#captain mactavish in glasses is doing things to me

[brewed-pangolin]

"Yer starin' again, love."

Soap's smooth, baritone voice called to you in the vastness of your enraptured stare. Subtle memories of a smile returned into the lines of your lips, pulling yourself back into the realm of existence with a languid whisper rolling off your tongue.

"Sorry, John. Still getting used to them."

"Aye. Take it ya like 'em then?"

Your cheeks burned with the unending affection for the man you had grown to love. Gaze lingering on the newly adorned carbon fiber rims surrounding his eyes, drawing ever more attention to the cerulean stare within.

"Yeah. I like 'em."

"Hm. Still getting used to 'em m'self, lass." He muttered, repositioning the frames on the bridge of his nose to regain focus on the writing in his hand.

"Perhaps you need better reading material," you interjected with a cracked smile.

His blue eyes rolled above the black rim like a current over a pebbled stream. His expression accentuated by a prominently arched brow as he laid the morning paper aside for something much more appealing.

"And what would you have in mind, love? Enlighten me."

You bit the inside of your mouth to keep the smart comment at bay. Preferring a more elusive method of enticing him rather than the usual gritty temperament.

"I think you know what I mean, John."

He shook his head with a heavy brow, a drawn out sigh parting through his lips as his fingers grasped at the arm of his glasses.

"Yer 'opless, lass. Y'know that?"

You raised a hand to halt him mid removal.

"No. Keep them on."

Soap paused. His eyes narrowed, brimming with glorious intent with a curl to his lips that sent a shockwave straight to your core.

"A'right. I'll keep 'em on. But if ya break 'em with them thighs, I'm gonnae break yer back."

"Promise?"

His eyes darkened like an incoming storm within the black, polished frames, a distant rumble echoing deep in his chest as you gingerly hiked up your night gown.

"Heid yer weesht"

Rising from his chair to his full stature, a towering mogul of a man as he marched, knelt down, and prepared to please his most adoring fan.

"Is this gonna become an'ther fetish, lass?"

"Don't know yet. Didn't think I had a thing for an old man in glasses until now."

"Old?"

You had to refrain from letting out a laugh as his growing scowl scolded you. Removing it from his features with the sight of your glistening cunt while he brought himself between the valley of your thighs.

"Do yerself a favor an' keep that smart mouth shut fer five minutes, an' let this old man take care a'ya."

Captain MacTavish Masterlist

[nastybuckybarnes]

Stowaway

Pairing: Ghost X Reader

Summary: You find something fun and want to share it with the skull-face man.

Warnings: Language, allusions to violence, fluff, slow burn

Word Count: 2.4K

A/n: another part of my ghost x mouse thing. if any of you have seen Freeform's Siren, i imagine reader to sound a bit like Ryn when she speaks. if y'all have no idea what im talking about, thats okay too, i still love ya!

~*~

You watch the black vehicle as it rolls to a stop, all but the driver emerging.

This is it. This is your one chance and you cannot fuck it up.

Taking a few deep breaths to steady yourself, you slowly keep forward, keeping your back to the wall and successfully keeping yourself hidden in the shadows.

The men outside the armoured vehicle move away, toward whatever their target of the day is, and you use that to your advantage.

You crouch down, the darkness of the night your best friend as you slink closer and closer to the vehicle, glass bottle held tightly in your grasp.

Finally, with your back to the bed of the vehicle, you throw the bottle as far as you can, wincing at the sharp shatter.

Instead of dwelling on making a sound, something that you’ve been carefully trained never to do, you climb into the back of the vehicle and quietly bury yourself under duffle bags of supplies as the driver emerges.

You hear the driver get out, listen as his heavy boots lead over to where the bottle broke, and you let out a soft breath.

Safe for now.

You snuggle up beneath the bags, steeling yourself for a long night.

Somehow, even with the velcro, clips, and pins digging into your flesh, you manage to doze off, waking up only when you feel the vehicle jerk to a halt, the brakes squeaking lightly.

“Good work, boys! First round’s on me tonight,” a muffled voice says.

You tense up as the tailgate gets dropped, bags being lifted from you one by one.

Finally, there’s a pause.

“Uh, Captain?”

You’ve been spotted, you know that, and you knew it would happen. It doesn’t make it any less terrifying.

You’ve seen firsthand what these men can do. You only hope the one you’re familiar with will be around.

“What’s going on, MacTavish?”

Another duffle gets lifted from you and you squint against the harsh light, blinking furiously but making no other move to get up lest you startle one of them.

“What’s this?” The older man asks, his face slowly coming into view.

“Looks like we’ve got a stowaway,” the Scottish one says.

You still make no movements, staying perfectly still as they toss the other bags off of you.

One of them then grabs you by the arm and hauls you to your feet, making you stumble the slightest bit.

“Gimme your hands.”

You don’t fight them as they snap cool metal cuffs around your wrists. Nor do you fight them when they force you to your knees on the hard concrete floor.

Two of them stand farther back with their hands on their guns, the driver and the Scot, and the older man, the Captain, stands tall in front of you.

"Now, why were you hidin' out in the back of our truck, hmm? What're you doin' here? What are you hoping to find?"

You look at each man carefully, frowning when none of their eyes match the ones in your memory.

"Ghost," you finally say.

Soap and Price exchange glances before the older man leans forward, crouching down to be at eye level with you.

"Come again?"

You huff out a frustrated breath then point toward his breast pocket where a pen and a pad of paper lie.

He glances down at it and then, after a moment of careful consideration, slides the items across the floor to you.

You’re quick to scribble something down as neatly as you can with your hands bound, sliding the objects back over to him once you've finished.

There, on the paper, lies the exact same skull that has been strewn on walls and windows, leading them to hostages and intel.

"Ghost. Or no talk."

The men get tense, the two in the back looking at their Captain, waiting for his next move.

Price cocks his head to the side and gives it a shake.

“Listen, sweetheart. You seem nice enough, yeah? Let me tell you somethin’,” he leans closer, dropping his voice to a whisper.

“You’re on my base. You don’t get to call the shots around here. If you wanna sweat it out, fine. I’ll go grab a drink and a nice hot shower, and then when I get back we’ll see if you feel like talking. And don’t worry about being alone - Gaz over there will be keepin’ a close eye on you. Got it?”

His threat hangs in the air for a long while, but all you do is press your lips together and shift back off your knees to sit cross-legged on the floor.

Swallowing his irritation, Price straightens up and leaves the room, Soap hot on his heels.

“Where’re you goin’?” Soap asks when they’re out of the parkade.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere. You’re gonna go get the Lieutenant.”

With a nod of his head, Soap is jogging toward Ghost’s quarters.

It takes him no more than five minutes to return, and with him is the big burly man you asked for.

“Better have a damn good reason for gettin’ me up at this hour,” he grumbles, black balaclava covering his face.

He’s dressed in his tac pants and a black t-shirt, thick arms on full display.

Price only nods toward the window he’s staring through, watching you as you look around the garage.

“What’s she doin’ here?” Ghost asks, brows drawing together.

Price chuckles dryly, “was hoping you could tell me. She snuck into the back of the truck unnoticed and stowed away all the way back to base. She’s been… agreeable for the most part. But she won’t talk.”

He’s hardly surprised.

“Drew this and said ‘Ghost or no talk’. Accent’s not from here.�� Price turns and looks up at the lieutenant, handing him the picture you drew. “Where’d you find this one?”

Giving his head a shake, Ghost huffs a sigh and pushes into the garage, feet silent as he makes his way over to you.

“Whatt’re you doing here, mouse?” He asks, his voice echoing through the space.

You snap your gaze to his, eyes lighting up the tiniest bit.

Soap walks in after him, hand on his gun.

You shift onto your hip when he’s in front of you, reaching to grab something from your pants but freezing when the other men in the room act.

Gaz and Soap each draw their guns, aiming them at your chest.

"Hands where we can see 'em," Soap warns harshly.

"Easy boys. She's not stupid," Ghost says with a chuckle.

He gives you a nod of encouragement, watching as you move purposefully slowly.

You grab a few items from the waistband of your jeans, sliding the first across the floor to Ghost.

He picks up the small folder, brows drawing together as he briefly wonders how you fit it in there, but those thoughts vanish when he flips it open.

It's full of highly classified documents. Documents that they've been trying to get their hands on for months.

"Where did you get this?" He asks quietly.

You glance at the other two men in the room then back over to him, pressing your lips together once more.

He sighs and glances over his shoulder, holding the folder out to the two men.

"Take this and go get us a tea, yeah?"

They obey without another word, taking the folder and exiting the parkade.

"Where'd you get that folder?" He asks again, crouching down to be at your level and uncuffing your wrists carefully.

"City centre... big..." You frown, searching for the right word, but Ghost knows exactly what you're talking about.

"Warehouse?" He asks.

You nod while rubbing your wrists, happy that he understands.

"If I bring you to a map, can you show me where you were?"

You nod again, pushing onto your knees as he rises to his feet. He helps you up then leads you to the door.

Price, Gaz, and Soap are right outside the door, scanning over the documents within the folder.

"Where are you bringing her?" Price asks, even more intrigued than he was before.

"A map," is all Ghost says.

The three other men fall into a step behind you two, and you try to stay as close to Ghost as you possibly can.

He makes it hard, with his large strides, but you stay all but glued to his side.

He stops suddenly, and you nearly crash into his back, being careful to keep your balance as he turns to a door.

You try to look around him as he unlocks it, but his frame is too broad.

The lock beeps twice then clicks, and then he’s holding the door open for you and motioning for you to head inside.

You do so carefully, eyeing the dark room and shuddering as memories creep into your mind. Memories of a dark cold room with nothing but a leaky pipe.

This isn’t that room. And you’re not alone.

The men enter behind you and then a dim light is flicked on, illuminating what looks to be a board room.

“Here, show me exactly where you found this,” Ghost says, walking over to a map on the wall.

You follow him and inspect it carefully, tracing your finger over a few familiar streets before stopping near the heart of the city.

You tap the spot twice for good measure and look up at him, waiting for his response.

He says nothing, but his eyes are filled with questions.

“How’s a little thing like you get in without setting off alarms?” Soap asks curiously.

You don’t respond, instead you dig in your pants pocket until you find the other souvenir you took.

“For Ghost,” you whisper, holding the USB stick out to him.

He takes it carefully, then tosses it over to Soap.

“Check this. On a secure laptop this time. Don’t need a repeat of-“

“Secure laptop, got it Lt,” the Scot interrupts, turning on his heel and leaving the room.

“Do you know who you stole from?” Ghost asks, capturing your attention once more.

You frown at his word choice.

“I don’t steal. They leave it. It’s mine.”

Price chuckles, “street rats and their squatters rights, hmm?”

You glare at the man with the moustache.

“Not rat,” you murmur, crossing your arms over your chest.

Ghost chuckles and gives you a gentle pat on the head.

“No, rats are vermin. Pests. You’re a harmless little mouse, arentcha?”

You cock your head to the side, looking between him and the other man carefully, trying to understand what he’s saying.

“Once Johnny’s done with that stick we’ll reconvene. In the meantime, bring this one back to her den. Can’t have her roaming around,” Price says, rubbing his forehead.

Ghost gives him a sharp nod.

“Say bye, mouse. Time to go home.” He steps toward the door, holding it open for you.

You follow him, pausing in the doorway and turning to Price and Gaz.

“Bye-bye.” You wave your farewell and the two men exchange glances before each giving you a wave of their own.

Ghost leads you silently through the halls and out of the base, opting to walk rather than drive. S’not far anyway. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to spend as much time with you as possible.

Even though you walk in silence, it feels good to be in his presence. You feel safe.

Finally, as you approach the city, he speaks.

“So you do speak English, cheeky fuck.”

You glance up at him and give your head a small shake.

“Not… not good… not lots.”

He hums, eyes darting around checking for threats.

“S’good.”

You say nothing, only continue walking silently by his side.

He breaks the silence once again, surprising the both of you.

“Why do you help us? Why put yourself at risk for us and our cause?”

You furrow your brows, not understanding the question.

“What does this mean?” You ask.

He chuckles and glances over at you.

“Why help me?”

“Help Ghost.”

“Yes, but why?”

“To help.” You stop walking and grab his hand, giving it a firm squeeze, then put your other hand against his chest.

You stare at your hand, how small it is on the broad expanse of his gear-covered chest, then flutter your gaze up toward his eyes.

“Good man,” you whisper, pressing your fingers harder into his chest.

He swears, through all the layers, he can feel the warmth of your skin.

His upper and lower lashes kiss for a moment before he inhales deeply and chuckles. His gaze softens and he shakes his head, giving your hand a squeeze.

“You must be confused, little one. I’m a lotta things but a good man ain’t one of ‘em.”

You glare up at him and yank on his hand. Though you’re not nearly strong enough to force him to move, he takes a step closer, so close that your bodies are nearly pressed against each other.

“Not confused. Not wrong. Ghost… good man… in here.” You slide your hand up to rest over where you imagine his heart is, your own skipping a beat when he covers your hand with his.

“You’re not wrong? No, never,” he muses, a grin pulling at his lips beneath his mask.

You nod, happy that the two of you are in agreement.

Slowly, you look up at him through your lashes.

The intensity of your gaze has sweat tickling his palms and for a very brief moment he wishes his mask wasn’t in the way.

A soft sigh like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings leaves your parted lips, and then you’re taking a step away from him and toward the dark shadows of the city.

“I go now. Bye-bye, Ghost.”

“This is where I leave you?”

You nod your agreement, taking another step away from him.

“You’ll be safe, mouse, yeah?”

You grin at him and pull out the skull picture you snagged from his pocket, showing it to him proudly.

“With Ghost… always safe.”

A soft smile tugs at his lips and he nods, “always safe with me.”

You give him a small wave then turn around and all but disappear into the darkness, much like you always do.

He stands there for a long while, a thousand thoughts racing through his mind but the one that sticks out like a sore thumb is

Stay.

[thisfanisgonesorry]

obsessed — john price ft. 141

kinktober day 1: public sex (w/ ale, rudy, gaz, soap + ghost)

posting this prematurely because someone brought me cod vault and i need to suck them off

tags: public sex (exhibition, shocker), orgasm denial, light panty stuff, creampie, claiming, all that good good, light homoeroticism, gaz is a funny guy idc, accidental soap bashing rofl

☆

“This is what happens when you eye up my girl.” He started, speaking sternly, his hand wrapped possessively around my waist as I wore the most revealing outfit I owned at his command; he grabbed one hand and spun me around with a soft grin on his face, dancing me around as a ‘humble’ brag.

The soldiers surrounding him seemed uneasy by the unknown. They were afraid of their ‘punishment’, most of them quickly averted their eyes from the outfit that left not a lot to the imagination.

I took my seat on the coffee table in his quarters. The lads were conned into coming over for something considerably less crude, something or other to do with catching up and drinks, implied by the glasses of whiskey with melting ice and the calmness increasingly leaving the atmosphere. The Captain took a slow stroke of my hair, his hand cupping my cheek and angling my face to look up at him. The men sat there uncomfortably, knowing that they’d be unable to leave until they were officially dismissed.

“She’s just so gorgeous, ain’t she?” He hummed.

The room was filled with a dreaded silence, and they all hesitated to respond, exchanging glances in an attempt to figure out what the correct answer was.

“I asked something.” He snapped. “Come on, haven’t got all fuckin’ day.”

“Yes.” Simon responded with a nod, gesturing to the others with command on what he felt was the right way to go about this tricky situation. “She is gorgeous.”

“Yeah, what he said.” They began to agree in unison, hoping that the Ghost would guide them out of this since it was like walking through a minefield, though some would agree that a minefield would be less stressful.

Price furrowed his eyebrows, circling around the coffee table like a hawk, attempting to intimidate the men. “How gorgeous?” He spoke to the Sergeants, avoiding Simon’s gaze as he attempted to weasel the group out of Price’s game. He knew that Simon was figuring it out quickly, almost too quickly.

Simon and Mactavish, who seemingly shared a glance, attempting to connect dots. Soap silently spoke to his Lieutenant, airing his suspicions, and Simon responded with a ‘down, boy’ as they both realised what was actually happening, Soap deduced it quickly, and the other was afraid to be incorrect in his assumptions, not airing it aloud until it was certain, though their mutual conclusion made them both more confident in their chances of being correct.

Alejandro and Rodolfo shared a knowing glance also, lowering their voices and dipping their heads as they had their own private discussion. “¿Estás bromeando? ¿Qué decimos?”, “No lo sé, hace cosas raras.” They quickly spoke as the others shrunk under Price’s gaze, his back to them as he paid little attention to their conversation. “Tal vez deberíamos habernos quedado en México.” They mutually agreed.

“Most gorgeous I’ve ever seen.” Soap spoke up, using his Lieutenants guidance. Mactavish knew that if his Lieutenant thought it was the right thing to do, especially when it comes to Price, it most likely was.

“Maybe too gorgeous..” Kyle snickered to himself with implication, trying to relieve the tension in the air. Everyone was afraid of whatever the Captain was planning — and Kyle was the only one willing to test him despite his respect for him. He was, for the most part, in the know but he hadn’t put it together the same way that Riley and Mactavish did.

Captain Price and Kyle shared a knowing look, and John knew that he’d been figured out by enough of them that he could push forward.

“Baby..” He cooed, turning me to face him again, grabbing my face harshly and making me look at Kyle, his other hand drifted down to the bottom of the skimpy shirt, lifting it up slowly, letting it bunch up above my chest. “Show them your pretty tits.” 

His hands palmed at the lace bra, a smug look plastered on his face as the other men were unsure how to respond. Their faces flushed with nervousness, unsure if they should be watching or not, though as the scene progressed, they were more comfortable in their shamelessness. 

“Lo retiro. Me gusta aquí en Estados Unidos.” 

“Hold up your skirt for me.” John spoke again, I followed his instructions and he spread my legs. He turned his head to face the other men. “Any of you lads wanna see how wet her cunt is?”

Kyle tries to stand up from his seat, his intentions not entirely clear, though Rudy and Alejandro grab him and pull him back down quickly, not patient enough to deal with his practical jokes and firmly held him in place. Price knew Simon wouldn’t volunteer on his own, so he raised his eyebrow at Mactavish. He squinted back, and John gave a slight smirk. He manhandled me, swerving my body around so my spread legs faced the iconic duo, though the small couch meant they all got the perfect view

Their eyes were glued at the wet patch forming on the white panties.

“Mierda.” Alejandro choked out. “Joder, Rudy—”

“Justo contigo.”

Simon was entranced, but was the only one able to drag his eyes away from the view, even if only momentarily. “Captain..” He started. “Could I ask.. What’s the damn point of this?”

