in this next season/part

i was really hoping there would be more parallels between new york carmy and current syd. they might explore it in season 4 and i really hope they do!

where tf was everyone else in the emergency room and why was it the two faks. there is no dissection in the world that will make me okay with those losers being there im sawry

syd being the first person sugar called and claire being the last mhm yup 🙂‍↕️

a good chunk of claire and carmys scenes being muted or cool colors once again!

RICHIE AND HIS DAUGHTER AA!! i wish they had an entire episode dedicated to them theyre so cute!

theres something to be said about loneliness and isolation this season? again i would need to rewatch the season. something something carmy pushing syd away something something nat fearing giving birth because of her mom something something syd having a breakdown and isolating herself from the rest of the fam something something

pete ❤️

chris you have reached ur limit on white male characters enough is enough theres NO MORE ROOM

ngl i actually liked seeing john cena on my screen yall pls

why are we so close to everyones face i zont like zat at all

i thought they were going to bring louis back and got so excited!!! BRING BACK LOUIS

they wrap up the claire storyline by season 4 or part three?? whatever theyre doing idk

LUCA!!!!!!

as much one sided beef i have with jlc she delivered i crode very hard

backseating the characters of color is very lame and bogus! i hated it! what happened to tinas friends she met at school? does ebra not have family? syd and her dad? marcus and his roommate? so many characters they could introduce from sydney marcus tina ebra fuck even angel and manny but they insist on introducing characters that have ties to the berzattos. i hate it! i really do!

syds apartment? where did you go fren….

i wish they were more artsy fartsy with carmys internal struggles give me cringe film student vibes please ill take anything

FUCK CICERO he didnt do anything but PISS ME OFF >:(

why didnt they have syd work out the economics (or whatever tf that computer dude did do). didnt she do something like that in season one? i guess since cicero called him it makes sense

richie and nat are so adorable i love them!!!!

overall pretty mediocre season. it was okay for a show like the bear. i don’t agree with having an entire season dedicated to build up! or atleast in the way they’ve done it in season 3. season 1 was a prologue for the entire show yet it still felt like a complete season. alot of the things that went down in season three either could’ve been compressed into a shorter span of time or they could’ve gotten more episodes (as if its that easy lol but the pacing wouldn’t have suffered as much if the season was longer). um decent season? i dont hate it! i dont love it either. like i said it feels soulless and maybe thats the intention? idk man 😔

i will most definitely be seated for season four TRUST

#the bear spoilers #sydcarmy #carmy berzatto #sydney adamu #tina marrero #gary sweeps #marcus brooks #luca the bear #richie jerimovich #i am calm #i think #that was a season!#there was some good #there was some not so good #the bear fx #how did i forget to tag the literal show #ebra the bear

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bugboybuck · 3 months ago

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tommy's favorite romcom is obviously whatever tf is going on between john boyega's and oscar isaac's characters in star wars lmaooo

okay listen i have Not seen star wars but on secondhand knowledge and vibes ALONE i 100% agree with this. we know he loves star wars, and things like fight club so i truly believe he'd like kind of action-y, manly dude movies with queer vibes lmaooo

#bucktommy #tommy kinard #asks

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johnslittlespoon · 6 months ago

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hi sorry i can't stop thinking about your leaving!bikeriders au aaaaaa

big tough intimidating gale and his sweet little puppy boyfriend is just *chefs kiss*

but also just the potential for the future of these two is driving me crazy

john's always been a little smaller than gale, or just the fact that he's so pretty thin and lanky makes him seem smaller in comparison

but the years go by and suddenly he's got a couple inches on gale and he's beefy as all hell

gales loves it

gale gushing to his biker buddies about his baby bucky and then this brick wall of a man walks up and theyre all like holy shit

and bucky never loses his puppy tendancies, he just kinda becomes like a big dog that doesn't know his size, draping himself all over gale and almost crushing him in the process

and also gale with a little white in his beard im going insane

au post | STOP IT THIS MADE ME SO <33 i loooove this (also it won't let me add a 'read more' without messing up the images so forgive this wall of text lol)

just the thought of them growing so close and their lives intertwining over the years, sorting through their issues, getting over every hurdle and going through so much together. gale in a suit bringing flowers to john's college graduation, john getting a part time job despite gale's protests because he wants to help out but also so they can take a celebratory vacation together when he finishes his exams :((