“The point?” He questioned, positioning himself on the table behind me, letting the boys get an amicable view of the woman he was graciously claiming in front of their eyes. His hands continued to palm at my bra, he was greedy with want, ‘subtly’ displaying his intent.

“What’re you trying to get at?”

He smirked, one of his hands falling down and rubbing at the wetness. “Like you can’t figure that out?” He shrugged, slipping his fingers under the waistband and sliding in with ease. “You must think I’m stupid, I know how you all act, you want ‘er for yourselves.”

His words were met with awkward silence which worked as an admission of guilt. He had a smug grin, knowing he’d caught them red handed, and they processed what this truly meant. My face flushed red, turning my head to the side and biting my lip as the eyes on my body doubled in size, even Simon was getting some form of enjoyment out of it. It was arousing, yet I couldn’t help but attempt to restrain myself.

“Why so shy, baby girl?”

“Mhm, they’re watching.” I mumbled back, trying to avoid eye contact with any of the men despite the temptation.

“That’s the point.” He whispered, leaning in to press a kiss into my neck, letting his beard scratch at my nape. He began moving his hands more graciously, speaking sweetly and planning deviously. “C’mon, moan for me, princess. Put on a show.”

“Ah, fuck, John—” I moaned out.

“That’s cruel.” Mactavish commented with a grim expression.

“Keep goin’, princess.” He laughed softly, making me squirm under his fingers. “Want me to take your panties off? Show ‘em how your cunt clenches around my fingers?”

“Por favor.” Alejandro and Rodolfo pleaded in mutual agreeance once again. “Por favor buena coño. muéstranos?”

“You’re sick, Price.” Simon spoke, though his eyes didn’t leave the conjoinance. John, the other one, simply frowned, knowing he had to hear the sweet sounds of his name being moaned, and yet it’s not even for him. Both duos simply held their breaths, trying to keep their cool, the other man was unreadable, letting the lust behind his eyes be the only emotion he displayed, he respected Price, but there’s only so much strength a man could hold.

“You’re sick.” John spoke firmly. “Thinkin’ about my girl like this, just givin’ you what you want.” He spat. “Watching you’s get hard in y’fuckin’ pants at the sight.”

“Like it’s our fault?” Mactavish spat back.

“John—”

“Like that!” He growled. “You think I’m not meant to find that fuckin’ sexy?”

“Oi, settle.” Simon interrupted with a demanding bark.

Price furrowed his eyebrows, retracting his fingers and smearing the slickness onto my thigh, letting it glimmer under the dim light. He lifted my hips enough for him to slide the panties off, tossing them at the jealous Sergeant.

“He’s right, you know?” Kyle spoke up, knowing better than to get aggressive when he’s being treated to such a view, but he had to agree with him. His eyes flicked into the panties that Soap held in his hand.

He let out a smug huff of amusement, lifting my hips enough so I was kneeled on the table. The group of men heard the sound of a zipper, and a collective group of inward, jealous groans became audible very quickly.

“Dios mio—”

“Fuckin’ hell, Price.”

They kept their mouths shut beyond that, watching as he tugged at his pants. He stroked his cock liberally, pressing a kiss into the neck. “They act like this is cruel, yet they’re still watchin’, baby, they wanna see how I fuck you.” He hummed.

“You’re— Shit, John, I—”

“That’s my girl.” He cursed, lining himself up as he pushed himself into the slickness, grinning at the way the men’s eyes watched on in awe, inward groans at the way I swallowed him whole.

Their pants were tented, and through fuzzy thoughts and half-lidded eyes, it was clear to tell that they were fighting the urge to get themselves off, but they knew Price wouldn’t let them live another day if they did.

“John. Move, please, need—”

He hummed, grabbing onto my hips and moving me against him. “Of course, princess.” He leant his head on my shoulder, his eyes darting around the other men. “You like my cock?”

“Mhm, yeah.”

“Let them know who this pussy belongs to, princess.”

“Yours.” I praised, whining and closing my eyes. “Right there.”

“Louder.”

“John, yours”

“Louder.” He spoke sternly, his hand dipping to rub sweet circles. “Come on, say it louder.”

“It’s yours, John!” I cried out, 

“I’m fuckin’ keeping these.” Mactavish mumbled with a sour tone, glancing over at Simon and the other men as he stuffed the panties into his pocket. He leaned back, trying to get comfortable as the view tormented his eyes. 

“A few minutes ago you were all for it, what changed, Johnny?”

“You know what, you fuckin’ bastard.” He spoke coldly. “Ale is fuckin’ droolin’, Rudy’s eyes are the size of his fuckin’ head and Gaz is.. Gaz, yet you’re tormenting me?”

“I don’t see you actin’ as well trained as Simon.” He joked. “How is it, princess? Feel you clenchin’, you like them watchin’? Bickering over you?”

“Mhm, yeah, it’s— Yeah!” I nodded enthusiastically as he continued the actions on my clit. He pressed a soft kiss behind my ear, pulling my bra down enough for my breasts to pop out from the fabric. “Ah, fuck, John—”

“Baby, don’t you think he deserves a break from your teasing?”

“Sorry, ‘m sorry, John, ‘m just so close.” I whined.

“Already?” He hummed. “You just like putting on a show? They’re desperate for you.”

“Yes, yes, fuck, yeah, love putting on a show.”

“God, look how wet she is.” Rudy finally spoke up after his long silence. “Fuckin’ creaming on his dick.”

His grip on my hips pushed forward, making me bend over slightly as he kept thrusting into me, hitting the right spot, relishing in the squelching noise that filled the room as the stickiness covered the thighs of his cargo pants. “God, close.”

“I know.” He purred, his hand glued to my clit. “Simon, you’ve been quiet.”

He gritted his teeth. “I know just as well as you, this is a punishment.” He hissed. “I’m not dumb enough to indulge in how bad I want her. You’re claiming her.”

“Smart lad.”

“And she’s liking it.” One of the men pointed out, they were all painfully jealous (and painfully erect at the sight), but they knew this is what happens when Price owns something; this is what they get for wanting to touch his girl in a way that only he should be able to.

I whined, clutching onto his arms. “John— I’m gonna—”

“You’re gonna?” He slowed his movements, keeping it methodical enough, careful to not let me spill over the edge. 

“Gonna cum, gonna—”

“Ask nicely, baby, too busy being all cockdrunk for me that you forgot how this works.”

“Please, baby, let me cum, I wanna cum so bad.” I choked out a cry as I tried to push back on him, needing the extra friction.

“Don’t ask me.” He cooed. “Ask them.”

I sobbed around his cock. “Please, please, let me cum.” I struggled to keep my eyes open enough to look at them.

“They have names.”

“Mhm!” I choked out. “Who?”

“Go down the line.” He breathed, beginning to chase his own orgasm more selfishly, it still wasn’t enough pressure for me to unravel, but his harsh thrusts didn’t help the fuzzy, cloudy feeling. 

“Ale— Fuck, please, please.” I threw my head back. “Alejandro, please.”

He let out a low groan with a weak nod. “I need to watch you. I.. Cum, gorgeous, you can cum.” He swallowed thickly, cutting himself shortly from becoming a rambling mess, taking Rileys words into consideration as he spoke.

“Rudy?” I cried out, my mind all fuzzy. 

Rodolfo glanced at Price, his mind lingering on what the Ghost said, just like Alejandro and just like the others. “You can, Princesa.” He spoke, attempting to stay calm enough where he didn’t rile himself up while using their Captains pet name for me in a condescending way, trying to reclaim what little power he could.

“You gotta use your words.” Price spoke up. “You can do that, can’t you?”

“Fuck, Gaz—”

“It’s Kyle.” He interrupted with a shit-eating grin.

“Please, Kyle, I.. mhm, say..”

“Can barely get your words out, doll.”

“Please!” I snapped, jerking upwards, pushing myself back on Price harshly, seeing white and feeling a sob rise from my throat at the desperation. “Say it, please!”

“Say that you can cum? That I allow you to?” I nodded frantically, and he bit his lip. “God, he really is claiming her. Such a good fucking girl, go on, doll, I’ll let you cum, you got my vote.” He teased relentlessly.

“Thank you! Thank you! Need.. Johnny—”

“Not him.” Price interrupted. John huffed in annoyance, crossing his arms but biting his tongue, restraining the urge to snap at his Captain.

“Mhm.. Simon?”

“You’re up to Simon, yes.” He mocked lightly as a gentle reminder to use my words.

“Simon? Please? You’re all I need, please.”

He glared up at Price. “How bad do you want it?”

“So fuckin’ bad, Simon, please, I can’t...”

He sighed. “Yeah, you can cum.” He spoke, careful to not overstep with the Captain like the others were.

“You heard them, baby.” John cooed again. “Make a sweet mess for me. You’re trembling, princess, you’re right there for me.”

“Just a bit more, please, more!” I begged, letting it wash over me when he added slightly more pressure to my clit, working me right back up to the edge. “Oh, shit, John, ah—” I sobbed, throwing my head back onto his shoulder. 

He mouthed at my shoulder, leaving lazy kisses. “Oh, fuck.” He choked. “Milkin’ m’cock, so sweet.” His eyes were half-lidded as he felt his orgasm impend closer, though he made a point to bask in the look on their faces.

I tensed up, spasming around him. “So good, so good.” I nodded helplessly, eyes clenched shut, momentarily forgetting that people were watching us. “John, baby—”

After the comedown, I slumped forward, going limp in his arms. His quick reaction time was beyond useful as he reached forward to grab me, supporting my weight in his strong arms. “God, ‘m gonna cum, princess. Want it inside?” He spoke smugly, eyeing up the others.

“Yes, yes!” I panted

“Even in front of the lads?”

“Yes, want it inside. Please, John!”

He thrusted harshly a few last times. “I’m right there, baby.” He praised, briefly ignoring the other men so he could feel the warmth around him, to let his orgasm wash over him without the worry of the prying eyes that were trying to memorise and suck in every detail of what was happening in front of them. “Keep sayin’ my name.”

“John, please, need it, c’mon, John, ’m your good girl, need you—”

His breathing picked up pace. “That’s it, that’s it. Take it, princess, that’s it.” He groaned, thrusting a few more times before his pace faltered, spilling his cum inside of me with breathy moans. “That’s my girl, my girl.”

His smug grin returned to his face as he caught his breath, he pressed another kiss on my neck, pulling out and tucking his dick away as he held me in place firmly against him, his embrace was evidently possessive.

“Johnny..” I sighed, leaning into him and closing my thighs tightly, clenching myself in an attempt to keep him inside me.

“Mhm, I got you.” He hummed, fixing my bra and pulling my shirt down to cover my chest again.

“You’re a dick, Cap.” Mactavish finally commented, furrowing his eyebrows. “Gaz was wankin’ to you’s.” He snitched, crossing his arms, frustrated.

“No I wasn’t, fuckin’ snitch.” Kyle snapped back, pulling his hand away from his pants, granted, he wasn’t ‘wanking’, but he was palming himself so points for being close enough, he sat back annoyed and crossed his arms.

Simon stood up. “We’re done here.” He spoke. “They’re done, we’re leaving.” He spoke, announcing to the other soldiers that were overstaying their welcome. “Talking to you, Sergeants.” 

“You’re dismissed.” John approved, picking me up and getting ready to take care of his girl.

They all stood up quickly, preparing to escort themselves out as fast as they could, though having to walk slowly in the small quarters. They attempted to avoid eye contact, letting the previous situation linger in the air.

Simon took the lead, getting off the wide couch first. “Let’s go.” He called out, with Mactavish already following behind obediently. “No fighting or else.” He warned.

Alejandro and Rudolfo stood up and shared another glance with another conversation they kept to themselves as they left just as fast eagerly. “Eso fue...algo más...”, “¡lo sé!”,

“¿Crees que volverá a suceder?”

“Si tenemos suerte..” He spoke with a nervous laugh.

[multific]

When He Comes Home Late for Date Night - Modern Warfare Men Preferences

Modern Warfare Men x Fem!Reader

John Price

John looked at his watch before letting out a sigh.

He was late. Terribly late, and yet he was still determined.

He arrived at his home, opening and closing the door before walking straight into the living room.

There, he found you sitting on the couch eating some snacks as you watched a movie.

"John! Welcome home!" you said before turning back to the movie on TV.

John stood there, stunned.

Tonight was supposed to be date night, and he was late, he was expecting to find you fuming, but you looked calm.

Unless this was a new technique.

"Hi, Darling."

"How was work?" you asked, not looking at him.

"The usual."

"I put your food in the fridge." John walked to the kitchen opening the fridge slowly, as if expecting it to explode, but nothing happened.

He pulled out the plate and re-heat the food. Smelling it.

Could it be poisoned? No, you wouldn't go that far... or would you? 

But John found the food to be delicious. He sat at the table when you joined him, opening a beer for him as you drank some water.

"Did something happen?" you asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You are usually late when something happened...another bad guy?" John let out a sigh.

"Guess you can say that. I kind of expected for you to..."

"Flip out?" you laughed as he nodded. "Well, no point in doing that, I know you couldn't do anything about it, if you are busy, it is what it is unfortunately. We will have a date when the time is right."

"You are an angel." he smiled as he finished his plate.

Even when you met, John knew he won the lottery with you. 

Simon Riley

Simon opened the door fearfully, he feared no man, but the anger of his wife was greater than any terrorist he could ever face.

After about five more minutes he opened the door only to find the house completely silent.

Your dog rushed to him, excited to see his other owner home but other than that, nothing.

"Where's your mother?" Simon asked the German Shepperd who excitedly ran off into the house. Simon headed to the kitchen for a drink and found a note on the fridge.

'Simon,

I had a feeling you would be late, I bet you were scared shitless that I would be angry. These things happen, please don't worry. 

I made you food, it's in the fridge if you want it.

I'm off to sleep now, because I am a grandma and I need my beauty sleep.

Love ya,

Your Wifey'

Simon smiled at the note before heading into the bedroom, he found you there on the bed, sleeping soundly.

He placed a kiss to your temple before he headed for a quick shower.

Johnny MacTavish

Johnny knew this wasn't good. He was supposed to be home, hours ago! He jumped out of his car and rushed into the house.

He could hear music playing somewhere in the house.

"Bonnie?"

"Bath." came a simple reply.

Johnny almost doubled over when he arrived in the bathroom. Scented candles were lit, the tub filled with water which he can only assume you put at least two bathbombs, your hair was pulled back in a bun, in one hand a glass of wine in the other your favourite book.

"Good to see you Johnny." you said sipping your wine. "I decided since you were late to turn date-night into me-night." you said before you turned back to your book.

"Bonnie, it's almost 1am."

"And? I don't have work tomorrow or should I say, today?"

"Are you not... angry?"

"Why would I be? I know your line of work, when you were an hour late, I ordered some pizza and done some skin care. It's not your fault that Captain Price likes to talk about every little detail months before a mission. Be a darling and pour me some more wine please?" 

Johnny was truly stunned. He grabbed the bottle, noting how it was half empty before he poured you some. 

"Did you say pizza? Do we have some left?"

"On the counter. Be quick because I'm almost done here, I believe you have some apologizing to do."

"Apologize? You said you are not angry."

"I'm not, but I thought it would be the perfect ending for my perfect night."

"Alright, Bonnie." he quickly kissed your cheek before he disappeared down the hallway. 

Kyle Garrick

Kyle was sure he was a dead man.

No way he is going to survive this. He was ready to lose everything.

The last time he arrived home late, he barely made it out alive with you being pregnant at the time, your hormones were crazy.

So, again, he prepared for the worst.

With your daughter seven months old, she slept through the nights. You and Kyle decided to have a quiet night and once she was asleep, you would have a nice date in the kitchen.

But of course, his job had other ideas.

Kyle entered his home quietly but it was anything but quiet inside.

He could hear the cries coming from upstairs.

He rushed up the stairs and soon found you in the hallway, pacing, trying to calm your little one.

"She just has been crying for hours now, I don't know what to do." you said as Kyle got her from your hands and placed her on his chest, slowly bouncing her.

She almost immediately calmed down and fell asleep.

"Thank you. She must have been missing you." you said as you let out a sigh, blessed silence. 

"You said she cried for hours?"

"I assume hours, I am partially deaf to my left ear now." you giggled as Kyle smiled.

"Sorry, I'm late."

"Oh, I didn't even notice the time!" you looked at the clock on the wall. "I didn't even cook, all we have are leftovers."

"Leftovers will be perfect, let me put the little Princess down." Kyle gave you a quick kiss before he went to the nursery and put his daughter to sleep. With one last kiss to her forehead, Kyle turned her night lamp on before leaving the room. 

Alejandro Vargas

Alejandro hated to be late.

He was always a very punctual person.

But these things can unfortunately happen.

But he still hated it.

He wanted to go home early and spend the night with you since his mother had your children for the weekend.

Alejandro just didn't expect to get called in on a Saturday.

He was rather angry with himself but when he found you on the couch, surrounded by pizza boxes and soft drinks, his anger turned to confusion.

"Mi Amor?"

"Welcome home! I was a bit... hungry."

"I can see. Five pizza?"

"I also have ice cream and...brownies."

"The last time you ate this much was when you were pregnant." Alejandro giggled but you stayed too quiet so he also froze in his place. "Are-Are you?"

"Surprise?"

"DIOS MIO!"

"I wanted to tell you during dinner but then you were late and I got hungry! Sorry. I had it all planned too!"

"My Goddess! Three?! Are we about to have three children? I am going to be a dad again?!"

Alejandro watched you pull out an envelope and you handed it to him.

He opened and it is a paper he had seen in his life before, twice.

"You are pregnant... six weeks." he looked up at you.

"Yes. And I craved pizza, I saw they had one with fish then I saw the pepperoni and the corn and by the time I knew I had ordered five... I ordered so much they gave me free drinks and ice cream. Are you happy?"

"About the baby or the pizza?"

"...both?" He rushed to give you a hug.

"I am thrilled! I thought you would skin me for being late and here you are, My Angel, perfect, with pizza and pregnant! I couldn't ask for more." you smiled at him as he pulled you in for a kiss.

Soon, you both sat down as you ate all five of the pizza and watched movies.

Maybe being late wasn't such a bad thing.

König

König was ready for the worst.

He didn’t meant for his training to go on for so long. He lost track of time once he was practicing his shooting.

With a rose bouquet in his hand he entered the house, scared of what he might find inside.

He was prepared for you being angry, he was prepared for you punching him.

What he wasn’t prepared for is you sleeping soundly with your cat cuddled up to your side. 