they meet when john looks like this sweet little thing in his second year of college, early 20s, shy and still growing into gangly limbs:

and then suddenly a couple years have passed and he's graduating and he looks like this twunky frat boy (gale realizes somewhere in the first few months of living together that john's vision is absolute dogshit and john's just been writing it off as a lack of focus lmfao so he forces him to an eye doctor):

and part of gale feels a little bit sad when john doesn't have to tilt his chin up to kiss him properly anymore because yk it's like watching a puppy grow up lol but mostly he's just. insane. about his boy. he's in love with his brain, and getting to see him grow confidence and become at peace with himself over the years only makes him more infatuated (and he'll be damned if he doesn't go a little crazy at the feeling of muscular thighs beneath his hands when he's got john pinned down) <3

gale's friends going a good chunk of time without seeing john during his last year of college because john's so busy juggling part time and cramming for his final exams, and when he finally does show up at the pub or biker club or whatever just before summer, there's jokes about "what the hell have you been feeding him, buck?" because that is not the lanky awkward pretty boy that had been hanging off of gale's arm the summer before. although john's absolutely still the same personality–wise, still crawling into gale's lap whenever he can, making gale carry him to bed, loving to sit on the floor by the couch between gale's legs so gale has to lean down to kiss him. :')

maybe john gets an internship after graduating and ends up working part time at the mechanic shop instead of his old part time since gale can give him whatever hours he needs to balance the internship and income (i'm pretty sure that's what i'll have gale's job be, running a car and bike shop, because yk it just checks out). john does a lot of heavy lifting and physical activity working there and bulks tf up and it makes him feel so much more confident in himself and gale would lose his mind at the way john's work shirts stretch across his broad shoulders hsdgdskhj !?!

and oh my god yes salt and pepper beard gale. john would go fucking feral over him, catching himself staring all the time, as if he doesn't already do that enough. they both become more and more attracted to each other as time goes on, like they keep waiting for the 'honeymoon' phase to end but it just doesn't, even through whatever conflicts and fights they go through, even once they fall into routine and domesticity– they're just as crazy about each other sigh.

thx. these two are gonna live rent free in my head forever. i love them so much and i haven't even written them yet fml. ALSO THANK U FOR UR OTHER ASK WITH ALL THE BIKER INFO!!! i will absolutely msg u if i have questions ur a life saverrrr omg. i screenshot and saved that ask to my drafting doc bc god knows i'm gonna need it SJKDJG ur awesome <33

#leaving bikeriders au #buckbucky #johnslittlespoon brainrot #johnslittlespoon asks #just wait till i draw art for this au i'm gonna end myself #making myself wait until the dog fic is done and this one is actually started but #it'll happen eventually

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southernbluebellereader · 2 years ago

Text

Forbidden

Captain John Price x MILF Single Mom Reader (COD MW(2))

Warning: Fluff, Innuendos, Brief mention of violence

Summary: Some instances of what the members of TF 141 thinks of Mrs. Price, including Mr. Price himself.

A/N: I've always wanted to write something like this, and I'm glad that I did. I definitely will write a part 2 at some point.

Word Count: ~2,137 words

Master List (tag list at the bottom)

“Simon? Oh, is it ok if I call you Simon? Are you sure you’re going to be ok on the couch?” Y/N handed Simon two pillows and a blanket.

“Simon’s fine, Mrs. Price. The couch is fine, you’ve already spoiled me enough by letting me stay here.”

“Oh please, call me Y/N! You and the other boys are always welcome here! And there’s no reason for you to travel home at this hour, sweetheart.” She smiled up at him, earning a small smile from him. Sweetheart. He silently thanked whatever god was in heaven that she turned around before seeing him turn into mush.

“Now you get settled, I’ll make some tea.” Simon watched as the woman shuffled into the kitchen, to put a kettle of water on the stove. He heard his Captain and Bobby, Y/N’s son, come down the stairs, chuckling at each other as they headed into the kitchen. It was almost weird to see - but oddly nice. His Captain deserved domesticity, and Simon was content with seeing glimpses of it. Price briefly met Simon’s eyes, almost cautioning him.

Simon knew that Bobby was around the same age as Johnny and Kyle. But the Captain wasn’t much older than himself. He didn’t want to be rude and ask - he knew better than to ask a woman - let alone Mrs. Price - for her age. But he knew she was older. Shaking his head, he placed the blanket and pillows on the couch he’d be sleeping on, then heard his name.