He took a step forward only to check on you and the floor made a noise under his weight.

It woke you up a little.

“Liebling, it’s only me.”

“Ah, okay, baby. Long day?” you asked, not even opening your eyes.

“Yes.”

“Alright, shower and cuddle.” you said before you turned back, ready to sleep once more.

König did exactly as you said, he showered and soon joined you. 

“Are you not angry with me?” he asked as you moved to sleep on his chest.

“No. I kinda forgot that today was supposed to be date night. I went shopping and came home late.”

He only nodded. At least you weren’t waiting for him.

Taglist: @fleursirvart​ @greenarrowhead​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @sincerelyfan​ @theoneanna​ @aestheticsandmarvel​ @rororo06​ @castellandiangelo​ @destynelseclipsa​ @spilledinkindumpster​ @capsiclesdoll​ @puknow​ @alwayshave-faith​ @alex12948​ @lxdyred​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​ @praline357​ @trshngyn​ @avengers-r-us​ @violet-19999​ @top1bbgloak​   @manduse​   @jacalineiscomingforyou​  @mandoloriancookie​ @noname2246​

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[sofasoap]

Reason for life

Pairing: Simon “Ghost ” Riley x F!Reader ( OC aka Mini MacTavish )

Summary: Simon Riley finally made up his mind.

Right after the event of “Death, Comes easily” 

Warning: Mature theme. discussion of unhappy childhood, OC children, discussion of abuse, near death. Angst. slight deviation from canon as well.

A/N : I finally got to Simon. and this rounds up the task force 141 proposal series. *sigh*

 “masterlist”

“Captain.” 

Head down, buried in paperwork, Price only let out a grunt, acknowledging Ghost’s presence. 

“John.” 

Price’s hand stalled. Slowly putting his pen down, finally looking up. 

Ghost standing in front the desk, hands behind his back, shoulder slightly hunched. Price noticed the redness in his fatigue looking eyes. Redder than usual. He noted. 

“Can I talk to you,” Ghost requested, voice soft, as he eyes the soldiers lingering around in the office,  “In private please.” 

Price stared at him for few seconds, before commanding the soldiers. “Alright, everyone out please. Lieutenant and I have important business to discuss.” Price stood up, ushering everyone out. 

Making sure the door is locked, Price turned back towards the desk, gesturing to Ghost to sit. Pushing the paperwork and files aside, Price took out a bottle of whisky and two tumbler glasses from the cabinet behind him. 

Pouring into each of the glasses, he pushed one towards Ghost. Ghost just stares at the drink, motionless for a while before he pulls his balaclava off, exhaustion evident on his pale looking face. 

“Do you still have the box?” Simon broke the silence after he drained the whisky from the tumbler. 

“So you made up your mind?” Price asked, raising his eyebrows, knowing what he was asking for. 

“I can’t delay it any longer. I .. I don’t want another regret.” Voice croaked, “I nearly lost her twice. I don’t.. I don’t know.. “ Simon buried his face in his hands, taking a deep breath. “I would not forgive myself if I miss the chance again. If I can live through the nightmare again.” 

Price has noticed Simon hasn’t been himself lately, after the incident. He was quieter than usual, not even responding to any of Soap or Gaz’s attempt of banter or teasing. Burying deep into his own mind. 

The mission has traumatised Simon, and made him realise things. 

Another prolonged silence lingered between the two. Price took up the bottle, pouring another serve to each of the glasses.

“I’ll get it out from the safe for you tomorrow, Simon. Don’t worry. She wouldn’t say no.” Price comforted Simon. “Good luck Si. I am glad you finally made up your mind.” 

Simon slams the tin box onto the table, more forceful than he intended. He winced slightly at his mistake as he saw you frowning. 

You stare at the box with a cup of tea in hand, making no attempt to reach for it. He watches you, waiting for your next move. 

“What is that?” You asked,  finally curiosity got the better of you. 

“Box.” 

“Of course I know it’s a box.” you rolled your eyes, huffed at his silly answer. “What’s inside the box?” you asked. 

“Things my grandmother left for me,” he whispered. “Open it. Please.” 

Pushing the cup aside, you reach for the box,  Simon’s heart twisted as he sees you open the lid with slight difficulty. Your hands and face were still covered with dressings and bandages from the injuries acquired from the terrorist incident. You are still alive. He closed his eyes, deep breaths in as he tells himself, calming that distress and panic rising from his stomach. You are here in front of him. Everything is alright. 

His eyes open again when he hears the pop of the tin lid. You slowly and gently shuffled through the black and white photos, fading letters, and all sorts of trinkets were inside there.  Simon held onto his breath as you took out the item he wanted you to have the most. 

You held the green velvet box in your palm, like a fragile china doll, afraid it would shatter any minute. Your eyes flicked up towards him, and down at the box again. 

He nodded his head to urge you to open the velvet box. 

Your breath hitched as you saw two simple gold bands inside.

“My grandmother left me this box before she passed on.” Simon explained. Your eyes open slightly wider, he never talked about his grandparents before. “The only happy memories I have from my childhood. Her and grandpa shielded me from the violence and cruelty that my fath… father… “ he shook his head, body shaking with the painful memory. Taking a deep breath, he continues. “She left this in my possession. Her and grandpa’s wedding bands,  along with their photos and correspondence when they were courting.They were married for nearly sixty years before grandpa passed away.” Simon whispered with a sad smile and glint of tears in Simon’s eyes.

Your expression softens as you listen to him, recalling memories. 

Raising his head to look at you right in the eyes, “You gave me a reason to live, a reason for life. You and the children.” He professed as he took a deep breath, voice shaking. “I can’t apologise enough for the actions and the way I treated you.. I can’t lose you again. I nearly lost you, because of my stupidity. My own selfishness, My….”

“Simon.” You put the box down, reaching for his hand across the table, to stop his rambling.“ Both of us were in a bad mindset back then. There were too many things happening at once. We can’t go back. We can only move forward.” You lean your body forward, kissing his hand lightly. “If this is what I think it is, my answer is yes.” 

He let go of your hand as he stood up abruptly, going around the table to scoop you up into a tight embrace, burying his face into the crook of your neck. You feel the wetness as his tears stream down your neck and shoulder, silently crying with relief. 

The weight is finally off his shoulder. 

He feels your arm reaching around his broad torso, squeezing tight.

“I love you very much, Simon Riley. The children love their Da as well, they ask about you all the time when you are away.”  you murmured, as you professed your love for him. “We will always be here for you, to welcome you home, and be your harbour when the storm comes, be your shelter when the time turns bad. You know you can trust and rely on us. Also the team as well. You have a family. You have us.” 

Pulling away from him, you gently grasp his hand, putting it over your heart.

“This is yours forever now. My love. For whatever challenges may come to us again. We will face it together.”

Simon is finally home. 

tag list:

@a-small-writer-in-a-big-world @homicidal-slvt

@floral-force @okayyadriana@cumikering @siilvan

@random-thot-generator @random0lover @devcica @jynxmirage@nrdmssgs @glitterypirateduck @rileyslibrarian

@mistydeyes, @groguspicklejar

@whydoilikewhump @gamergirlbones

[mamalunawolf]

Soap Mactavish || Never Gone but Lost Forever

TW: violence, language, mature ratings apply, some minor sexual content.

Minors do not read. And do not read if you are sensitive to violence and angst.

It felt like a century had passed since Johnny had died. Everyone grieved differently, Ghost kept on doing his missions. Over and over again. Captain Price, did the same. Missions. Either going to Urzikstan to see Farah. Or going to the states to see Laswell and her wife. Gaz, stayed behind. To keep an eye on you..

You were a different story. You were Soap’s everything. You were the calm in his storm. Soap loved you whole heartedly just like any damned fool. How those late nights were restless between the two of you. The way he would be on his knees like a helpless man towards the immortal. How his lips grazed over your stomach. To taste you like nothing else mattered anymore. How his calloused hands held your hips down just to caress your body. Every curve and contour of your body.

“You alright?” Gaz had spoken, knocking you out of your trance. The laptop had pulled up the old reports when Makarov was still out terrorizing the world. Having Johnny’s name pulled up, his photo on the side of the screen. A neutral expression on that Scottish man’s face. He was definitely the best. Clean sweep was what he was. You were trying to find means. A hope. That his ashes weren’t spread across Scotland Yard for nothing. If they were his ashes.

“Yeah. Fine. Just a little light reading.” You spoke, the exhaustion was there in your tone. And on your face. You closed your laptop and stood from the desk. Spilling the only good glass of wine you had that was on your desk. Thankfully, not a lot had ruined your paperwork. “I might head down to the gun range. Shoot some targets.” You suggested. More to yourself than anything. He could come, only if he wanted to.

“Need company? I think I need to get myself into my sniping practice. Cap’n got onto me for it. Again.” He chuckled lightly, rubbing the back of his neck. Only for you to nod and have him follow you out of your office.

—

Shot after shot rang through. Gaz seemed a little terrified that you managed to get each target in the heart or head. You practiced with Johnny too much to count. It was a good shot too. And each one better than the last. The TV behind them was playing. News reports of various things happening around the world.

“This just in! By the harbor was a report of a man taking down civilian casualties. Police have been informed and taking excessive action.” The reporter pans in view. A man in dark plated armor. Green lining into the suit. A black mask, covering over his mouth. The way his eyes stared down the camera before he shot it. Not allowing anyone else to see.

—

“Bravo six. This is Bravo 6-2 and 6-3. Coming in. We see the hostile.” Gaz and you were running. Preparing yourself for an incredible battle between what is right or wrong. Price heard the commotion and made you and Gaz team up and neutralize the target.

“Take the left! I’ll go right!” You had shouted at Gaz. Making sure no other enemy hostile was in the area except for the masked hostile that kept killing those in its wake. You had gotten closer to the hostile. Your gun raised and shooting bullets that did little to no damage. “Don’t move or I will use force!” And the hostile froze in place. Not a single step. Hardly any silence when the piercing screams of death was behind you. “Turn around. Now.” You demanded of him, the tone in your voice gave of some kind of authority.

“I won’t back down. I can’t do tha’ to ye.” He said, the undertone was calm. A little hostile and full of malice. The accent on the other hand was familiar. Scottish. As if you *knew* that voice before. Your eyes narrowed and you took a step forward.

“Soap?” You called out his name. The same lock of hair that trained down his head. His eyes like the oceans that always drew you in like a comfort and beacon of hope. He didn’t seem to know you, though. As his eyes were filled of confusion. The mask he dawned, covered his mouth. The hint of smugness if you could see that smirk on his face. Until Gaz came hurling in, and sent a punch to the face. He didn’t know, not until the mask flew off and johnny’s face appeared.

“Bloody hell.. Soap? Is that you, mate?” Gaz stood there cautiously, and stood in front of you as a protective shield. Johnny scoffed at you both. “Who the fuck is Soap?” He didn’t remember who he was and that painful feeling in your chest grew. He doesn’t remember you. He doesn’t remember the loving moments you shared.

“Johnny..Come on. Please… it’s me.” Your voice choked, you felt the weight of the world on your shoulders fall on you specifically. His eye twitched and he growled in his throat. He lunged forward with a running start and knocked Gaz to the ground. Johnny grabbed you by the throat and slammed you into the wall. “Johnny…please. Stop. This isn’t you.” You choked, your hands wrapped around his wrist and pleaded with him. Begged. His eyes. As if he remembered a little bit of your past together. “Don’t I mean anything to you?” The tears in your eyes pricked and you could hardly see straight.

His grip on you loosened and he stepped back and glared at you. His lips grazed over your ear as he leaned forward. “Everything is temporary, this was merely one of those things.” He moved away and turned his back on you. Grabbing his mask and leaving off the chopper that picked him up. Leaving you with those words echoing in your mind.

He was gone..

But for how long..?

[dragonbe-writing]

My Name Around Your Neck (John Price fic)

Word Count: 4.1

Summary: (Female x OC (no name)) shows up to the bar with a little gold necklace saying "John." Price gets jealous when she flirts with Soap, and she gently reminds him there is more than one "John" on the team. MDNI! 18+

Warnings: Basically all smut tbh. Jealous price, possessive price, LOTS of orgasm denial, begging, semi-public masturbation? i guess?, some fluff towards the end (let me know if i forget anything)

Request are open! I am currently working on one <3! Enjoy!

No matter how much teasing they got from Gaz, her and the Captain weren’t officially a thing. 

Was she often found next to him? Yes. Was it often his name falling from her lips in the dead of the night? Yes. Did they both have matching hickies? Also yes. But they weren’t official. 

But when she showed up to the bar in that dress, collarbone littered with his marks, and a small, golden necklace with his name on it? They might as well have been married. 

Well, to him. 

“Everything alright, Captain?” she cooed, a smirk plastered on her face. 

“Absolutely,” he replied, scooting over to give her room. “You look wonderful.”

“Thank you,” she smiled. “Oh, I was going to sit by Soap, if that’s okay,” she said, eyes darting to the now empty seat next to Price. 

“You were?” Soap asked. 

“Yeah. Just to… mix it up a little bit,” she trailed off, taking the seat next to Soap in the already crowded booth. She sat so close to him their thighs were touching, bringing a dust of pink to Soap’s cheeks.  The Captain’s gaze on her was intense and relentless. 

“Alright,” Ghost started, easing some of the tension. “Well, uhm- anyone do anything interesting?” 

“Are you serious?” Gaz asked.

“Just trying to make conversation,” Ghost replied.

“I did learn recently that 90% of scotch matured in barrels once used for Bourbon,” she said.

“I could use a scotch,” Soap replied.

“Oh, me too-” she started.

“Since when do you drink scotch?” Price asked, tone hard as stone. 

“What, a girl can’t change her mind?” she snapped back, rolling her eyes. “I’m going to order. I’ll be right back,” she said, looking at Soap, placing her hand on his forearm before walking to the bar. Soap’s eyes were blown wide, confused by all the sudden attention. 

“What’s gotten into her?” Gaz piped up as she leaned against the bar. “You and her fighting?” 

“Shut your mouth, kid,” Price snapped, jaw clenching. They weren’t fighting, but there was a new… distance between them. An invisible wall. 

Her laugh echoed through the bar, head thrown back at whatever the man behind the counter said. Everyone snuck a glance at Price, whose eyes were glued to her. 

“God, there he goes,” Soap muttered, watching him stand from the booth and make his way over to the bar. 

“Need help with the drinks, sweetheart?” he said, placing his hand on the small of her back, glaring daggers at the poor soul working the bar. 

“Sweetheart? When did that start?” she asked, gathering the glasses in her arms. 

“What’s gotten into you?” he snapped, eyebrows furrowed together. 

“I don’t have a clue what you’re on about,” she replied coolly. 

“Feeling up MacTavish? Like I’m not sitting right in front of you?” 

“Why does it matter?”

“How does it not matter?”

She stared at him, their eyes projecting all the harsh emotions they were feeling. She tugged him down to her level, breath hot against his face. 

“Since when have you cared who I fooled around with?” she whispered.

“Since you started wearing my name around your neck,” he replied, taking the necklace between his fingers. His eyes bore into her, a warning of sorts. 

“Last I checked, there was more than one “John” on our team, Captain.” 

“And last I checked the only one fucking you was me.” 

She glared at him, grabbing the drinks and turning away, heading back to the table. He stormed out, heading for god knows where. 

“What was that about?” Gaz pestered. She waved away his question, letting the scotch slide down her throat. She scrunched her face up in disgust. 

“Don’t like the scotch after all?” Ghost snickered. 

~~~~

“Night, Soap!” she called, turning the doorknob to her cabin. She reached for the lamp, turning it on with a click as she headed to the bathroom. “Thought I’d find you here.” 

Price was sitting in her chair, hat on the table next to him, eyes fixated on her. 

“Didn’t think you would leave that fast,” she admitted, taking out her earrings and grabbing a makeup wipe. She slowly dragged it along her face, pushing his buttons further. 

“So, this was your plan all along, then?” he replied, voice low. She came out of the bathroom, looking at him with a surge of confidence. His face illuminated by the lamp was cold and unmoving. “Make me jealous?”

“Maybe,” she replied, sinking into his lap and straddling him. “Thought it might be fun.”

“Why? So I can fuck your brains out?” He whispered in her ear, chuckling darkly as she rutted down against him. “So I can take what’s mine, and fuck that little hole of yours so hard the only thing you remember is my cock? So you can scream my name so loud you forget your own?”

A mewl escaped from her throat, her breathing growing heavy at his words. His cock throbbed beneath his jeans. She had settled on his thigh, the material of his pants and her underwear creating the perfect friction. She had her face tucked into his neck, lips caressing his skin. 

“Is that what you want, Princess? You want me to split you open?” He asked, teeth grazing her earlobe. He flexed his thigh, amused at her reaction. 

“Fuck- yes, please John,” she moaned, hips moving sporadically against him as she searched for her release. 

He scooped her up, carrying her to the bed and dropping her against the mattress. Before she could catch her breath, his lips were on her neck, nibbling at her skin and pulling whines from her lips. 

“You’ve not been a good girl, have you, sweetheart?” he asked, one hand slipping under her dress and palming her cunt. 

“No, sir,” she breathed out, eyes snapping closed at the contact. She reached out and felt his erection through his pants. 

“Look at you, completely soaked. Pathetic,” he said, lips trailing across her collarbone and finding their way to her breast. 

“Please, John,” she begged, gasping as he swirled his tongue around her sensitive bud. 

“Please what, darling? What do you want?” he rolled her nipple between his teeth gently, making her cry out. 

“I want to be punished, sir. Please.”

“You deserve to be punished, don’t you?” His fingers slipped through her folds, rubbing circles on her clit. Her back arched, a broken whine escaping her lips. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“‘Cause you’re a bad girl, aren’t you?” his voice rumbled through her body, tightening the growing knot in her stomach. He always knew how to wind her up. 

“I am!” she mewled, hands gripping the sheets. 

“You’re what?”

“A bad girl!” she squeaked. “Fuck, John, I’m close-”

“Well that’s too bad isn’t it?” She opened her eyes, watching him walk away and wiping his fingers on his pants. “Maybe MacTavish can help you,” he snapped, turning the knob and closing the door behind him. 

She was stunned, hand reaching down to relieve the tension in her. She rubbed her clit with intense desire, whining in frustration at the missing warmth of him. She easily slid two fingers in her needy hole, desperately trying to find that release. 

She couldn’t do it. Her fingers couldn’t stretch her out as much as his, and they couldn’t get nearly as deep either. She removed them, letting her hands fall to her sides in a choked out sob, sweat coating her body. 

She wanted to cry, to scream, to run after him butt-ass naked and plead for mercy, begging him to let her finish. But she stayed in her bed, pulling the covers over her and forcing her eyes closed. 