“You coming for tea, Simon?” Y/N stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, adjusting her floor-length night robe so that it covered more of her body. His eyes flickered slightly to admire the way it clung to her body. He felt wrong for thinking she was beautiful - he felt guilty - she was his Captain’s wife; but he could almost care less if she was older than him, older than Price, or that she had an adult child the same age as Soap.

—

Y/N opened the door and smiled at Johnny and Bobby, “Hi boys, you’re back early! Did you have fun at the game?” Both of them stepped inside the house, Bobby leaning down to kiss his mother’s cheek and hug her, and Johnny awkwardly giving her a hug, relishing the brief smell of her sweet perfume.

“Yeah, it was great, Mum!” Bobby looked back at Johnny as he shed his shoes and jacket, “Thanks for inviting me, Johnny.”

“Eh, no need! But I better get going,” Johnny smiled at Bobby and gave Y/N a nod.

“What? So early? Come and stay a while, sweetheart, I’m making dinner!”

Sweetheart. It was music to Johnny’s ears.

Price came out of nowhere, a folded newspaper in hand, “Hey, boys! Welcome back. How was the game?” Price’s voice made Johnny’s attention switch from Y/N’s to his Captain’s. He wasn’t sure if his Captain could tell that he found his wife exceptionally beautiful - always have.

“It was great! Liverpool won,” Bobby chuckled.

Price walked up to Y/N and wrapped an arm around her waist, then looked over at Johnny, “C’mon, stay for dinner! Unless you’ve got somewhere else to be?”

Slightly embarrassed about being put on the spot, the Scotsman nodded in agreeance, “No, I’ll stay. Wouldn’t miss an opportunity to have dinner made by Mrs. Price.” Quickly shedding his shoes and coat, he followed Bobby into the kitchen, barely being able to meet his Captain’s and Y/N’s eyes. Johnny? Shy? Not normally.

Price couldn’t deny the fact that his wife was beautiful. But she was more than beautiful. She was selfless and kind. She raised a child, Bobby, as a single mom at sixteen with much help she could get from her parents.

But he also couldn’t deny seeing that his men also found her attractive and were very attentive to her every need. The way that their stares either lingered a second longer or they couldn’t keep eye contact with her and would look at him, asking for permission.

And Y/N wasn’t stupid. She was skeptical of being with John from the beginning. But John made sure that she was loved and respected.

“Are you sure about this John?”

“About what?”

Y/N adjusted herself in her seat and took a nervous sip of her wine. Hoping it’d calm her, which it didn’t. John looked at her with slight concern. Every so often, Y/N would get caught up about her being a few years older than John, she had a son the same age as Johnny and Kyle for God’s sake. They’d only been dating for a few months, but she really liked John, really liked him - she loved him.

“You know… about…” Y/N swallowed hard before continuing, the lump in her throat seemingly growing larger, “About me being a few years older.”

Sighing in slight relief, John gave her a soft reassuring smile. He scooted his chair closer to hers and took a hold of her hands. “Y/N, look at me.”

Y/N turned her body and did as she was told.

“Y/N. Age ain’t nothing but a thing. You are a beautiful woman, who’s dedicated her life to being a loving and caring woman, and a great mother to Bobby - he truly adores you.”

Y/N’s bottom lip began to tremble, waves of emotions about to take over her. John kept smiling at her, took one of his hands to caress her cheek, and kept reassuring her, “Y/N. I care about you deeply, I really do- I love you. And my men already feel like they know you with how much food you’re sending me to give them every time I go to work. They can’t wait to meet you. I can’t wait to have you meet them.”

Y/N let out a chuckle and leaned forward, resting her forehead against his shoulder. Both of them chuckle against each other. Y/N finally leaned back and looked up at John, just smiling at him, admiring him.

“How on earth did I meet you, John?”

“You met me when I dropped Bobby off at your house a year ago when I saved him from a bar fight against one of the other sailors.”

—

“Thank you, Mrs. Price, but you really didn’t have to!” Kyle smiled sheepishly at Y/N as she held a paper bag of his uniforms that she’d washed and cleaned.

“Oh stop, it was no problem at all. Lord knows John can teach you how to use a gun and hurt bad people, but he can’t teach you how to do laundry.” Y/N winked at Kyle, then shot her husband with a playful look.

“Hey! I teach them life skills!” John chuckled from the couch.