~~~~~

She barely slept. She tossed and turned all night. 

“You look terrible,” Soap teased, passing her a cup of coffee. 

“I will knock your fucking teeth in, MacTavish,” she snapped, bringing the cup to her lips. 

“Whoa, a bit hostile this morning, aren’t we, love?” Price said, wrapping his hands around her waist. She damn near whined at the contact, feeling his chest pressed against her back. He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. 

“Gross,” Soap grunted, turning and heading back over to Gaz and Ghost. Her face was burning with embarrassment. 

He released her, stepping to the side of her and grabbing his own cup. “Sleep well?” he asked, eyes glistening with dominance. He could bend her over and fuck her in front of everyone, and she would thank him. 

“No. Not at all,” she replied, heading over to sit with the rest of them. 

“Aw, why not? Couldn’t quite find that position to release all the tension in your body?” He taunted, her eyes snapping up to him with a glare. 

“No, I couldn’t,” she snapped back, throwing herself against the couch with a huff. 

“You seem to be in a better mood, Captain,” Gaz commented, making him chuckle. 

“Oh, I slept wonderfully, Sergeant,” he replied. “I do have lots of work to do, though. Each one of you needs to come by my office at some point. Have to update some paperwork.” 

~~~~

She had been avoiding him all day. The ache between her thighs was constant, and she couldn’t bring herself to release no matter how hard she tried. And she had tried. 

She snuck off to the bathroom during training, locking herself in a stall. She had both hands in her pants, her fingers fucking her faster than she could process while her other hand rubbed her clit. She got close, she got so fucking close, but she never could get over the edge. 

She was currently on her way to her cabin to try again.

She heard him call her name as she walked past his office. 

“It won’t take long, just a couple things to clear up,” Price said. She cursed and followed him inside, closing the door behind her. “How’s your day been, darling?” 

“Don’t “darling” me,” she snapped. “You know exactly how my day’s been going.” 

He raised his eyebrow in an amused smirk, looking at her from behind his desk. She sat down in a chair across from him, arms crossed. 

“Are you tense, love?” he asked, tossing his paperwork on his desk. She didn’t reply. “If you want something, you tell me, doll.” He leant back, folding his arms behind his head and shifting in his seat, opening his legs up and revealing his erection. She let her eyes wander, landing on the tent in his pants and watching the fabric tighten around him. 

“John, I’m sorry, I should’ve never-”

“Tell me what you want. Or are you just gonna keep drooling over me?” he teased. 

“You, John. I want you,” she whined, rubbing her thighs together for any friction she could get. 

“Atta girl. Come here,” he said, patting his lap. She was up without hesitation, practically tripping over herself to get to him. She went to sit in his lap, only to earn a look from him. “Pants off, sweetheart.” 

She undid the button, letting her pants fall to the ground and tugging her underwear down with it. He smiled to himself. 

“Aw, poor girl, already so wet for me, and I haven’t even touched you,” he sighed. She nodded, cheeks red with embarrassment and eyes hungry for him. 

“Please, sir. I need it.” 

“Need, ay?” he taunted, hands on the outsides of her thighs. “Those are strong words, love,” he drew circles with his thumbs, fingers pressing into her flesh. 

“I mean them,” she whined, sinking down into his lap. She shuttered at contact, burying her face in his neck. “Need you so fucking badly, John.” 

“Are you sure it’s not the other John you need?” he asked, hands moving to her ass. 

“No sir. I need you, John. You only,” she moaned, grinding against his thigh. He raised his hand, bringing it down with a hard slap against her ass, making her cry out. 

“I’m not convinced,” he snapped, slapping her ass again. 

“Please-” another slap. “John, I need you- fuck.”��

“God, you’re such a fucking slut, Sergeant. You liked being punished, brat? You like when I smack your ass?” he taunted, bringing his hand down again. 

“Yes- John, please-”

“Look at you, riding my thigh, begging for me to touch you,” her ass was red now, tears forming in her eyes. 

“Please-” her words turned to cries, the knot in her stomach once again growing. 

“Tell you what, Princess,” he started grabbing her chin and making her look him in the eyes. “You want me to let you cum tonight? Want me to fuck you stupid?” 

“Yes, sir, please-” 

“10 o’clock. Leave your door unlocked. I want you on the bed, legs spread for me. Only thing you should be wearing is that pretty little necklace. You understand, love?” There was mercy in his eyes as they scanned over her face. 

“Yes, John,” she choked out. He smiled at her, wiping away a tear and pulling her in for a kiss. It was gentle, innocent. He pulled away, kissing her forehead once more. 

“Good girl. Pants back on, sweetheart,” he ordered, focus drifting back to his paperwork. She whined as she stepped back into her clothing, her release slipping away again. He slapped her ass one last time as she walked out, earning a giggle from her. 

~~~~

It was 10 o’clock sharp when he opened the door. She spread eagle on the bed, hands already gripping the sheets. The necklace sat nicely on her chest. 

“Look how beautiful,” he said, pulling his shirt off and tossing it across the room. “Such a pretty girl.” 

She smiled, sitting up and watching him unbuckles his pants, his cock painfully hard. He pulled the waistband down, his cock springing free. The tip was an intense red, already dripping with precum. She licked her lips, and he couldn’t help but blush at her reaction. 

“What do you want, sweetheart? You want to go slow-?”

“Fuck no,” she said with no hesitation. “I’ve been wet since last night. Just fuck me, please,” she whined, reaching out and stroking his cock. 

“Oh come on,” he said, placing his thumb against her cheek. “I know you can do better than that, pretty girl.” He grabbed her chin, leaning down close to her face. “Beg for me.” 

Her eyes were wide, staring back into him with a burning desire. 

“Please, sir. I need you to fill me up, sir,” she said, pulling him onto the bed. “I need you so badly, can’t cum without you, John.”

“How many times did you try, sweetheart? How many times did you get so close, only to lose it at the last second?”

“Four,” she whined. “One last night, one this morning, once in the bathroom, and then in your office.”

“Poor thing,” he mocked. 

“Please,” she begged, “I need you so badly.” 

He pushed her on her back, crawling on top of her and shoving his knee between her legs. She moaned, instantly grinding against it, 

“You need it, huh?” he mocked, lips falling to her neck. 

“Yes baby, need you so bad- mmf, please fuck me, sir. I need you to fuck me deep, fuck me so hard I can’t walk-” a growl came from his throat as he sucked a dark bruise on her neck. 

“Can’t do it yourself?” he teased, his beard rubbing against her sensitive skin. 

“No sir,” she whined. “I tried, I tried so fucking hard, John, but I can’t,” she cried out as his knee pushed back against her. “I can’t get anywhere close to how you make me feel, John.” 

“You’re damn right,” he snapped, spreading her legs with his knee. He pushed the tip against her folds, soaking it with her slick as he lined himself up. He pushed into her, pulling a groan from both of them as he sank to the base. 

“Oh my fucking god-” she whined, her walls stretching around him. 

“That’s it, sweetheart. You take me so well,” he moaned, head raised to look at her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, allowing him to go deeper into her. 

He rolled his hips, the skin of his stomach rubbing against her clit as he kissed her cervix. She was already a mess around him, tears in her eyes and blubbering out her words. 

“You f-feel so fucking good, John,” she gasped, eyes squeezing tight as he sped up. “Ohh my god-”

“Eyes open, love,” he said, snapping his hips back into her when she opened them. She closed them again, eyes practically rolling back in her head. “I said look at me,” he snapped. 

“John, I’m- uhh-!” she shouted, squeezing him tightly as she came around him with no warning. He kissed her neck gently through her orgasm, hushing her back down to reality. 

“Look at you, barely even moved and you came,” he said, slowly thrusting into her. Her toes were clenched, her face red and tear stained. “Haven’t even fucked you properly.” 

“John, I’m sorry-”

“Fucking whore,” he spat, slamming his hips into her again. “Flirting with Soap, just so I fuck you dumb?” 

She whined in response, fingers tangling in his hair for support. His hands were firm on her hips, fingers digging bruises into her skin. 

“You think MacTavish could fuck you like this?” he asked, throwing her legs over his shoulder and straightening his back. She cried out at the new level of depth he reached, her other hand raking across his back. “You think Soap would’ve made you cum that fast?”

“No sir,” she choked out.

“You think he would know just what drives you crazy?” He was fucking feral now, pounding into her like he was dying. 

“No sir-!” 

“You think anyone else but me could make you cum?” he snapped, bringing his hand down and slapping her thighs. She had tears falling from her eyes, broken moans coming from her lips at his words.  “You think anyone but me could fuck you this deep?” 

“Need to cum, ple-”

“Quite! You think anyone else could leave those marks on your neck?” he reached up, pressing one with his finger before wrapping his hand around her neck. 

“John-!” He sped up again, pounding into her with no remorse. 

“You know why no one else can fuck you like this?” He started, pressing his thumb to her clit. “Because this pussy is mine. You hear that? This cunt belongs to me.” 

He released her neck, her moans growing louder and louder. 

“I can’t hold it, I have to cum, please-” 

“You don’t get to cum, you know why? ‘Cause it's my pussy,” he growled, letting her legs fall back around his waist as he buried his face in her neck. 

“It’s yours, John, I’m yours, please-!”

“Damn right,” he said, pressing kisses to her collarbone. “You’re mine, and don’t you fucking forget it either.” 

Tears streamed freely down her face. She was quickly becoming overstimulated, John hitting all the right angles to pound into her g-spot. 

“Fuck, John, it’s yours, please, need to cum,” she cried, fingers dragging along his back. 

“You say my name, you hear me?” he groaned, lips grazing her ear. “You cum, and you scream my name.” 

“Fuck- yes, John, fuck, John-”

“Atta girl, let everyone know who this pussy belongs too,” his breathing was labored, his own release drawing near as she squeezed around him. She could barely make a sound, her voice hoarse as she came around him, His hips stuttered, working her through her release. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful, sweetheart. Look so good with my name around your neck,” he growled, his pace speeding back up. 

“I’m yours, John, and only yours,” she whined, one of her hands moving to his head and playing with his hair. 

“That’s right, love. Mine. Not Ghost’s, not Gaz’s, not fucking MacTavish’s, mine,” he grunted, his eyes rolling back and shutting. “Fuck, princess, you’re pussy feels so good, squeezing me so tight-”

“You mean you’re pussy?” she replied, making him moan like she’s never heard before. 

“That’s fucking right, so fucking- ah-” he whimpered, he fucking whimpered, pressing weak kisses against her neck. “Whose pussy is that?” 

“Yours, John,” she whined.

“Damn.” thrust. “Right.” thrust. “God, baby girl.”

“Fuck, Captain, please fill me up-” she whined, “wanna be filled, please-!”

“Tell me who you belong to,” he growled, cock hitting her walls with an animalistic intensity. 

“I’m yours, John, all yous-”

“Say it again, baby, please-”

“I’m all yours, John, want you to fill me up-!”

“Atta girl!”

“John, I’m gonna fucking cum, please-” 

“Right there with you, darling.”

“Please let me cum-!”

“Let it out, pretty girl, say my fucking name-”

“Holy shit, John, I’m-!”

“Fuckin’ hell-” his hips slammed into her, no doubt bruising her. His thrust grew weak as she squeezed his cock, her orgasm soaking him. His body dropped onto her, cock buried deep inside her as he coated her walls. She whined at the feeling, kissing his neck as he came down from his high. He was mumbling incoherently, words jumbling together as his hips slowly came to a stop. 

“John, feels so fucking good being filled up,” she mumbled, hands in his hair. 

“You’re gonna be the fucking death of me,” he muttered, slowly removing his cock. She hissed at the feeling. He got on his knees, leaning back and watching his cum spill out of her. He pressed two fingers to her throbbing cunt and shoved it back in, eyes filled with desire. 

“John,” she whispered, “come back.” 

“Right, sorry,” he said, shuffling back up and laying next to her, pulling her into his chest. “You want me to clean you up?”

“Eventually. Just… stay here for a while,” she replied, her face buried in his chest as their bodies mushed together. He hummed in response, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as his hand rubbed small circles on her back. 

“I didn’t cross a line, did I?” he asked, making her giggle. “Hey, I’m serious, sweetheart. Did I say anything that made you uncomfortable?” 

There was genuine concern in his voice, making her feel guilty for laughing. She felt a different knot in her stomach, one that had started this business in the first place. She took a deep breath, slowing her heart down before she got too excited. 

“Maybe. Did you mean it?” 

His brain short circuited. His mouth was dry. All his emotions were coming to the front lines, and he didn’t know if he could handle a massacre. 

“I meant every word,” he started, voice shaky. He stopped and cleared his throat. “I know what we both said when this started. I know we agreed that we wouldn’t develop feelings-”

“I love you,” she blurted out, face heating up against his skin. 

“...what?”

“Oh god, nevermind-” she pulled away from him, climbing up out of bed. 

“No, wait-” he said, sitting up.

“I’m sorry-” she started for the bathroom, movements frantic. 

“Stop-”

“I should’ve never said anything-”

“Sweetheart-”

“I’ve ruined it all, haven’t I?”

He followed after her, grabbing her wrist and turning her back to face him. There were new tears in her eyes.

“Say it again,” he said, his voice gentle. 

“John, please don’t make me-”

“Just- say it again.” 

She scanned his face. Once. Twice. A third time. She was normally good at reading people, but she couldn’t sense a single fucking thought in his head. Her heart was racing, beating like she had a gun to her head. 

“.. I love you.” 

He grabbed her other hand, pulling her in and slamming his lips against hers. She moaned in surprise, reaching up and lacing her fingers behind his head as his hands fell to her waist. The world stopped. Nothing else mattered except him. For one moment, the universe revolved around them. 

The kiss was a different kind of passion. The kind he used when he saw her early in the morning, or when he cleaned her up. It was the kind he used when they got back from a particularly difficult mission. It was gentle, loving, world-stopping. 

They moved in sync to the rhythm of their own hearts, all their anxieties slipping away. Both gasped for air when they released, face red with embarrassment. 

“I love you too, darling.” 

“I’m all yours, John. I promise I’ll be yours as long as you’ll have me,” she said, her thumb caressing his cheek. 

“If I ever say I don’t want you, shoot me at point blank,” he replied, mustache twitching in a smile. 

“Whatever you say, Captain,” she winked, tugging him back down into another kiss.

[gazs-blue-hat]

Chapter two of my King!Johnny X Siren!Reader series!

Warnings: Mentions of hypothermia, Royal duties, religious trauma mention (not much), canon typical violence, canon typical language. (Please let me know if I missed any)

AN: As always, Dedicated to @sprout-fics for listening to my Johnny thoughts. Formatting may be weird due to me being on mobile.

Word Count: 2,255

Johnny MacTavish stood on the docks, his cloak over his shoulders and a lantern in his hands. His bag, weather worn and water rusted was tucked under the wheel, holding the small skiff steady. His eyes were glued to the sea, water like glass and stars reflected in the surface. He glanced back to the castle, large and black against the twinkling sky. He could see the silhouettes of the people inside the castle going about their evening. He could see the maids, dusting various fixtures and polishing fittings on the windows. He could see the knights, patrolling the hallways and stairs in pairs.

He sighed again, turning back towards the silent sea. It had been a fortnight since he had seen the siren on the shore and he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind since. Every waking thought was haunted by her. He would often wake in the night, hearing that scream in his ears and feeling the slap of her tail against his face. He would then fall asleep to the memory of her eyes. Eyes so full of anger and of fear, but also mystery and curiosity. Eyes as deep as the ocean itself but also full of the light of electricity from the sky.

He reached into his pocket, removing a small leather pouch tied off with a silver chain. He opened the pouch, looking at the glimmering scales within. He picked one out, rubbing his thumb against the slickened material. The scale had cracked against the rocks, it was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. It glimmered in the lantern light like the last glimmer of sunlight over the waves. It reflected light like the water at sunrise, shimmering and shining as he moved it around in his grasp.

He closed his fist, replacing the scale back in the pouch and placing it back in his pocket. He stepped onto the skiff, water peacefully lapping at the wooden sides like the touch of a friend long since seen. Johnny inhaled deeply, feeling for the first time since he took up the crown, like he was home. The feeling of wood under his hands, the scent of salt in the air, the movement of the ship under his feet.

No doubt about it, this was his true calling. A man and his ship, alone on the tapestry of stars and sea. He thought back to his friends for a moment and the warnings they had given him. All four of his closest companions and advisors had warned him not to go on this venture.

The surgeon had warned him of the water’s temperature, of how the icy liquid would certainly be his death if he fell in. The Knight Captains had warned him of the vulnerability out on the water. And that if someone wanted to kill him, out on the open ocean would be the perfect place to do so. His royal advisor had mentioned all of the duties he had to see to in the morning, that he would be too tired to attend court the next morning.

Of course, none of the warnings had worked. Johnny was haunted by the siren he had seen and he would be damned if he couldn’t see her again. He pushed off the dock, using the oars he had to paddle away from the land. It was hard work, and it caused his shoulders to burn in a way they hadn’t since he had taken the crown.

“Had it dropped on my head is more like it.”

Johnny continued to row. Pulling and lifting and pushing and lowering, then pulling and lifting and pushing and lowering. He continued this cycle until the castle was no longer visible and he was alone in the sea of glass. He didn’t know exactly where he was going, only following the feeling in his chest that hadn’t gone away since he saw the siren on his shores. The feeling acted as some kind of compass, leading him further and further from the coast.

Once he felt he was in the right spot, he pulled the oars in and sighed softly, rolling his shoulders to loosen the muscles that had started to burn. It felt good to be working with them again, and it seemed that he had gotten far enough away that he was only able to see stars and the moon reflected on the ocean.

He extinguished his lantern and moved to the front of the boat, watching the ripples his skiff caused as it bobbed in the slight current that moved it. He looked out across the ocean, looking for any sign or...something.

“C'mon lass…you brought me out here. I cannae get a solid snooze without seeing you in some corner or hearing your scream.” He didn’t know who he was talking to, but he felt like he should speak. He sighed and ran his hands through his hair, feeling the overgrown state of it. The surgeon had offered to trim it for him and give him a “proper cut”, but he had declined, opting to keep the hairstyle his crew had affiliated with him.

He sat silently for a long while, just looking up at the sky and the water. His mind wandered deep in his memories of the open sea and he realized how truly alone he was in this moment. Usually on a ship, he’d have his crew bustling above and below. It didn’t matter what time of day it was, there was always at least a few people milling about. But now, on this empty sea, he was alone. Completely alone with his thoughts and not a single other soul.