“Oh and I washed your caps too! I hope you were ok with that, they were dirty.” Y/N opened the bag and pulled out one of them to show.

Kyle blushed slightly and opened the bag and pulled out one of his caps, “R-Really? You honestly didn’t ha-”

“A thank you would suffice, Kyle,” Y/N chuckled as she watched Kyle pull out his cap and examined it, then looked up at her.

“Thank you,” Kyle said sheepishly.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Come, I’ll make you some tea.” Y/N rubbed the side of Kyle’s arm then gently pulled him into the kitchen, where John joined them shortly, “You headed back to the base soon?”

God, how Kyle felt himself melt every time Y//N touched him. “Y-yes, ma’am! We go back in a few days.”

“Oh good, if I don’t see you before then, I’ll send John with some food for you.” Y/N nodded as she prepared a pot of tea and pulled out some things for them to eat. John sat beside Kyle as they both watched Y/N in the kitchen - admiring her for different reasons.

Kyle was the first one to meet Y/N. John was caught up with meetings on base and asked him to go pick her up. She was wearing a sundress - the same one she’s wearing now as she’s preparing tea. He’d honestly never thought that his Captain would ever get married, or at least to someone like Y/N.

She was so kind and caring - he always felt warm inside when she talked to him and never want to be the one to let go first every time she touched or hugged him. He really liked her and would always do everything she asked him to do, even if she wasn’t married to his Captain, especially because she was married to his Captain. He was almost jealous of her son for having a mother like her, but also felt some relief, because what if…? No. He couldn’t. It’s his Captain’s wife. He shouldn’t find her this attractive, especially when she calls him sweetheart, or when she does his laundry or makes sure that they have food to eat. He’s lost count of how many times he’s slept over on their couch and peeked at her in the kitchen in her night robe - getting a glimpse of her a little more than her shoulders.

There was an unspoken conversation between Kyle, Johnny, and Simon that they all found Y/N Price attractive - but in a forbidden way. John Price had an inkling of it, but he trusted his men to behave themselves. However, he did feel lucky to have met Y/N and Johnny.

Y/N brought him a certain peace and calmness into his life - a life of comfort and domesticity that he’d so desperately wanted in his life during the later years of his life but couldn’t bring himself to actually look for it.

Until one day at a bar five years ago when a group of sailors from the Royal Navy was on the brink of a fight. Bobby had just turned twenty-one and despite being almost as large as his men, was probably the most reckless - Bobby reminded John of himself when he was young, in good ways, and bad. Before the fight resulted in someone dying, John pulled Bobby out of the fight.

“Are you out of your damn mind, soldier? You’ll get yourself killed, or worse: discharged.”

Bobby chuckled as he wiped his bleeding face, walking alongside Price as they walked out of the bar, “Funny thing is, I ain’t a soldier, sir, I’m a sailor.”

“No wonder you still got jokes. What’s your name, son?” John chuckled.

“Robert L/N. Call me Bobby.” Bobby held out his hand out for John to shake. He gladly took it and shook it firmly, “John Price. You got a ride home?”

“Not anymore.”

“C’mon. I’ll give you a ride.”

Surprisingly, the ride home wasn’t as awkward as John thought, Bobby was a lively young man.

“You got anyone at home, son?

“Just my mum. Just been me and her for a long time. Grandparents aren’t here anymore.” Bobby suddenly got quiet. The only sound in the car was the music. John nodded at the response, then broke the silence, “I know she’s proud of you, Bobby.”

“I know… Just hate seeing her alone when I go away…”

This tugged at John’s heartstrings. “Your mum’s a strong woman.”

Bobby remained silent as they pulled up to his home. Bobby and John got out of the car, went up to the front door, and knocked.

Y/N opened the door, her smile disappearing as she saw Bobby covered in a now-dried bloody nose and half a black eye, “Bobby! What did you get into?”

“Hi Mum!” Bobby chuckled as he walked inside, giving Y/N a kiss on the cheek. Still in awe, Y/N looked back at John, “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry! Thank you for bringing him, sir.”

Slightly taken aback by her beauty, he hadn’t expected Bobby’s mother to be… so attractive. He cleared his throat before speaking, “No, it’s alright. I managed to pull him out before it got worse.”

“Worse? Oh my goodness- Bobby!”