He shifted, his arms folding under his head to act as a barrier against the tough wood of the ship’s side. His breath crystallized before his eyes and he tucked the cloak tighter about his broad shoulders, refusing to shiver. He looked out, seeing the occasional shift in the water from some current or other natural occurance. He felt stupid, coming out here all alone just to get a glimpse of something that might not have existed in the first place. Still…something in his bones told him that he was in the fight place. He just needed to be patient.

Patience was never his strongest suit, and anybody who had served with him would tell that to anybody. He was known to be stubborn, headstrong, determined and a whole other slew of words that he didn’t pay much mind to.

After another hour of nothing, Johnny stood up, crossing his arms over his chest and looking into the depths. What was it his mama had always said? “If you want someone to approach you, you’ve gotta be friendly. Wipe that scowl off your face John, it doesn’t suit ye.” Taking a deep breath, he leaned over the side, looking into his own reflection in the water.

“I know…you were probably scared. Scared and beaten two ways to Sunday. Nobody deserves a beating like that, and I’m honestly shocked you lived through it. I’m glad…you washed up on my shores so I was able to help ye.” His words were soft, and settled over the stillness like a soft blanket on a bed. He felt at peace out here, the rocking of the boat and the smells of the sea. He felt like someone was truly listening to him, hearing his words and taking them to heart.

He spoke to the air for a long while, going from sitting to standing to pacing the length of the small wooden vessel. He spoke to the sea about her daughter. About how afraid for her he had been, and how much he longed to see her again. He didn’t know if the siren was listening or if the presence he was feeling was that of the ocean herself. All he knew was that it felt nice to speak freely without the thought of being judged.

He spoke about the stresses of being king, of how he never asked for the burden of monarchy to rest upon his shoulders. He spoke of his comrades, how his advisors didn’t know how long the conflict with the south could be avoided. He spoke about the surgeon and the knight captain, how they were sneaking into one another’s quarters and thinking nobody knew. He knew, of course. It was his castle after all and they were his closest friends.

Once he had exhausted the worries in his mind, he felt lighter than ever before, smiling softly at the water. He then thought back to the siren and groaned, forgetting why he had come out here. “Just a glimpse of the lass, I swear it. Just one more look and I won’t…” he sighed softly, shaking his head and sitting down with a heavy sigh. What was he doing out here? Speaking to nobody?

Praying?

Johnny MacTavish wasn’t a religious man. At least not anymore. Not since God had failed the men under his command. Not since God had abandoned them when they needed him the most. Not when God had taken his life away from him.

He groaned softly, laying back so he was laying across the width of the ship. He folded his arms behind his head and looked up at the stars, mapping the constellations in his mind and taking deep breaths. He felt for the pouch of scales in his pocket again, holding tightly to it like a life line. The only proof he had that she was real. That there was something for him to see out here.

“You’re a right bastard you are. I cannae sleep. I cannae think. I cannae breathe without thinking of her. That siren…you’re off your heid, that’s for damn sure.” His sentence tapered off as he closed his eyes and found himself drifting off to the first peaceful sleep he had experienced since seeing the siren two weeks ago.

——-

The first rays of sunlight weren’t what woke Johnny from his sleep. Nor was it the soft rocking of the ship and the rustling of the sail as the wind began to pick up. No, it was the sound of coins being dropped into his boat.

At the first soft clunk sound, he had opened his eyes, rubbing them free of sleep and beginning to stretch himself awake. He turned his head in mind yawn and then froze, blinking a few times to be sure he was seeing things right. One hand was holding tightly to the side of his skiff, the nails long and sharp, more resembling claws than regular fingernails. Johnny didn’t dare breathe as a second hand came up, a fist full of golden coins dropping the contents onto the wood of his ship.

Three more times the hand dropped coins on his ship, and with each delivery of gold, Johnny sat up more and more. By the time the hand retreated the third time, Johnny was able to peer over the edge of the skiff and see the rest of the person or thing giving him riches.

The same siren from before was right below him, her eyes just as piercing as they had been that night. She blinked at him, head turning to the side as she lowered her hands back into the water. Johnny placed hands on the railing but didn’t lean forward, not knowing what to do or what to say. The siren did the same, just treading water with her powerful tail and minimal arm movements.

Looking into the water, Johnny was able to see that her tail was still extremely tattered and she had wrapped it in some kind of seagrass or seaweed much like his surgeon had wrapped his wounds with fabric in the past. He slowly nodded and smiled at the siren, watching as she lifted her hand to her chin and slowly moved it in a downward arc towards her chest. Her arm didn’t bend and he could see the palm of her hand when she was finished.

He moved slowly, extending his hand out towards the siren in a form of handshake. He was careful not to lean too far over the side, lest he fell into the frigid water below. The siren hesitantly lifted her closed hand as well, reaching up slightly as if she was going to touch him. Johnny held his breath as the siren glanced between his hand and his face. Was she going to take it? Was she going to touch him?

Was he going to hear her voice?

The siren’s hand opened and a pearl sized emerald dropped into his open palm. He caught the gem and watched as she bared her teeth, hissed and then dove back into the water, quickly vanishing into the depths of the sea. He leaned over a bit more, causing the ship to tilt dangerously. He cursed himself and righted before the ship could list and further to the side.

The wind began to pick up and Johnny immediately went to fasten the sails. The ocean had shown him his siren again. She had shown herself to him. Sure she had hissed at him and disappeared once more, he had seen her again, and for now that was enough. With a smile on his face and hope in his heart, he aimed the bow of his ship towards home, all the while keeping the emerald tightly held in his hand.

“Until next time, my siren.”

[starandcloud]

Bullet Proof

Chapter 1

TW: Panic attack, PTSD episode, PTSD induced night terrors, Medication, Death

Chapter 1 -> Chapter 2

Bulletproof Mainlist

Mainlist

COD Masterlist

Bullets flew across the battlefield, hitting buildings and people. The ground was painted red as the crimson life drained from his fellow soldiers. What happened? everything was fine everything was supposed to be fine everything was going as planned this wasn’t planned this wasn’t supposed to happen why couldn’t he move why couldn’t he scream why wouldn’t his feet move why why why why why

Waking up in a cold sweat, Lieutenant Simon “Ghost” Riley sat up. The once comforting blankets tangled around his legs and he could feel the puddle of sweat he had created. His shaking hand found his hair and pushed it from his face, the soaked strands that fell back into his face were enough to make him sharply inhale. The disgustingly dry desert air was suffocating, his binder cut into his ribs making oxygen an occasional thing. Forcing himself out of bed he fought with the tight fabric. The way it bit into his skin and the sweat trapped under it made him sick, the sand between his toes made him want to tear his feet off. Everything was too much. He could feel his skin touching him, the way his hair stuck to his skin made him want to throw up. Simon’s breaths came in short and sharp bursts, the Lieutenant didn’t notice the feral growl that left his lips as he ripped the fabric that restricted his movement off his shoulders, and sank to the floor. Why the fuck did he have to wake up like that? Still breathing heavy he glanced at the foldable table where his medication and a glass of water sat.

Oh.

That’s why.

Closing his eyes, Simon rested his head against the wooden support pole of his tent. The wood dug into his skull as he started to relax, he hated waking up like that. In a panic with overstimulation nagging at his body. He had pushed himself too hard during training, he knew he had and had planned to sleep it off. He could see how well that plan had worked. “L.T.?” The thick Scottish accent poured through the tent, making Simon tense ever so slightly.

It’s just Soap.

“Yes Johnny?”

“Are you okay?” ‘No I’m fucking not MacTavish. Do I sound okay?’

“I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”

“Actually L.T. I was wondering if you wanted a smoke with me?”

Silence filled the tent as Ghost contemplated getting up, a baggy shirt would cover his chest. He just had to wait a bit longer until he could go on leave, he had everything planned out. Captain Price was more than helpful with planning, Simon had never been excited for something like this.

“Yeah. Just a minute Johnny.”

Simon pulled himself up and pulled on a tight bra and a baggy shirt, slouching slightly he grabbed his cigarettes and lighter.

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

Can I please have a small oneshot on a topic "What does Simon Riley need"? Maybe it's a promotion, or a raise? An apology, maybe? Can be also not so serious, maybe 'steal Soaps practice chanter, so the base can live in peace and silence for at least one evening'. Love-love-love!

Ooooooh I like it! I set it before my fic, I'm sure people are absolutely fed up with finding Riot everywhere.

Also, I can't write short things it seems! Thanks for the ask, I had a lot of fun! <3

''What do you mean, there's nothing else to do?''

Captain Price sighed, looking up from his own paperwork to find Simon's glaring brown eyes fixed on him. The Lieutenant was standing right in front of his desk, arms crossed, his looming, imposing frame almost obscuring the entire view of the office's door.

''Simon, it's a bank holiday. More than half of the privates are on leave, and the training drills are on hold. There's no one to train, no new paperwork, no vehicle needs fixing''

''Give me some of your paperwork then''

Christ, he sounded almost desperate. For someone else, Ghost's voice was as deadpan and inexpressive as always, but for someone who had known him for more than a decade, from before he was Ghost, it was easy to distinguish the little details. The stiffness of his broad shoulders, the way his fingers dug in his own biceps while crossing arms, the way his eyes were almost pleading.

''I'm almost done and I'm leaving, I just have to sign it. And no, you can't forge my signature''

''Well, in fact I can''

Price chuckled, shaking his head and making a show of how he was signing the last paper. Ghost groaned, tempted to just throw his hands in the air, but he simply walked over to the window to look out. The base was eerily silent.

The Captain waited patiently, checking his papers, but in reality he was observing the Lieutenant. It wasn't unusual for them to spend hours in silence in that very office, doing paperwork and sharing a glass of whiskey, sometimes even a cigar. He knew how to deal with Simon, he had done so countless times in the past. He just had to wait.

Sometimes, he even knew how to deal with Ghost.

''I just need something to do'' The younger man muttered at last, his back still to his superior officer.

Price nodded knowingly, tossing the stack of papers on his desk and leaning back on his chair, looking at Ghost.

''Well, there might be something...''

''What is it?'' Simon turned to look at him, not even bothering to hide his anxiety. He needed something, anything to do, to quiet down his mind.

''Soap and Gaz are plotting something in the common room'' Price checked his watch, with a serious face. ''I heard them during breakfast. I didn't quite catch what it was''

''Knowing them, nothing good'' Simon was already thinking of the possibilities, each one grimmer than the last. They could be planning to make the microwave explode. Or maybe fill the room with post-its, one of them had done so to their office, so it wasn't beyond them. Or, God forbid, they could be planning to stuff the sofa's cushions with glitter. They had already done that as well.

''Exactly'' The Captain nodded, observing with satisfaction how Ghost's eyes were already distant, his brain trying to come up with a plan to discover the Sergeants' shenanigans. ''I trust you'll keep an eye on them to make them behave, Simon''

Ghost just grunted. He didn't want to appear thankful or anything, but Price took the sound for what it was, and waved him goodbye while the Lieutenant left the office, his heavy steps echoing in the hallway until they faded in the distance.

*

When Ghost was halfway down the corridor, with the common room's door in his sight already, he could hear it. The microwave. Popping sounds and giggling.

The fucking microwave.

He quickened his pace and threw the door open, ready to sternly tell off both MacTavish and Garrick, only to find them excitedly gathered around the microwave, with an empty bowl and another bowl full of... popcorn.

They were making popcorn.

''Lt!'' Soap's wide grin welcomed him. ''Do you want to join us? We're going to watch a film!''

Even Gaz looked glad to see him. Ghost's eyes narrowed beneath his balaclava.

''What are you plotting?''

''Right now, just to get all the kernel to pop'' Gaz shrugged, still smiling and then watching again the microwave. Both Sergeants were giggling with glee each time there was a loud pop sound coming from inside, and Ghost considered for a moment if they had hit their heads earlier in the day or something.

''Are you sure that's all you're doing?''

''Aye, Lt... There's nothing to do, and most people have left for the holiday. Oi, care to join us?''

The Lieutenant considered his options. He could leave, which was his usual choice, and then the two Sergeants would finally do whatever it was they were planning to really do. Or he could stay, and twart their plans.

''Hmph'' He grunted, nodding gruffly just once. Soap's grin widened, and put the bowl full of popcorn in his hands, and Ghost stood there, not really knowing what to do while the Scott grabbed another.

The microwave started beeping, and he almost stepped back, completely sure that it would explode and that it was all a ploy, but Gaz simply opened the door and opened the bag to drop the hot popcorn in the empty bowl, so that the three of them had a bowl each.

The two Sergeants sat down on the sofa, leaving the armchair for him. That's what Ghost preferred anyway, and the three of them were too big to share the sofa without being all over each other like a pile of rags.

''What are we supposed to be watching?'' The Lieutenant asked, a bit of scorn in his voice, obviously not really believing their story. But Gaz and Soap were just smiling like little, innocent kids while the Scot turned the smart TV on and inserted an USB.

''I downloaded one of the films I used to watch as a kid with my fam, and Gaz used to watch it too! So we thought we'd go down the memory road''

''Murder by Death'' Gaz laughed, his mouth already full of popcorn. ''Have you watched it, Lt?''

''Can't say that I have'' God, even the title was absurd. What did Price think these two idiots would...?

Crap

Price

The fucking old man (only older than him by a few years, but old nonetheless).

Ghost was tempted to stand up and go find Price so he could stuff his throat full of popcorn, but in that moment the film started and Soap and Gaz cheered like two idiots.

He would have smiled if it hadn't been so fucking stupid. But the smell of the popcorn, and the... nauseatingly, pleasantly domestic feeling that was creeping in while he observed the two younger men all giddy...

He'd stay for a bit. Just to make sure they would behave.

*

An hour later, Price was passing through when he heard laughter coming from the common room. Three voices.

One was Soap, laughing hysterically. Gaz's laugh was a bit quieter, but he seemed to be enjoying it just as much. And the third voice...

The Captain stopped in his tracks, just to listen to it a bit more. Simon's laugh, which he hadn't heard in years. He had heard chuckles, snorts, maybe a short barked laugh. But not that belly laugh that Price remembered so fondly and so sadly.

Smiling, he continued his way, satisfied. His own little plot had worked beautifully. He still got it.

[brewed-pangolin]

Pseudo Climactic

OG Soap MacTavish x Fem Reader

18+ MDNI Explicit Smut, Established Relationship, Alcohol Use, Intoxication, Reader turned into a pretzel, Slight Dom/Sub themes if you look closely, Absolute Filth

A/N: The continuous brainrot of Captain MacTavish carries on. I was supposed to drop this last night but had to partake in some New Year's festivities. Hope y'all had a fantastic night bringing in 2024, and that you didn't drink too much of the bubbly because...

Word count: 1.6k

Imagine trying to fake an orgasm with Captain MacTavish because you were too drunk off New Year's champagne.

You were currently folded in half, knees against your chest with strong hands pressing into the flesh of your thighs to keep you perfectly positioned for him against the continually whining mattress.

Soap MacTavish was lost. Mind blank and body in overdrive as he relentlessly thrusted his throbbing cock into your open and soaking cunt.

The lube was definitely doing its job. He'd come at you like a desperate and horny fiend and was well aware you weren't going to get wet enough for him.

He'd blame on it the dress in the morning.

You, on the other hand, were at complete fault for your currently doubled over disposition.

"Why'd ya got to wear that dress?" Soap whispered lowly against your ear. Snaking his hand around your waist to get a tight squeeze of your ass against the bar as you ordered yet another glass of champagne.

"Because I look damn good in it." You retorted, sliding your free hand down and over the supple roll of your hip. The tight, black sequin dress leaving nothing to the imagination as it hugged every voluptuous curve of your feminine form.

"Aye. Ya fuckin' do, lass. But donnae ya think ya'd had enough a-"

"Hands off."

You spat back, swatting his hand away as he tried to grab the glass from within your delicate grasp. Bringing the slender rim up to your lips with a confident smile. All while shooting him an arrogant glance over its circular base as its intoxicating effects coursed through your veins and into your consciousness.

"Easy, lass. Donnae make me pull rank on ya."

"Donnae make me pull rank on ya." You mocked deliberately, even as he narrowed his eyes at you.

His piercing cerulean stare gradually began to be shrouded by a heavy brow. The tight muscles of his jaw clenched while his hand glacially traveled from your ass the delve deeper between the flesh of your thighs.

"Keep it up, ya lit'le minx. An' I'll make sure th'ball ain't gonnae be th'only thing droppin' at midnight."

"Who says we gotta wait til midnight?"

Captain MacTavish was right. You were a little minx. And to solidify that fact, you grabbed your freshly filled glass of bubbly and pulled his hand out from between your legs.

Sauntering off as the steady thrum of the bar added to your already humming subconscious. Making you sway your hips like a sequin laced seductress, effortlessly gliding over towards the other end of the packed tavern to make a hasty exit.

You didn't bother looking back. Even amongst the cacophony of music and boisterous voices, you could hear the heavy cadence of his footsteps behind you. The very presence of the Captain made the air of the bar shift, forcing the crowd to part and allow for a more easily accessible departure.

"Like the parting of the red sea," you hummed quietly under your breath.

And as you made your way towards the open door, a sudden thought began to form in your drunkenly fueled mind. Bringing an overly confident smile to your lips as you placed the champagne glass on an empty table.

Soap MacTavish needed you. And he needed you now.

And goddamn, did he need you.

Yet just as his mind and body worked you like an overused sex doll, you were somehow still cemented in the mundane thoughts and trivial misgivings of reality. The endless glasses of champagne retaliating against your efforts to revel in his relentless pounding as continuous thoughts and regrets from the previous year perpetually flooded your mind.

"Goddamit, come on.." you managed under a heavy breath. Gritting your teeth, clenching your eyes shut to silence all senses and focus only on the feel of him.

You tried to let the world go. To lose yourself in the otherworldly pleasure that only this Scottish beast of man could thrust upon you.

But it was to no avail. Not even Captain Soap MacTavish, the love of your life and best lay you'd ever had could break the bindings of intoxicated actuality.

So you gave in.

You knew your body well enough to mimic the muffled whimpers and desperate gesticulations of an encroaching orgasm to a 'T'. Most men could never tell the difference.

Most men.

You were currently in the grips of giving an Oscar winning performance. Arching your back off the bed, eyes clenched and digging your nails into the flesh of your thighs, and putting on a verbal serenade that would put Meg Ryan to shame.

To put it lightly, your erotic enthusiasm knew no bounds.

And yet, just as you were about to reach the pinnacle of your climactic execution, he halted.