“What?” was heard from the kitchen. Bobby came back into the hallway, half chewing food. Y/N sighed at her son as John chuckled. Y/N turned back at John and thanked him profusely, “Oh please, come in! Where are my manners? I’ll make some tea.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t, Mrs. L/N-”

“Oh please, call me Y/N. Mrs. L/N was my mother. Please come in, I insist. I need someone to help me make sure my son doesn’t do this again." Y/N took a step to the side and let John inside her home. It was warm.

He took his hat off and thanked her, “Thank you, Y/N. Please call me John.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TAG LIST

@ateliefloresdaprimavera @galagcica @sweetybuzz25 @wisedinosaurpolice @itsasecrets-things @ronbon @lieutenantlashfaz @piper570 @shuttlelauncher81 @thanksbutno98 @gabriellathegreat @kult6 @crimsonbubble @whore4dilfs @apathetickun

#call of duty #call of duty mwii #cod #call of duty mw2 #call of duty mw #captain john price #John price #Johnathan price #captain Johnathan price #John price cod #captain John price cod

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thewulf · 9 months ago

Text

Lassie || John "Soap" MacTavish

Summary: Request -Okay hear me out!! If you hate it you can change it to whatever bc you are amazing and crush every single request! Soap x reader where reader is maybe newer or helping with TF 141 on assignment... Read Rest Here

A/N: Ahhh had a grand old time writing this angsty to fluffy piece. Who doesn't love a good Scottish softie??? Ahh love Soap so much! As always please keep sending in requests :)

Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x Female Reader, TF 141 x Platonic Female Reader

Word Count: 3.5k +

TW: slight angst, talks of stabbing, lots of blood, talks of blood, despondent reader

Johnny turned looking back at you with a hint of a smirk on his face, “You alright there lassie?”

You huffed in annoyance as you tried to keep up with him under the fifty or so pounds of equipment you had on, “I’m fine Soap. Let’s just get out of here.” You pushed back your helmet that was just a little too big and kept sliding around on your head ever so slightly. You’d just completed the first part of the mission, disarm their equipment. Now the second part, get the hell out of there.

He gave you a quick nod fighting back the sight of you, “Roll out. Follow me.” He nodded his head to the left as he cleared the hallway. You kept on his toes as you quickly followed behind him.

He slowed down when he approached a door that was hardly propped open. Kicking the stand away from it he decided you were going through first. He grabbed you and pushed you through the doorway. Startled by his actions you weren’t able to stop from stumbling through. The door clicked with a shut as Johnny must’ve been preoccupied with something behind the two of you. Not thinking too much of it your heart only started to race when you realized the heavy steel door was locked. You gulped trying to pull it open but was met by only resistance.

You tried opening the steel door a few more times, but the lock wouldn’t budge, “Johnny?” You asked hoping your voice wasn’t echoing down the long hallway giving way to your position. Your hands were shaking as you grabbed for your gun just in case. You would be fine no matter what. You were trained for this. Price wouldn’t let you out of his sight if he didn’t think you could do this with or without Soap.

You couldn’t hear his voice through the door, but you could hear the tapping. It took you a moment, but you could make out that he was telling you to, “Go.” In Morse Code. You really wished you had your comms right about now. You were pretty sure you remembered to get out of the building, but you were also a bit frazzled with this being your first real mission out on the field. You could do it. Johnny wouldn’t tell you to go if he knew you couldn’t.

It was going fine until it wasn’t. You had only a little further to go but then you heard the voices. You ducked in the hallway as you listened in to the conversation. It was no use as you couldn’t understand what language they were speaking. You grabbed for the knife in its sheath on your side knowing a gun would be too loud and would really draw in unwanted attention. You had to get out of her without being noticed. You could do it. You were trained for this.

With a heavy sigh you pressed forward only dodging into hallways as you needed. Except you dodged too late one time and had been spotted. Without so much as a second thought you pressed forward driving your knife deep into the soldiers neck taking him by complete surprise. With your free hand you pressed your hand over his mouth so he wouldn’t make as much noise. You watched in horror as the light faded from his eyes. Your eyes welled with tears as you muttered a “I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry.” Over and over again willing the unshed tears to retreat away one more. Gently, you pulled him into the hallway knowing you didn’t have much time and had to keep moving.

This was too much. You were trained, yes. But you didn’t know if you could do this. You didn’t think your mind could handle watching the light literally fade away from somebodies entirety like you just had. You looked down and shuddered seeing his red bed coating the front of your uniform.