Full stop. System override.

Slowly, you opened your eyes. And when your gaze settled on him, you were met with an expression you had never come face to face with on him before.

Confusion. Resentment. But also, amusement?

"Wha' th'fuck are ye doin', lass?" He panted.

Gripping into the flesh of your thighs as a prominently furrowed brow etched itself onto his forehead. Only serving to accentuate his smug tone and inquisitive curl to his lips while his cerulean eyes threw daggers at you.

"John, I-"

"We're you tryin' to fake it on me, lass? Ya think I cannae tell the difference?"

"John, please. I-"

You were cut off yet again as he pushed himself inside to the brim. Filling you completely with his pulsing cock as he leaned his sweat laden, muscular frame on top of yours. Eyes rolling back in your head and forcing a moan to escape from the depths of your throat as he folded you into an incomprehensible pretzel.

"Ya cannae fake that shite with me. I ain't no one night stan'. I know yer body. Betta' than you, even..."

His hot breath fanned over the curve of your neck as he brought his lips down onto your throbbing pulse point.

That familiar, deep growling brogue vibrating against your flesh and acting like a blade to finally sever you from the tight champagned fueled grip of reality.

Letting out a drawn-out exhale, you felt your body steadily begin to relax underneath him. Pulling his densely built weight up just enough to let you breathe as his steely gaze raked over your trembling and contorted form.

"Tha's it. Now, wha' does m'poor drunken, needy lit'le lass need, eh? Ya wan' it slow? I can give it t'ya slow.."

Soap's words were like honey laced venom. Putting his full weight onto your folded legs once more, letting his hips gradually rock back and forth against your pelvis. A slow, languid movement of his stiffend length pumping into your heat that threatened to instantly pull you into the realm of his pleasured depths.

And just as you were beginning to settle into his unhurried rhythm, he forcefully thrusted himself back into you. Shoving your body into the mattress and pushing your head up against the headboard with a breathless gasp. Causing you to dig and claw your nails into the flesh of his shoulders as he threw his hips back to nearly pull out, only to vigorously throw himself back into your heat once more with a deep, resonating growl.

"Fuckin' hell, bonnie. Is this what'ya need? Wanna break in tha' New Year by breakin' th'bloody bed?"

"Goddammit, John," you managed with a groan in response. Gasping for breath as your mind try to play catch up to your body's ongoing pleasured torture.

"Maybe...somewhere, in between...just..fuck...get me off, baby..."

"Aye. I'm gonnae get ya off, ya needy lit'le minx. But yer gonnae have'ta promise me one thing."

"What?" you replied swifty in a breathless whisper.

The rumbling tremble of authority wrapped around his voice working you into a feverishly desperate mess, writhing underneath him as he brought his lips down to within inches of yours.

"Donnae ever where tha' fuckin dress in public again."

"Yes, sir."

"Tha's a good lass," Soap hummed quietly against your lips. Resuming the mind-numbing pace of his hips as you closed your eyes and let yourself finally give into sensual torment.

You spent the remainder of the night continuously moaning and bellowing his name from your overworked lungs, so much that so you knew you'd be hoarse in the morning. And Soap had had you twisted and bent over in such an array of contorted positions you'd more than likely put a hardened yoga instructor to shame.

By the end, you were so overstimulated and spent after your umpteenth orgasm that you could barely conjure up a single comprehensible thought. The effects of the alcohol long gone. All you could feel was the constant tingling along your skin accompanied by the distant thrum in your core as you slowly rode out the last waves of your final climax.

"You good, lass?" Soap asked, his tone more hushed and reserved as he laid comfortably on his back next you.

Ignoring the protest in your overused muscles to turn your head and steal a glance at him. His body glistening in sweat, the dim light illuminating him in such a way to accentuate the rolling and sculpted curves of his muscular frame.

"Yeah."

That one word was all you could manage on a hushed whisper. Letting your mind and body recover from what felt like hours of erotically fueled physical torture at the hands of the legendary Captain.

Within a matter of minutes, you could feel the tendrils of sleep beginning to wrap themselves tightly around you. Lazily raking your eyes over his blissfully spent form, giving your empty mind all the delicious morsels it needed to conjure up further scenarios you would throw at him throughout the next year.

And within these thoughts flooding your mind they're were two that were the most pronounced:

You would never wear that sequin dress out in public again. And you would absolutely fake another orgasm to truly push Soap MacTavish to his erotically fueled limits. Sans the champagne to truly revel in the entire experience.

Captain MacTavish Masterlist

@deadbranch @sofasoap @d3athtr4psworld @punishmepunisher @jynxmirage @homicidal-slvt @glitterypirateduck @obligatoryghoststare @mykneeshurt @astraluminaaa @writeforfandoms @simpingoverquestionablemen @thetrashpossum @havoc973 @kkaaaagt @shotmrmiller @haurasha @ang3lc @luismickydees

I know it's Monday, but I'm keeping the SSS tags because I'm the Soap Squad President and I do what I want. 💛🧼

[graveyard-party666]

BLOOD & WINE

Fears and thoughts

This chapter is pretty short, next one might be a bit bigger. I already have 3 other chapters ready but i thought I'll wait before posting.

I'm like one of those AO3 writers that disappear for some time and then come back with the craziest explanations. I have one too, but it's too much to explain. But I'm back. Working on a few other projects. A few demos are ready. Maybe even full cover will come out soon, who knows...

P. S. Yes, I'm still in my Schmalgauzen era, bless their souls.

Red is scared. Red is terrified even. Who wouldn't be in her place, when a big masked soldier follows you in a dimly lit military base? She knows she just needs to go see Captain Price, give him a few profiles she made, and leave, go home, drink some tea, cry a bit, eat something, cry a bit more.

Ghost is an enigma. He is a mystery in every meaning of the word. He doesn't speak much; he's just... there. He roams through the corridors of the base as he pleases, doing his thing. Not that Red knows what exactly Ghost is doing. And now they're going the same direction, probably to Price's office.

The woman was okay with interacting with Soap and Gaz. They are really sweet. They don't make it a challenge to talk to them nor do they make her walk on eggshells, afraid to say something that wasn't supposed to be said. Ghost, on the other hand...

He is a challenge. Red knew it from the beginning. He's not mean nor is he disrespectful in any way, no. Quite the opposite actually. Even his mask seems cool to Red. He is a responsible lieutenant, doesn't roll his eyes at Red when she gets lost on the base and asks him for help. He is reserved and closed off but never disrespectful. That's what makes it a challenge. A personal challenge.

Red is absolutely terrified. Soap has already joked that Lieutenant Ghost is too kind to the new psychologist.

"Why? You have a soft spot for civilian women? Maybe even for redheaded psychologists?" Soap's unbothered smile is still present on his handsome face, winking at the confused psychologist who now tries to blend in with the environment.

"If you were a newbie and a civvie woman at that, I would treat you the same," barked back Ghost, rolling his eyes. His accent is strong. Red feels like she isn't supposed to be here in the same room, listening to the soldiers' banter.

"I have a soft spot for people who don't bother me and are respectful," sighed Ghost, looking straight at Soap.

"Oh, so our lass here..." Soap started enthusiastically only to be cut off by Lieutenant.

"Don't you dare finish that sentence, MacTavish."

Soap only chuckled, shaking his head, not leaving the idea of being a bit of a wingman for his best friend.

So yes, Red is terrified. She and Ghost are both going to the Captain's office. He follows her not too far away from her, and she feels the whole awkwardness of the situation. When you want to know your colleague but don't know how to start the conversation. She feels stupid right now. Why is she afraid if he never was mean to her?

She looks behind where he is following; their eyes meet. The man probably was thinking the same question as her: are they both heading to Price?

"You are going to Captain?" Red asks the masked British soldier softly, not wanting to scare him away. Which is funny in a way because it is him who could scare her and a few others away.

"Yes, last report for today." his answer is short but not in a 'please, shut up, I don't want to talk to you' way.

"Isn't it a bit too much paperwork for soldiers on active duty?" The girl waits for the man to catch up with her.

"You get it, Red. Governments? Not so much." The answer came out oddly soft for the reserved lieutenant. "We need to fight the most dangerous terrorists on earth and then come back to base and write a bunch of reports. Well, me at least. Captain still has it worse."

Red chuckled, remembering seeing Captain with a big glass of whiskey outside working hours trying to fill all the needed reports.

"You are still the coolest soldiers, you know that, Ghost?"

Ghost's eyes met hers again. The small wrinkles around his eyes tell her enough about the fact that the masked man is smiling too right now. Well, isn't that a big win?

"You and your compliments..." Ghost chuckles, elbowing the girl slightly.

Red is terrified. But also really happy.

Tag list: @cloudofbutterflies92 @chloekistune @justasmolbard

[welldonekhushi]

The Gala

Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x Samantha "Scarlet" Wright (OC)

Timeline: What-if of MW3 ending without anyone dying.

Summary: Soap and Scarlet celebrate the victory together with their friends.

Warnings: All fluff, you've been warned!

It was the time of the gala, where everyone celebrated the success of defeating General Shepherd and Vladimir Makarov, the biggest threats of the world, and prevented the world from a war almost taking its place. Though they felt that things would have gone worse, but with the help of teamwork and dedication, anything was possible. The celebration was huge, happy and luxurious. Everyone gathered around in groups while talking and chatting about their success.

The threat was over, all were at peace and harmony.

The 141 were more happy about it. The SAS would never have reached their goal if it weren't for the task force. Ghost, Roach, Price and Soap were in their official uniforms, laughing, cheering and clanking their glasses with each other, taking a sip from their champagne in celebration. Suddenly, the commotion felt odd to the few, because someone was missing in the group who also played a vital role in their success.

"Wait, am I the only one who's feeling the same?" Roach asked.

"Like what? That the champagne feels funny?" Ghost jokes, and the others laughed.

"No, uhm. We forgot an um.. integral member here, remember? And.. they're not here yet." Roach hinted at the missing member in their team, as the soldiers held confusing glances.

The feeling was familiar for Lieutenant Soap a lot. Soon he realised that Scarlet didn't arrive at the party. He looked everywhere, including the entrance door, but couldn't find her. Roach just wiggled his eyebrows at Ghost, and he just nodded. Price is just suspicious.

"Wait, where is she?" Soap still looks around for her.

"Sergeant Scarlet? Oh, she told me she's coming, but it looks like she'd be running late." Roach smirked.

"Like the last time? At the obstacle course? Nah, she must be doing makeup." Ghost said.

"She isn't very fond of makeup. And don't make silly assumptions unless you know her well, Ghost." Soap rolled his eyes. "Well, I think I gotta look for the lass then, Roach, hold this." Soap leaves the group, and then both suddenly laugh like idiots. Price just raised an eyebrow, and didn't mind their business and kept on sipping on his wine.

Soap just looked around the hall, the other rooms, but couldn't find her anywhere. I guess she hadn't arrived yet. Where could she be this late? He kept on searching the other halls, hoping he could find Scarlet.

Suddenly, the entrance door opened, revealing a short, familiar looking woman, wearing the same official uniform like the others, with the beret on her head, and a little makeup and lipstick on her face. She truly looked beautiful in it. The three caught her attention through the doors, surprised that the Sergeant finally arrived. Looks like Soap left a little early.

(This is how she looks!)

She saw the three, in a group, looking at her as she quickly ran towards them, saluting hurriedly. "Good evening! Sorry, Captain. My ride came a bit late, so it took a while to arrive here."

"It's fine, at least the fire of this party is still on." Roach high-fived Scarlet, so she does it back.

"Careful to not burn it down then, Gary." She smirked, and Roach just gave her a sneaky smile. Suddenly, she looked around herself and then asked the others. "Wait, where's Soap?"

Price, Ghost and Roach hold glances at each other, knowing where this is going now. Scarlet was still confused, as she didn't know what they were gonna say.

"Uhm, he thought you hadn't arrived yet, so he went out to check on you." Price said.

"Wait, really? But, I came! Ugh, he really has a bad timing to leave before thinking about it, huh?" Scarlet sighed.

"Why don't you try finding him out yourself then? I'm sure he didn't go that far." Ghost gently smirks, and Roach just covers his smile while drinking his champagne.

"Alright, don't tell me I missed the whole party because I spent this whole time looking for him." She rolls her eyes.

"I mean, I swear he didn't go that far, and this party will keep on going, Scarlet. We'll have it reserved for you too, don't worry."

"Wow, thank you! I mean, I've been waiting for this moment and, you're not gonna let me celebrate, hell nah." Scarlet scoffs and then leaves too, looking for Soap.

"I guess they are gonna have a great time of hide and seek." Ghost jokes.

Scarlet walks through the long halls, looking for Soap, while he still too tries to find her around the building. This went on for like, straight eight minutes, going through countless rooms, floors and places..

Until they reach the balcony.

The moon was shining brightly, showing its beauty to the city which is still awake at midnight.

Scarlet arrived at the balcony, opening the door and seeing it all empty, feeling hopeless that Soap wasn't here too, but looked around the place for a while. The balcony had a designated area, with stylish tables with the candles and flowers in between, along with chairs, giving a pretty much decent and.. quite romantic atmosphere, because of the celebration. But, what else could have been the reason for this moment?

It was making her pleasant, and the cool air was good too. She closed her eyes, to embrace the feeling. Until she was suddenly distracted by a voice.

"Scarly?"

A voice she loved hearing, since she was a kid. The voice which comforted through her dark moments, and assured her everything will be okay. A voice she yearned to listen again, as her eyes fluttered open, and mouth slightly opened. Turning around, she saw Soap, looking at her only beloved.

Soap also looked at how she looked. In the uniform, bold, beautiful, pretty and—

"Oh god, I was looking for you everywhere!" Scarlet smiled, approaching Soap happily, who still kept his eyes stuck to her. She was too beautiful, and it was making him get lost in those pretty eyes of hers. He chuckles, and looks back at her.

"You're a pretty tough one to find out. I thought you wouldn't come?" Soap questioned.

"Oh, sorry I uhm.. my ride came a little late. Then a little traffic? Well, I was scared I wouldn't reach on time, but now.. I'm here!" Scarlet replied and laughed nervously. After a few moments, Soap just walks a little more close towards her, and they both stare at each other for a minute.

"Do you even know how good you look in this uniform?" He mentions, in a soft voice. ".. if it's okay to say this but.. you're sizzling hot in it."

They both laughed and Scarlet slapped his arm in nervousness. Damn, her friend won't stop being cheesy, eh? "Quit it. Next morning I'll be that same, typical Scarlet. Then say that again."

"You're not always that.. same, typical Scarlet ya know? You always looked beautiful in my eyes, simple as that." Soap stated.

"Oh really? Well, we fell in love so.. you're gonna say that, anyway."

"Are you questioning my love for you?" He said, in shock, and Scarlet panicked.

"N-no I wasn't! I mean.. I felt a bit insecure.."

"I don't want you to be like that, and I don't want you to refute my statement.. or else to shut you up I'll have to force my lips on—"

Everything went into a dead silence, when Soap almost spoke those words coming out of his mouth, and Scarlet herself was shocked at what he said. He had his mouth still opened, and hesitated to speak further but..

He just clears his throat and chuckles nervously, and keeps his hands in his pockets, looking at Scarlet with his loving eyes. "Anyways. You shouldn't say that to yourself. You're like one of the strongest and bravest woman that I ever met. I mean.. if it weren't for you back there, I wouldn't have opened myself enough, from the way you helped me through my insecurities. And the one who helped me is feeling the same?" He chuckled. "That's odd. When the man in front of you wants to make you feel loved, and treat you like a queen."

He wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her close. She felt her cheeks flushing red, when he did that, and it wasn't helping when her face was closer to his. "I want to make you like home. Like heaven. I won't let anything happen to you. Anything."

For a minute of silence, Scarlet casts her head down for a while, and then laying it on his chest, her hand travelling around it too. She inhaled the scent of her lover, mixed with cologne and some of his natural fragrance, pulling him into a hug. She was hesitant to talk about it, but still let it out.

"If I had lost you, I couldn't imagine how my life would have gone by. Who knew we were going to come this far, after many struggles?" Scarlet looks back at him, with her eyes filling tears now. "I.. I love you and.. nothing can ever separate us. Right?"

Soap smiled, and wiped off her tears, cupping his hands over her face. Since the gala music was going on, it sounded a little muffled but he didn't mind about that. He gently grabbed her hand, and they both began to romantically dance, like a couple. He held her hand while moving to the music, and didn't lose his focus on her. The dance kept on going, until the music continued, but when it ended, Soap pulled her close again, and Scarlet was left so lost in him.

He whispered in her ear. "Right."

He then leaned towards her face, softly and passionately kissing her lips. She too embraced the feeling by joining it, kissing him back. Their bodies connected to each, wrapped around and the kiss which brought more warmth. The moment was truly beautiful, as the two friends, now lovers, pull off from the kiss, and look into each other's eyes, filled with pure love and passion. Both confess that they need each other to survive.

Both then smiled and hugged each other again. Scarlet grinned happily while Soap held a relieved look, that now he found the way to everything in his life. Because now he has her.

"Can't wait when I finally have you all to myself." Soap said.

"Oh, please that time is still ahead." Scarlet replied, nervously chuckling as she still danced to his moves.

Soap then looked at his watch, and realised they should now join for the party. "We're getting late, the others might be waiting for us down there."

"Oh, yeah. I don't wanna miss this moment, let's go then!" Scarlet raises her hand, and Soap grabs it, and they both leave the balcony, heading down to meet back with the team, celebrating the rest of the gala.

[sofasoap]

SOAP FIC!!!!

then you came along, with your quick wit and charming smile, and he was a goner from the moment you first met.

OH, this is so Soap. love at first sight.

when he finally finds somebody, you're accompanied at all hours by one of the few things he fears.

*pat pat* its ok soap. you know, gotta face your fear one day??

"cheers, but i'll pass…" johnny attempts to protest, in the motion of taking a step back, but you grab his hand before he can escape and drag it down to your dog's face with an amused grin.

I can see Soap's soul leaving his body ----

"his name's rex." he hears you say, but the way your dog is sniffing at

:all of sudden i have that tv series Inspector Rex in my brain lol

he looks to you for help, but you're watching him with a mischievous grin that sends his heart aflutter.

SOAP SWOON

"price put you up to this?" he asks, holding back a flinch when rex looks up at the sound of his voice. "he did." you nod, standing back up and meeting his eyes again. "but rex actually does like you. guess you're just charming like that."

Price : go and get that muppet use to dogs. * sigh * OHHH Reader flirting with Soap * wink *

"but what i wanna know is, do you like me?" "hmm…" you feign indecision with a poorly concealed smirk, tapping a finger on your chin before leaning closer and placing a hand on his bicep. "i may need a little more convincing."