You moved forward with your mind screaming at you to do the opposite. You took down two more even though you tried your hardest to hide. But it was kill or be killed and Soap would actually kill you if you died. So, you did what you had to do and killed them. You officially had a body count. You were officially apart of Task Force 141.

You jumped behind a column and sunk to the floor covering your ears with your knife pressed against your head dangerously close to cutting your cheeks when you heard gun shots ring out in front of you. You hadn’t a clue if it was friendly or not so you did what you could and hid.

It was Soap on a rampage looking for you. His comms were out as expected in the concrete jungle, so he was flying blind looking for you. He gulped when he finally found you crouched behind a hallway pillar. He noticed your shaking hand grasping at the crimson-soaked knife he knew you had to use. His eyes traced over your form looking for any obvious signs of injury, but it was hard to distinguish their blood from yours. You were covered. He fought back the urge to cringe at the sight of your fragile form. This was not supposed to happen. He was supposed to get you in and out in one piece. Sure, that was still going to happen, but you’d surely be messed up from this. Johnny saw the bodies. He knew you had to have killed at least three people in your attempt to get out unscathed.

“Love, we need to go.” He held out his hand hoping you would take it. When your wide eyes met his he knew he really messed up. You had trained for it sure, but you’d never actually taken a life before. Did you kill someone’s mother? Their father? Were their parents going to be looking for them? Would they simply vanish into thin air and be considered missing? All of these thoughts and many more made your brain a useless pile of mush. You were overwhelmed in the worst way.

“Lovie, can you hear me?” His voice was muddled but you could hear him. Johnny squatted so he was eye level with you. He pried the knife out of your hand slowly once he was sure you weren’t going to attack him. Not that you would mean it, but he didn’t know where your head was at.

Setting the knife on the other side of his feet he grabbed at the side of your head, “Y/N, are you with me? We gotta get outta ‘ere.” His eyes frantically searched yours for any sign that you recognized what he was saying.

Your eyes locked with his, “Yeah, sorry. I don’t… I don’t know what happened.”

He smiled with relief grabbing at your blood-stained hand, “There you are, bonny. It’s okay. Gave me a right scare there. Let’s go, we can talk about it later, yeah?” He held your hand this time the entire way out. He had killed far more many people as bodies were littered on the floor. Maybe it was simply inevitable. These people were going to die today whether it was at your hand or Soaps. It made the sinking feeling in your gut subside for just a moment as you thought about how you had killed people today.

You felt him squeeze your hand. Looking up you saw the concern once again washing over his face, “Sorry, what’d you say?” You asked while following behind him. He was moving slow for your sake. He knew you weren’t in the best headspace and didn’t want to push you too hard. You could handle it, sure. But he didn’t want you to hate him either.

“I said you did a good job back there lassie.” He gave you a sympathetic look knowing how in your own head you were at the moment.

You sucked in a breath, “I had too…”

He stopped you before you could say it out loud, “I know. It comes with the job. You didn’t have a choice lassie.” He gave your hand another soft squeeze before going through yet another door in the maze that was this building. No wonder comms didn’t work in this place. It was a cinderblock maze.

You let out a frustrated sigh, “I just didn’t think…” You trailed off once more not knowing how to string together sentences anymore.

“Didn’t think what bonny?” He pressed you on knowing you needed to get your thoughts out. He remembered his first time too. Nobody forgot. It never really got easier in the field you just got a little number to it each time. Kill or be killed. A mantra that kept you sane when your body count grew a little too high for even your own comfort.

“That I would have to take a life. I’m a killer Johnny.” You looked down in shame as if he too hadn’t killed people. Many, many people.

He stopped abruptly pushing you up against the wall as gently as he could, “I need you to listen to me lassie, do you hear me?” He whispered in your ear before taking a peek around making sure the two of you weren’t being ambushed.

When you nodded he continued, “You had no choice bonny. No choice. Price is right when he says it’s kill or be killed. You had to do it to stay alive. And I’m sure as hell glad you chose to fight. I… we love having you here with us. Now, let’s get home so we can get cleaned up.”

You gulped feeling a small weight being lifted off your shoulders at his rushed words, “Thank you Johnny.”

He grabbed for your hand again not willing to take the risk of getting split up from your again, “Anytime lassie.” He turned back to you once you’d made it a bit further, “100 more meters, you up for it bonny?” Nodding quickly, you tried to ignore his growing smirk as you were sure he noticed your cheeks giving you away. The way he was both calling you lassie and the new nickname of bonny had you swooning at the worst time.

Giving him a thumbs up you couldn’t get your brain to work. All you wanted was out of the damn building and back to the chopper. A warm shower really felt like it’d clear up half your worries right about now.

“Come on then.” He grinned pulling you along. He ran a little faster seeing you were keeping up now. When he pushed opened the door you felt your heart rate pick up in anticipation. Just a little further and you were there. Soap checked the surroundings making sure the two of you weren’t sitting ducks before taking off towards the chopper with you in tow.

As if it was second nature he picked you up and as gracefully as ever threw you into the chopper knowing that Ghost or Gaz would stop you from falling out the other side. He was right, Ghosts hands grabbed you steady when you came flying through the open door with Soap climbing in not too far behind you. Swiftly he shut the door letting the pilot know he needed to take off.

You noticed Ghosts soft brown eyes go wide under his balaclava seeing your blood-soaked uniform, “What happened Sergeant?” He looked over you and to Johnny who was standing there with his mouth open in surprise. It wasn’t often a mission got away from him. Let alone one with you. Gaz sat there motionless observing the chaotic scene unfolding before him. He knew it was best to sit back and let whatever was to happen, happen.

Soap pulled you over to the seat next to Ghost and sat you down seeing you were still a tad disoriented from the entire ordeal. Normally he’d be cracking a joke or making fun of you, but he saw that look in your eye. He remembered his first time being truly afraid. You must’ve been terrified. You had to kill, or you’d be killed. You’d heard it thousands of times already by Captain Price in your short stint with the 141 but it never really registered that you had to do it. It meant something so much more now.

Ghost watched as Soap buckled you in. He let him take care of your shaken figure before he would demand an answer. Ghosts eyes softened the softest amount seeing your wide, panicked eyes. You didn’t look hurt. Just afraid.

“A damn door LT.” Soap’s thick accent came out as he focused on you and really only you. It wasn’t out of character for the Scot. He always took care of his teammates. But neither Kyle nor Simon were blind to the way he lit up when you walked into his field of vision. How he always made excuses to be closer to you. How he just seemed happier when you were around.

Simon’s eyes left your body and moved over to Soap’s who sat down next to you, “Care to elaborate?” The Lieutenant didn’t use many words as was usual around the group.

He sighed looking at you solemnly, “We got separated by a locked door. She moved forward at my command and had to eliminate a few targets on her own. I got around through another exit but wasn’t quite quick enough. She’s been in and out of it since.” He spoke calmly as he buckled in. He grabbed a headset and gently placed it over your ears before working on his own.

You gave him a quick smile, “Thanks Soap.” It came out as more of a whisper. You felt utterly exhausted. Who knew a mission as simple as that could take it all literally right out of you? You tried to listen in to the conversation between LT and Soap as best you could, but it sounded muddled as your thoughts raced in front of you. You’d never felt so helpless in your life as your eyes landed on Gaz in front of you who only looked at you with that same concern you saw from not only Soap but Ghost as well. This was certainly not what you had planned when you graduated engineering school only five years prior. Life had a funny way of throwing you a few twists and turns.

“You ‘lright there lassie?” You heard the thick Scottish accent come from your side. They must’ve wrapped up their conversation as you were in your own head once more.

Nodding quickly your eyes broke away from Kyle and up to Johnny, “Yeah, yeah. I’m okay.” It was a lie. You weren’t really fine, but you would be. After a few days of self-wallowing and a some more training you’d be as good as new.

“You’re shaking.” He whispered right in your ear trying not to draw too much attention to your trembling hands

You looked down seeing what he saw. Sure, as hell your hands were shaking rapidly, and you hadn’t even noticed, nor could you stop it. The adrenaline mixed with exhaustion had your body all out of sorts. You turned your head to his just missing his cheek with your own before whispering back, “I can’t stop it.” Soap was the only one of the Task Force you were so open with. Ghost scared the hell out of you. Price felt like your father. You’d never had a proper conversation with Gaz. And Johnny was well… Johnny. He brought out the best in everybody including you.

He took your hands in his giving them a gentle squeeze of reassurance, “It’s alright bonny. We’ll be back on base soon. Get you to the medical tent for a check over. A nice hot shower after that. How does that sound?”