OH Soap, back to your flirty self eh? Reader isn't gonna back down with his flirting advance eh???

. it takes some coaxing from you, but eventually he gets comfortable enough to let rex take a treat from his hand. he may not admit it, but the only reason he even lets rex get so close is because you're there. simply your presence gives him the courage, makes him feel secure.

LOVE CONQURES IT ALL

"i'll take you out proper, treat you right." you blink at him, surprised, but not a moment later a wide smile is taking over your face. "i look forward to it, mactavish."

Smooth MacTavish Smooth, just like the 40 yr old whiskey.

the others, particularly gaz and ghost, give him hell for how infatuated he's become with you, but their teasing doesn't deter him.

Ghost : finally chance to tease him.

Soap doesn't give a fuck at all LOL ah, you are so in love MacTavish.

"no. i'm not leavin' without 'em." johnny growls, his face morphing into a frown as he brushes off the captain's arm and turns to go back inside.

aw soap...

"no!" johnny wails, ignoring the heat on his face and taking a shaky step over the jagged stone and glass that crunches under his boot, "no! they're still–" his voice breaks, "they're still in there, for fucks sake!"

😭😭😭😭 how heartbroken he must have felt... oh Johnny...

rex is alone. you're not with him. he doesn't go anywhere without you, and that can only mean one thing. the confirming thought alone shatters the dam completely.

Poor Soap, heart getting ripped open again....

"shit, stay with me, hun, i've got ye…" he mumbles, putting all his weight onto your stomach. "ghost! help me!"

They are ALIVE!! Good Boy Rex *ruffle *

johnny stays with the canine while you're in surgery and for the days you're asleep, making sure he's fed and allowing him to sleep in his room so he won’t be alone

Soap, oh you .. * teary * you are too nice and devoted to reader.

before the door can completely close, johnny catches a glimpse of gaz’s mischievous grin and groans, but he doesn't have time to yell at him before he’s out of sight and rex is distracting him by leaping onto your bed.

*thumbs up * good job Gaz

u want some pets too?" you chuckle, reaching over and dragging his head over to you by a hand on the back of his neck. "good job, johnny, you’re a good boy too." you coo,

UGH, UGH I wanna do that too to Johnny pleaseeeeeeeeeee

"don’t short circuit on me yet, soap, you still owe me a date."

yes Johnny, where you gonna take them? is Rex allow to come too? Thank you for the wonderful fic!!!!!

whatchya got, boy?

note: requested by @wetsocksinbed :D this fic came to me in a prophetic vision as soon as i read that ask, all i have to say is i was cackling maniacally while writing it. bon apetit.

pairing: john 'soap's mactavish x gn!reader

wc: 4.4k

summary: soap is scared of dogs, you're a k9 handler. your dog is good at finding bodies, he doesn't ever want him to have to find yours.

warnings: angst with a happy ending, canon-typical violence

ao3

soap has never liked dogs.

when people ask him why, he tells them that it's just how he is. he wasn't bitten by one, it's not a trauma response, he just doesn't like them, plain and simple. being in the military and having a phobia of dogs is like painting a giant red target on his forehead, so in the interest of not getting relentlessly made fun of, he keeps it to himself.

until recently, it hasn't been a problem.

then you came along, with your quick wit and charming smile, and he was a goner from the moment you first met.

price had given them your files, told them you and your partner are on loan to the one-four-one for the next few months while they track down a particularly slippery target. the term partner had initially disappointed soap, but then you'd both marched into the room with your heads held high, and he realised;

oh. your partner is a dog.

a german shepherd, to be precise. you're a canine handler, like the universe is playing a trick on him – he hasn't been genuinely interested in someone in god knows how long, and when he finally finds somebody, you're accompanied at all hours by one of the few things he fears.

he's about ready to give up on pursuing you before the briefing is even over, but as the others all stand and file out of the meeting room, your partner comes bounding up to him in all his fanged, furry glory and soap almost has a heart attack.

"he doesn't usually trust strangers," you told him as your dog sits at his feet and wags his tail so hard it might be at risk of dislocation. johnny’s moments away from bolting, the fear climbing up his nerves like constricting vines.

"lucky me, eh?" he smiles at you, which was honestly more like a grimace, but somehow you're not offended by his obvious dislike of your partner. you let out a laugh, and the sound is so melodic he almost forgets about the beast waiting at his heel.

"you can pet him," you grin knowingly, and soap gets the sinking feeling you've figured him out already, "he doesn't bite – not unless i tell him to."

"cheers, but i'll pass…" johnny attempts to protest, in the motion of taking a step back, but you grab his hand before he can escape and drag it down to your dog's face with an amused grin.

"his name's rex." he hears you say, but the way your dog is sniffing at his hand has every muscle in his body tensing involuntarily. he's mortified that you're seeing him react like this, he already knows he'll never be able to live this down once the others find out.

when rex chuffs and starts to lick at his hand, johnny feels like his soul might leave his body. the sharp teeth so close to his skin is so unnerving, the only thing stopping him from making a run for it is your soft grip still around his wrist.

he looks to you for help, but you're watching him with a mischievous grin that sends his heart aflutter.

"see? that wasn't so bad." you chuckle, crouching down next to your dog and thankfully taking rex's attention off him. johnny breathes a quiet sigh of relief, wiping his wet hand on his trousers as he watches you fuss over the canine.

you're endearing, and johnny has to admit that seeing you coo at rex like he's a baby makes him slightly less terrifying.

"price put you up to this?" he asks, holding back a flinch when rex looks up at the sound of his voice.

"he did." you nod, standing back up and meeting his eyes again. "but rex actually does like you. guess you're just charming like that."

"well, thank god for that…" johnny grumbles, his voice dripping with sarcasm. you laugh again, and with the way his pulse quickens, he can't help but send you a cocky grin. "but what i wanna know is, do you like me?"

"hmm…" you feign indecision with a poorly concealed smirk, tapping a finger on your chin before leaning closer and placing a hand on his bicep. "i may need a little more convincing."

after that, johnny can hardly keep himself away from you. 

whenever you're next to him he's got an arm slung over your shoulder, you’re always talking – texting when you’re apart – and any free time he has is spent following you around base, not unlike rex at your heel.

you ask him if he wants to watch you when you train rex, and initially he tries to say no, because he thinks seeing rex practising attacking people might break whatever spell you've cast that makes him not hate the dog; but you drag him along anyway, and he ends up being glad that you did.

it's fascinating, watching rex sniff a shirt from your hand and track down whoever it belongs to with expert precision. it looks almost like a game to the canine, the way his tail swings back and forth the whole time as he effortlessly completes any task you give him.

he finds the dummies you hide with ease, even when they're buried under piles of boxes and clothes and various other obstacles. johnny actually finds himself respecting the dog, which is shocking since a few weeks ago he never would've been able to handle even being in the same room as one.

you give johnny the treats to feed rex, which makes him nervous all over again when the canine looks up at him with wide eyes and all his sharp teeth on display. it takes some coaxing from you, but eventually he gets comfortable enough to let rex take a treat from his hand. he may not admit it, but the only reason he even lets rex get so close is because you're there. simply your presence gives him the courage, makes him feel secure.

"when this is over," johnny begins, hand twitching under rex's tongue and looking at you with such fondness it feels like his heart is about to burst, "i'll take you out proper, treat you right."

you blink at him, surprised, but not a moment later a wide smile is taking over your face. "i look forward to it, mactavish."

the others, particularly gaz and ghost, give him hell for how infatuated he's become with you, but their teasing doesn't deter him. he likes you, and he doesn't care if everybody knows it; you like him too, and that's all he really cares about.

now, sitting in the heli on the way to what they hope will be the final location for this mission, he was almost disappointed to be done with it. you were only on loan for this mission, so once they have their target, you'd be gone. he was hoping, optimistically, that once everything was said and done he could convince you to stay with the one-four-one. he was sure he could talk price into it, and though it was selfish of him, he just wanted you to stay by his side.

you're sitting next to him in the back of the aircraft, rex between your legs with his head resting on your thigh, staring up at johnny with those big brown eyes. without even thinking, he reaches a hand out and ruffles the fur on his head, earning a nudge and an adoring smile from you when he looks over.

"he might like you better than me," you tease, scratching behind rex's ear who was yet to take his eyes off of johnny.

"don't be jealous now, bonnie." he chuckles, returning the nudge to your shoulder. "you can have 'im on weekends."

you grin again and lightly shake your head, taking rex's face in your hands and bending over to press a kiss to the top of his head. "you love me the most, right boy?"

before long, the helicopter is landing and the five of you – plus rex – are following the captain out into the forest. it's cold when they exit the heli, night vision goggles highlighting the terrain through the darkness of the night.

the silence buzzes as you all stalk through the trees. johnny pays more attention to you than he should as you walk beside him, anxiety lighting up his nerves for how this mission will go.

as according to the plan, once the manor is in sight, you all split off into teams of two; him and ghost, price and gaz, and you and rex. he trusted you to do well, like you have been doing for the last few months, but he can't help the way his shoulders tense as he watches you disappear around the corner.

the building is guarded, which was expected of course, but they only had to take down a dozen or so guards until the place was barren.

the corridors were eerily deserted, bathed in a moonlit glow as johnny crept around the manor, following closely behind ghost with both of their heads on a swivel. the radio was quiet, by design for the mission plan, but somehow this time felt different, like they wouldn't hear him if he did call out.

it's the beeping that gives it away. so faint, he almost missed it, but his senses are sharpened like a blade – and as a demolitions specialist, he knows the sound of an explosive when he hears it.

johnny carefully pushes open the door to his right, scanning the room for any movement and finding none, but when his gaze lands on the centre of the room, his pulse skips a beat.

propane canisters, fuse linking them all together, and most concerning, a timer on top blinking at him; two minutes, ticking down with a sickening green glow.

"ghost," he calls, his voice hard and serious as the anxiety builds again, "it's rigged."

ghost steps into the doorway next to him, following johnny's arm as he points to the device.

"fuck." he spits, stepping back and clicking the radio on his vest, but no sound comes out. ghost curses again, looking back to johnny with a tense expression that the sergeant mirrors. "radios aren't workin' either. let's move, c'mon."

there's no room for argument in his tone, marching back the way they came with johnny in tow.

as they emerge back out into the night, price and gaz appear from around the corner, both lifting their goggles and approaching with concern evident on their faces.

"what happened?" price's gaze darts around behind them as he speaks, as if waiting for someone to jump out and attack.

"the place is rigged, we have to go." ghost explains, already moving past them and away from the manor.

the captain nods, gesturing for johnny and gaz to follow as he tries his radio with no luck, just like ghost. the pit of anxiety lingered, getting heavier by the second.

"move it, soap." price commands, a deep frown creasing his brow.

but johnny doesn't move. "hold on, where's k-9?" he asks, a frown of his own pulling his features downwards.

"radios are down, we don't have time to look for 'em." ghost calls over to them, earning a solemn nod from the captain, who tries to move him with a hand on his shoulder.

the radios are down, you have no way of knowing the building is rigged. there's no way johnny's about to leave you on your own in the blind, he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he did.

"no. i'm not leavin' without 'em." johnny growls, his face morphing into a frown as he brushes off the captain's arm and turns to go back inside.

"they might already be outside." gaz tries to reason, stepping in front of him and blocking him from the doorway. kyle's regretful gaze cuts through him, and there's the distinct feeling that everyone else has already given up on you. "we have to move, mate."

johnny scoffs. "fuck that! i can't just leave 'em!" he hisses, insulted by the very idea of leaving one of their own to fend for themselves. no, that's not how they operate, that's not how he operates.

a flash of anger shoots through him and he's about to shove past gaz, but before he can move, price is yanking him away.

"soap!" he growls, shaking him slightly as he grabs johnny's other arm. "get it together, you are not goin' back in there."

before he can argue, he's being grabbed by ghost and dragged away from the manor with him as the other two jog ahead of them into the treeline. 

"oi!" johnny shouts, struggling in the lieutenants iron grip, but to no avail. ghost practically drags him along as he digs his heels into the dirt, writhing in an attempt to escape and go back for you.

he's desperate, he can't lose you, not before he takes you on that date, he promised, you can't die yet–

johnny blinks, the deep, rumbling boom completely derailing his thoughts and starting a piercing ringing in his ears.

white hot fire bursts from the windows of the manor, showering the surrounding area in shards of glass and debris as the heat escapes the building in waves. 

no.

everything seemed to stop around him. ghost stopped trying to drag him away, the trees stopped blowing in the wind, he almost stopped breathing. the world pauses as the walls of the manor are engulfed in flames.

no.

johnny rips his arm out of ghost's grip and stumbles back towards the manor, his mind floating out of his body.

"no!" johnny wails, ignoring the heat on his face and taking a shaky step over the jagged stone and glass that crunches under his boot, "no! they're still–" his voice breaks, "they're still in there, for fucks sake!"

"johnny!" ghost shouts, grabbing him by the strap on the back of his vest and yanking him sharply away from the blaze. "they're gone." he mutters, purposefully avoiding soap's glassy eyes.

"shut the fuck up!" he cries, thumping his fist against ghost's chest and clawing at the arm holding him back. the tears spill from his eyes hard and fast, constricting his throat and blurring his vision.

he falls to his knees with his head in his hands and ghost lets him, the debris that litters the ground sharp against his flesh, but nothing compared to the pain in his chest.

it wasn't supposed to go like this.

you were supposed to come back, and he was supposed to take you out and give you a perfect date and he'd kiss you at the end of the night and now he'd never get to do any of that because–

you're gone. slipped through his fingers like sand into the ocean.

"c'mon, johnny." he hears ghost mutter, his voice distant even though he's right there, pulling him to stand by his arm. "let's regroup."

he doesn't struggle this time, shaking himself free of his lieutenant's grip and shuffling past him with his head hanging low. if there was a god, he's sure they're laughing at him by now. it all felt like some kind of cruel joke; give him hope by granting him someone to love after all these lonely years, and then rip you out of his arms before he can know the happiness you would bring him.

he and ghost don't get far before he hears the lieutenant stop in his tracks, but he doesn't care to know why, the hollow feeling in his chest won't allow him to.

"the dog…" ghost utters from behind him, an air of disbelief in his monotone voice. johnny freezes, a cold dread travelling up his spine as he hears the unmistakable sound of rex's claws padding towards them.

he turns slowly on his heel, fresh tears welling up in his eyes.

your dog is standing in front of him.

"rex…?" he calls softly, taking in the dust and ash and dirt and blood caked into his rich brown fur, illuminated by the fire still raging. rex barks, tilting his head like he's confused, and johnny falls to his knees again, uncaring for the way the rubble tears through his trousers and his skin. "no, no no no no–"

rex is alone. you're not with him. he doesn't go anywhere without you, and that can only mean one thing.

the confirming thought alone shatters the dam completely.

the sobs wrack his body and johnny gathers rex into his arms, hugging him tightly to his chest, burying his face into his thick fur despite the filth that coats the both of them. he whimpers and whines in johnny's ear, and the sound only makes his heart hurt even more.

a few months ago he never would've dreamed he'd be hugging a dog, but you changed that; you'd helped him work on his fear, and even if rex was the only one he could tolerate, it was still leagues better than what he could accomplish without you.

but now you’re gone, and neither of them have you to fall back on.

johnny sinks his fingers deep into rex's fur, sniffling pathetically because he may have lost you, but your canine lost his entire world and he would never understand where you went, why you left him all alone, why you weren’t coming back.

rex begins to wriggle in his arms, and soap knows he wants him to let go but he can't bring himself to. this dog is all he has left of you now; he would take care of your beloved canine, it doesn't matter if he was still terrified in the back of his mind.

after a painful few minutes, jonny regains the awareness to remember where they are and the fact that ghost is still watching him break down with the dog in his arms. with a trembling sigh, he loosens his hold on rex and pulls back, wiping a dusty hand over his eyes.

as he pushes himself to stand rex barks again, startling johnny with a jolt of panic before bounding back the way he came, away from him and ghost.

johnny frowns. "hey, don't run," he mutters, ambling after the canine as he pads backwards. every time johnny gets close, rex slips just out of reach before he can grab him.

ghost sighs, but allows him to go after the dog, keeping a watchful eye on them as they get further away.

the way he was running along and looking back to make sure johnny was following reminded him a worrying amount of how he acted in his training. the training where you would hide a dummy for him and johnny would reward him with treats when he led you to the fake body.

"no, no rex," except this time, the body wouldn't be fake. "please, boy, just come back…"

rex doesn't react to his pleading, determined to lead him to what johnny knows he’s found, but desperately wants to deny anyway. he tries to stop, to turn back and never have to face the reality of you being gone, but the canine won't let him. he takes johnny's trousers between his razor teeth and growls, deep and threatening, as he tries to pull him along.

the sound makes johnny freeze, fear clawing at the back of his mind as an instinctual reaction, but he blinks hard and pushes through it. "alright, i'm comin'..."

rex lets go once he’s sure he’ll follow again, trotting ahead with the occasional check behind him to make sure johnny was still there. he follows the canine past the rubble, through the treeline, and into the underbrush where the sick feeling in his throat only grows stronger.

he doesn't bother with the night vision goggles. the fire provides enough waving light for him to just about see where he’s going, and he really has no desire to see what rex is guiding him to.

johnny almost trips over him when the canine comes to an abrupt stop, his wide eyes trained on a bush to johnny’s left.

the dread pooling in his stomach becomes suffocating.

"wh…?" he swallows thickly, crouching down to rex's level and placing a hand on his back, feeling his laboured breath that matches his own. "...whatchya got, boy?"

rex barks and noses at the branches of the bush, before stepping backwards a few paces and looking expectantly between johnny and the shrub.

johnny stares at the bush. no amount of training could've prepared him for the terror he feels imagining what he’ll find on the other side of it. as if sensing his hesitation, rex barks again to spur him on, but it only makes his heart sink further.

his hand shakes as he reaches for the branches. there's a stutter in his heartbeat, a hitch in his breath, as he pushes them aside to reveal–

"bleedin' fuckin' jesus–" johnny cries, jumping through the foliage to couch over your weakened form, forgetting his fear all together as he ruffles rex's fur with both hands and a breaking smile when he barks again. "oh good boy rex! good boy, fuckin' hell!"

it's you, blood and ash smeared across your skin and your chest rises and falls in shallow breaths, and johnny's just so happy you're alive he can't think to be afraid when rex snaps at his hands in a misdirected effort to protect you. he presses both hands against the slice in your abdomen, using the few medical supplies in his vest to help stop the bleeding as the tears being to well again.

"shit, stay with me, hun, i've got ye…" he mumbles, putting all his weight onto your stomach. "ghost! help me!"

the rest is a blur.

they carry you to the helicopter, rex barking protectively between their legs the whole way until he can lay on guard between your legs on take off.

when they finally touch down back at base, johnny has to grab rex by the vest so the medics can carry you out, wrestling him away as he barks and whines in protest. johnny stays with the canine while you're in surgery and for the days you're asleep, making sure he's fed and allowing him to sleep in his room so he won’t be alone – despite how uncomfortable it makes him, and how little sleep he gets because of it.

it's four days until you wake up.

he's not the first to find out, but as soon as the words reach his ears he’d racing down the corridors and bursting through the infirmary doors with enough intensity to make you jump out of your skin. the sight of you sitting up and talking to price almost has his eyes watering again, but he pushes that urge down.

he approaches your bed more carefully, a wobbly smile pulling at his lips under your warm gaze. with an understanding look, price is patting him on the shoulder as he passes by and leaving the two of you alone with each other.

"aren't you a sight for sore eyes," johnny grins, taking a seat in the chair next to your bed and grasping your hand in his. a smile lifts your features as he brings your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss there as a heat rises in his cheeks.

"i could say the same, my knight in shining armour." you reply, moving your hand to cradle the side of his head and smoothing your thumb over his brow. he revels in the contact, the tension bleeding from his muscles under your touch. "where's rex?"

"he's fine, i made sure." he reassures you, and you let out a sigh of relief at his words, visibly relaxing into the pillows holding you up. "tried sneakin' him in here, but the nurses wouldn't have it."

a laugh escapes you, the sound still managing to make his heart feel light, even all these months later. "can't imagine why," you tease, gently nudging his head as he chuckles along with you.

it feels like a weight is lifted from his shoulders, finally having you with him again. his eyes flutter shut as the relief washes over him, and a minute passes where neither of you speak, simply basking in each other's presence.

there's a scratching sound at the door that interrupts the peace and quiet, and the two of you share a knowing smile. not a moment later, the door is being pulled open just enough for rex to slip through and skid towards your bed on the linoleum floor, wagging his tail at breakneck speed.

before the door can completely close, johnny catches a glimpse of gaz’s mischievous grin and groans, but he doesn't have time to yell at him before he’s out of sight and rex is distracting him by leaping onto your bed.

you wheeze as your canine braces his paws on your chest and begins his assault on your face, licking every inch of skin he can reach with a series of excited chuffs and narrowly missing johnny’s head with his swinging tail.

"hi rex! you saved my life, didn’t you boy?" you giggle, affectionately ruffling his fur and planting kisses of your own on his face. "who’s a good boy? who’s the best sniffer dog ever?"

johnny clears his throat, drawing your attention to him as you cuddle rex to your chest. "i don’t want’a blow my own horn here, but i saved yer life too…" he gives you that lopsided grin, a playful glint in his eyes that makes you laugh again.

"you want some pets too?" you chuckle, reaching over and dragging his head over to you by a hand on the back of his neck. "good job, johnny, you’re a good boy too." you coo, pressing your lips to his forehead and the tip of his nose as you ruffle his mohawk like rex’s fur.

the effect is immediate. his cheeks burn again with a striking red blush, and he chokes on his breath in bashful embarrassment under your ministrations. he hopes you haven't noticed his reaction, but the way your laugh bubbles up again he can tell you’ve caught on.

"i think i like that more than i should, bonnie." he mutters, pressing his forehead against yours and allowing his eyes to flutter shut. you hum sweetly, your warm breath fanning over his face.

"don’t short circuit on me yet, soap, you still owe me a date."

tagging: @cheezbites

[trashiewrites]

Symphony

(Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader)

(I'm B A CK AND WITH A FIC TO SHOW MY RETURN!! I have a job as well as college so writing these haven't been my priority! but I'm glad to be back)

Life has always been simple, wake up, train, eat, work, sleep. That was the just of it. Working with the 141 I've surely seen my fair share of atrocities. I've done so much but there is just something missing. I stared out the window, the sky shined the dark blue littered with shiny white stars.

I tilted my head, taking note of my slight reflection in the glass. "I look so tired..." my brown eyes seemed unamused by it all, the day-by-day routine I've been living in for god knows how long. Either way, no use dreading on it I suppose.

I held my mask in my hands. The marks and scratches that were lightly scattered in the fabric told stories. "We've been through so much, haven't we, old friend?" I glanced at the time, '11:30' "I should sleep... big day, as usual." I gently folded up my mask, placing it at my bedside. Turning off the lamp and lay down on the bed. Letting sleep overtake my senses. ____________________

"Alright! Fall in and settle down." Captain Price spoke loudly over the crowd. From what I hear they have some news, perhaps a new op briefing announcement? I look around someone seems to be missing.

"I wonder where MacTavish is..." I whispered it under my breath. 'Must be doing his own thing I suppose.'

"You've got something to say Ghost?" I stiffen slightly, caught by surprise by the captain's callout.

"I'm just curious on where MacTavish is Captain."

"Well, I'm right here Ghost! Ya miss me or something lad?" The platoon slightly chuckled, quickly silenced by Prices piercing gaze. "Anyways, 141 I have someone I'd like to introduce." Next to MacTavish was a woman who stood there proudly. Yet if you knew where to look, you'd be able to tell she was nervous.

"I'm (Y/N) (L/N)! My specialties are Infiltration and Computer science!" MacTavish wrapped an arm around her shoulder and smiled at all of us.

"To put it, we have our own resident Hacker!" MacTavish took a step forward. "Besides that, we are having a briefing tomorrow in the morning. So training will be moved to the afternoon. Any questions?"

"No Sir!" We all yelled in unison.

"Good, Fall out!" As I was about to turn and head out a hand grabbed my shoulder. "You ain't free yet Ghost. I have to talk to you."

"Is this a personal matter sir?"

"I'd say 50/50 on both categories." Captain smiled as he opened the doors to the captain's offices.

"John! You jerk! You just had to but me on the spot like that!" From inside the room, I could hear the newbie.

"Hey hey! Relax, I have a guest! Yell at me later (y/n)." I walk in from right behind and well her expression quickly changed.

"Why didn't you say that sooner..." she looked away from me, crossing her arms.

"Cause you were busy yelling." I held back a small chuckle, yet in that girl's eyes, I see the urge of wanting to punch him in the face. I'd have to admit, for being new she getting really close to the captain. "Anyways, (y/n) this is your lieutenant, Ghost. He will be training and getting you up to speed."

"What? Why?"

"Ghost, me and Price are busy with work, and I trust you to get my cousin up to speed."

"Cousin?" Well, bo wonder they are so comfy with each other, they're related... "makes sense, bit captain. I mean no disrespect sir but I really don't have time to balance this all out."

"Uh.. lieutenant?" I looked back to see her, hand extended. "I'm really excited to work with you in training. I understand if you are too busy, surely I can catch up by learning from the others!" Her smile... it's adorable... 'cut the shit, Simon.' I sighed, I'll just admit defeat this time. I honestly feel as I can't say no, then again, something is telling me I shouldn't.

I sighed, "fine, I'll train her..."

"I knew you'd come around to it!" MacTavish smiles, him heading to the door. "Now you two have a lot to do! I suggest getting to know each other a bit first!" It's what I'd describe as being informally kicked out of his office. As we stood outside the door silence filled the air.

"I'm really sorry... John has always been a bit of jerk sometimes." I turned over to see her looking embarrassed, frustrated even.

"No need to stress about him kid, I know what he's like. I've been working with him for years." I took her shoulder into my hand gently turning her to face me, "Above all else, he is an accomplished leader. Now, we have a lot to do kid."

"R-right!" I'm not sure what was running through my head but I grabbed her hand. Once I realized I quickly let go.

"Uh sorry... that was improper of me." I need to silently beat myself up for this later. 'God! What is wrong with me today...'

"Ahh, no it was fine lieutenant! No worries! No harm is done"

"R-right, let's go." I continued, pulling my mask up. Hopefully, my face is covered so no one can see this mess.

_____________________

I looked from across the track, watching as the timer ticked each second. It's been a few months and she's grown a lot stronger, and much more confident. She's been pushing herself hard to beat her kilo run time, maybe too hard.

I care for her, I really do. More than I do for even my job, which is a lot. I've been noticing it a lot recently. It's a feeling that honestly scares me. Yet it's not like I can ignore it...

The tiny little details, the bounce of her (h/c) hair, the (e/c) eyes filled with a fierce spark. That welcoming smile and even the way she talks. "Done!" Instinctively I pressed stop on the timer and there she was, wiping beads of sweat off her forehead. "How did I do lieutenant?"

"8:45, good job (y/n)."

"Yes! I beat my personal record!" she wrapped he arms around my waist, resting her head upon my chest. "Thank you, lieutenant, I couldn't have done it without you."

"What are you talking about kid... You did this all yourself." She backed off ever so suddenly, seeming surprised over what I said.

"No, really! You encourage me to be better!" She smiles, grabbing me by the hand, "you are honestly the best lieutenant. I couldn't ask for anyone else to train me."

"I-I'm... glad you feel that way." I didn't really know what to say afterward. my heart was beating fast and blood rushed to my cheeks. I honestly felt like I was gonna say something stupid. "Uhh... I believe that good training for today. How bout you head back and rest."

She groaned, stretching her arms over her head. "I suppose so, I did really push myself. I shouldn't overwork myself. I'll see you around Simon!" As she walked off, I headed into the field. I sat down taking a gander at the sky. I took a deep breath; my chest was heavy, my heart was racing. Yet, the sky seemed to look a little brighter, and the cool breeze kissed the exposed parts of my face. Hopelessly, my mind drifted into memories of the past few months.

"Ghost! Lieutenant!" (y/n) rushed over to the masked man.

"Woah! Settle down there, is there something you need?" A chuckle escaped him, holding her still by the shoulders.

"I was hoping we can do range practice today, sir! I've been training hard, and I want your input!" Her face filled with a sense of pride mixed with determination. He loved that part about you; failure isn't a word.

'It's not a failure to me, sir! Just a slight setback; that's all!'

The memories brought warmth to me... Maybe I should admit it to myself; I'm in love. Love, that's something I haven't felt in so long. "Maybe that's why it feels so sweet..." I spoke to myself. In the distance, I hear the slight crinkle in the grass. Behind me, she came "(y/n)!" 'Shit! I sounded too excited!' "I thought you were gonna rest?"

" I was going too, but I realized I wasn't that tired." she smiled brightly as she stood next to me. "So I decided I was going to ask to hang out with you; not for training though... mind if I sit?"

"no, not at all. Help yourself to the comfy dirt." She laughed as she sat down; I made her laugh! God, I forget just how childish love can make you. Yet, it's the best I've felt in a while.

"You know Lieutenant; you'll never believe what happened as I was looking for ya!" She went on to talk about something funny happening to Roach that she was able to witness. While she was telling it, she could barely hold in her laughter. Due to that, I couldn't help but laugh. She froze in place, slowly looking at me.

" You okay (y/n)?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I-I just have never heard you laugh like that before." I turned my head away from her. "I wanna hear it more... like that." I close my eyes and raise one hand to lift up my mask. We both sit in a moment of silence. My head was on the edge of its sanity trying to keep it from overheating.

Despite that, words just flew out of my mouth. "(Y/n)... How do you know when you're in love?" My voice, those words, flew gracefully in the wind. In return, I hear an audible hum from her.

"That's a rather odd question coming from you lieutenant." I glance over to see her fiddling with her fingers, "Maybe this is just me, but, I guess when you are in love you kinda just want to spend every moment with or thinking of that person." She lifts to hug her knees, hiding a bit of her face as she continues, "I personally get scared to ever be around that person... I really shouldn't be..." she clears her throat and I take her words into thought. "But do you like someone lieutenant? That must be why you're asking!"

"Well... Wait, why do you sound so surprised by that?!"

"Well to be fair Simon, you don't seem like the time to have time for that sort of thing." She leaned back resting her arms behind her, "You have a lot on your plate, you know, with work and all. You just, well I- I mean anyone would have thought you really never had the time to think about that." Her tone of voice grew quiet.

"Well... I am never one to beat around doing the bush." I stood up from where I was seated and extended my arm to help her up. "Why don't you stand for a minute dear." She placed her hand in mine, staring at me cluelessly. I took a deep breath, taking a moment in time to do some last-minute pondering. With my other hand, I lift my mask off my face, I feel my cheeks begin to burn as she audibly gasps. I closed my eyes, letting my heart sink into every word,  "(Y/n), when I'm around you the sky seems brighter and my heart skips a beat. It's been a long, long time since I've felt like this. I never thought id feel this way again. I love you, you make my once simple song sound like a symphony." Coming back to my senses, I was holding her hand tightly. I stared at the ground waiting for a response.

"Simon, look at me." She whispered, she placed her hand on my cheek. I look at her to see a wide smile and her eyes on the brink of tears. "I love you too, I'm so glad you feel the same way..." a wave of relief washed over me, a rush of euphoria alongside it.

"Yes! Yes yes yes yes!!" I grabbed her by her waist and lift her in the air, twirling around. She laughed, wrapping her arms around my neck. "I was so scared to even say it..." placing her feet back safely on the ground.

"So was I, I'd never thought you'd like someone like me." She hugged my chest tightly. I placed my hand upon her head, while the other began to slide my mask back on. I was caught by surprise when (y/n)'s handheld my mask hand from going down. "You think you're going to put on that mask before a kiss?" She pulled my arm down bringing my face inches from hers.

"You like it direct?" I chuckled, "I don't mind that~" our first kiss was sweet and sincere, soft yet loving. Even if it was just a few seconds, I felt as if I could stay like this forever. As we parted, I stared deeply into her (e/c) eyes. She took my mask and finished putting it over my face, letting her hands linger on my cheeks.

"We should probably head back to our bunks."  She walked a step ahead and I followed behind.

"The nights still young! What's your rush dove?" She laughed turning herself around to face me. She extended her arm and laid a finger on my lips.

"Cause we have work tomorrow, Lieutenant Riley." I shook my head, smiling under my mask. I went to her wrapping my arm around her.

"Alright then, let's get you to bed. You need your beauty sleep."

"Hey!" she laughed as we continued on walking as the sun slowly disappeared behind us.

[flatlinedgamer]

First Impressions: Korbin

First of my two OCs. Some things are bound to be messed up because Grammarly seems to have shit the bed.

Relevant Info:

Name: Gunnery Sergeant Korbin ‘Zombie’ Montgomery

Age: 32

Hair: Brown, dyed bright red

Eyes: Dark Blue

Occupation: USMC Scout Sniper

-------

When General Kirrahe volunteered me for Task Force 141 my only thought was ‘What the fuck do they need me for?’ One-Four-One already employed several Marines. I’m a Gunnery Sergeant in the U.S. Marine Corps. My specialty is unit training and I’m well on my way to First Sergeant but I’m assuming that’s not what they’re after.

No, they probably want me because I’m the Scout Sniper that dies and walks it off. They call me Zombie. I’ve been clinically dead twice, technically died on the operating table twice, and nearly bled out enough that I stopped counting. My name is well deserved.

One-Four-One had already been operating for a few months when Kirrahe called me in to talk to him. The man wasn’t unknown to me. I’d known him personally since I was a kid and he was a factor behind my joining the USMC. Not because I thought I’d have an easy time serving under a family friend. That wasn’t what Kirrahe was about. He expected more from me than he did most people.

I joined the Marines because I wanted to do something that mattered. It didn’t matter if I was protecting a group of refugees or putting a bullet in a terrorist cell leader’s skull. I wanted to be the good I sought in the world. Too bad I turned out to be such a shit person. There’s a point where you stop being bothered by death. Where taking a person’s life doesn’t make you shake, puke, or feel guilty. I’d reached that point years ago and there was no turning back.

That’s not to say I don’t still have nightmares and other… issues. But good, sane people don’t smile when they have a target in their rifle sights and pull the trigger. I’m not a good person. General Kirrahe knew that about me when he sent me to One-Four-One. What I am, though, is loyal. To my fellow troops out in the field with me and to Kirrahe.

The base I arrived at really wasn’t anything to write home about. I’m sure my cousin in the Army had seen pretty much the same thing in his own posts. It didn’t matter. I was on loan and likely would only be around long enough to take out whatever target they needed a bit of extra help with. Then I’d be on my way home to Fort Moore in Georgia until I went on leave.

Captain Price was an interesting man but he had a lot on his plate. He had just enough time to tell me to hunt down Captain John MacTavish. One captain is as good as the next, I guess. Price told me to ‘look for the muppet with the mohawk’. Whatever the hell that means. It didn’t take me long to find him.

“Captain MacTavish,” I called as I neared where he stood with several other men.

MacTavish turned around with a confused expression before finally looking down. He was least a foot taller than my five two frame. He stared down at me. “Can I help you, lass?” He finally asked.

“I’m Gunnery Sergeant Korbin Montgomery,” I said without missing a beat and holding my hand out to shake his. “They call me Zombie. Captain Price told me to come find you.”

“Aye,” MacTavish said, shaking my hand. “Call me Soap. Though, you’re not quite what we were expecting.”

I sighed. “You were expecting a man closer in height to yourself. Not a tiny Southern woman.”

Soap nodded.

“It’s fine,” I said with a grin. “I wouldn’t expect me, either.”

Another man in group spoke up. This one wearing a balaclava with a scull on it and sun glasses over his eyes. He’s just a tad bit taller than Soap. If I had my S.A.S. insignias correct he was a Lieutenant. “Why do they call you Zombie?”

“I’ve died or nearly died more times than I care to count,” I answered honestly. “Zombie is shorter than ‘that one sniper that dies and walks it off’. Besides, I hate being called Gunny.”

“Sounds like you’re just bad at your job,” he scoffed.

“Ghost,” Soap warned.

“Ghost?” I questioned with a raised eyebrow and a slightly feral smile. “So you died once and never came back from it? I at least keep coming back to piss people off.”

He stood there, silent, before he finally spoke. “Fair enough. I’ll give you that one.”

“Look,” I said slowly, spreading my hands out in front of me in a placating manner. “I’m not here to make enemies. I’m just on loan. I’ll do what I need to do and then I’ll fuck off back to Fort Moore. I’m generally pretty easy to get along with. I realize I’m not for everyone. Not everyone needs an angry hamster as a friend.”

Ghost snorted and shook his head. “You’re alright, yank. I’m sure we’ll get along fine.”

I had a feeling I was going to like it that shitty base.