You shook your head trying your best to protest his statement, “Can’t I just take a shower?” You whined to Ghosts amusement beside you. He tried not to watch the tender moment between his two responsibilities but it’s also not like he could avoid it. You were quite literally pressed right up against him, there wasn’t a ton of room in the chopper.

“No can-do lassie. Watched you take a nasty hit to the head. Afraid some of that blood is yours.” He motioned to your head. How’d the massive helmet miss? You touched the tender wound on your forehead that was in fact bleeding.

Ghost grunted in agreement beside you, “Captain’s orders.”

Johnny gave your hands another reassuring squeeze, “It’s alright. I’ll come with ya. You’ll be just fine lassie.” Truth was you didn’t love doctors. And you really didn’t love military doctors. They were so much rougher and more abrasive than the ones back home.

“Fine.” You sighed giving up to all the stares directed right at you. Thankfully Johnny was right. The ride back to base was pretty short. Either that or you’d fallen asleep on his shoulder.

He helped you out of the chopper once you landed. Ghost gave him orders to take you directly to medical and to not leave your side. It’s like he knew you’d go right back to your bunk if you didn’t have supervision. He was right of course.

“You didn’t have to wait up on me.” You said as you spotted Johnny sitting in the waiting room for you. He rose and walked over to you in an instant.

“’Course I did bonny. Had to make sure you were alright.” He looked up to the doctor standing behind you with a kind smile on his face.

“She’ll be fine. Just needs to rest for a few days. Small concussion. I’ve already sent the file over to Price so he should not be expecting you at training tomorrow.” The doctor gently reminded you knowing that the soldiers needed a not so gentle nudge of a reminder sometimes.

Johnny nodded, “No need to worry doc. I’ll make sure she stays in bed.” Soap beamed giving the doctor that all to familiar Johnny grin which wasn’t always a reassurance.

“Right.” The doctor mumbled before departing behind the doors once more leaving you and Johnny alone in the lobby.

“They clean you up then?” Johnny asked as he stepped closer to you slowly. Almost afraid you’d shy away if he walked too fast.

You hummed, “Yeah, sorry. I didn’t know you’d be waiting. The nurse offered a shower, and I couldn’t resist.” You shuddered thinking of how the shower was nothing but red for minutes before the water could wash away all he blood.

“No, no. It’s alright bonny. I’m just glad you’re feeling better.” He took a step closer grabbing for your hand once more, “Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” He asked looking down at the time, 3 AM. For the first time that day he let you lead the way back to your room. He knew you needed some semblance of control after losing so much of it today.

Once you neared your room you slowed, almost hesitating when you reached for the door, “Everything alright lassie?” Johnny asked knowing something was off with you. He always knew.

You turned to him slowly, “I don’t want to be alone Johnny.” It sounded pathetic coming out of your mouth as you spoke to him.

His heart officially shattered then and there seeing you so unlike your usual self, “I’ll stay with you.”

“You don’t have to do that Soap.” You looked down embarrassed by your remark.

“Well, I’ll be. If you just wanted to snuggle why didn’t you say so?” He snickered before pulling you flush against his chest. Immediately you felt your cheeks start to heat under his comment.

“Soap.” You grumbled into his chest not having the energy

“’m just messing you bonny.” He kissed the top crown of your neck as his arm found a comfortable spot on your hip, “Get some sleep lassie. I’ll see ya in the mornin’.” His accent was thick as he too was exhausted. You snuggled in closer smelling his woody cologne that clung to his chest. Sleep came quickly as you were enveloped in his arms. And that might’ve been the best sleep you’ve had in a long time. For you only woke up when Soap’s training alarm went off at ten the next morning. He’d decided to skip the morning session knowing it was worth the wrath of Price for a few extra hours of sleep with you.

You yawned seeing him make his way towards your door, “Try not to get into too much trouble today.” You grinned seeing him surprised you were awake. He had thought he’d done an expert job of keeping quiet. He had been. You just missed his arms wrapped around you.

“I’ll try my best.” He laughed with a big smile seeing your much more coherent expression watching him curiously, “I’ll come get you for lunch, how does that sound?” He asked.

“I’d like that.”

He grinned once more, “I’ll see you soon then. Get some more sleep. You’ll need it.” You nodded at him knowing it wasn’t going to happen without his help. No, you were far too cozy before to even try and sleep right now. But you weren’t frightened anymore no. You were going to lay there and think about cozying up to Johnny’s body once more for it was a pleasure you never knew you needed. Leave it to Johnny.

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