#cod johnny mactavish

[ilostthewar]

When it comes to our 141 boys, who’s the best at cooking? No trigger warnings for this one.

You know it’s Kyle, YOU KNOW ITS KYLE. LOOK AT THIS MAN. He learned to cook growing up and his skills kinda just naturally grew. He definitely used it as a flirting tactic in his fuck boy era, but I imagine he really does enjoy cooking. He gets to play music and vibe around the kitchen, it’s relaxing in a unique way he often isn’t allowed. He can be a little boujie when he wants to be, and he enjoys making different cultural and ethnic dishes he doesn’t get to have on base. He also enjoys the plating and picking good drinks to go with them. Definitely posts pictures of his meals when they turn out the way he wants. Soap will inevitably comment “I’m on my way”, and then an hour later Soap posts a picture of him in Gaz’s house eating his food, way too excited about it and Gaz is in the background glaring at him cause Gaz gave him specific instructions on what drink to bring, and Soap comes over with the same bottle of scotch he always does.

Next, surprisingly, Simon. I imagine when he was younger he didn’t care at all. He would probably steal MREs and just horck em down because sustenance was sustenance, whatever was cheapest and easiest. Very much a bottle of ketchup, 3 beers, and a gun in his fridge type guy. As he gets older, and after therapy that he swore he didn’t need, he probably succumbs to it and tries. Realizes he needs to put effort into the whole “being alive” thing, and cooking just happened to be the thing he tried, especially since as he gets older he realizes he can’t force down half a pizza at 2am and not get heartburn. It’s medative for him, honestly. It’s a low stakes task for him to accomplish, keeps his mind and hands busy. There are clear steps to follow, maybe a video if he’s really confused. And at the end, he’s made something good that he gets to eat. It doesn’t always look the best but he always feels oddly proud about it. He’ll complain if anyone is in the kitchen with him, he hates that shit, actually. But he does like presenting something he made and watching other people enjoy his work. He will stare at people while they eat, and forget to eat himself at first, cause he’s trying to figure out if they actually like it or they’re lying. Unfortunately, it just looks like he’s glaring at you… he will pack you left overs to take with you.

Next is John, what can I say. He’s pretty okay at cooking. He’s not fucking anything up horrendously and most of his food comes out good enough. It simply wasn’t a skill he put a lot of effort into when he was younger. However, there are a few dishes that are his speciality that he nails every time and if his goal is to impress, he pulls them out. Also, he’s out here barbecuing. He’s such a fucking guy about it, too. Stands by the grill, has a whole marinade/seasoning situation that he insists is secret, he stole it off the back of a bbq bottle. Does NOT want anyone to mess with his meats, he’s in control of the grill, don’t touch, his control freak comes out. However, if you linger nearby too long you get dragged into a conversation about “protecting the integrity of the meat” whatever the fuck that means.

And at the bottom is poor Johnny. To be fair, it’s not exactly his fault. One of his issues is that he gets distracted easily, especially with cooking that requires wait times between steps. When he’s at home and his brain is allowed to relax he’ll walk away and then get caught up with something else and come back and remember he was supposed to be toasting the nuts, not burning them. He always wants to experiment with cooking and unfortunately it doesn’t always work. He takes the instructions as a suggestion and ingredients as suggestions, throws in seasonings where they aren’t needed or decides to pull something from the cabinet and toss it in. I think he’s the king of “I don’t know why but it works” combinations, and others will try to turn their nose up at it until they try it, and then they have to admit he was right. I do believe he is GREAT at being a kitchen partner. Give him a little task to do and he’s having a great time, does have a habit of always being in the way, but part of that is because he’s so fucking bulky. The funniest part is he is hilariously great at baking, cause that’s just chemistry and art and he’s great at both of those.

[capitanoidyll]

y/n: imagine carrying a child for 9 months only to name them john.

john: *cracking his knuckles*

johnny: *whispering to ghost* do i count towards that, too?

ghost: dunno, better go fight them to make sure.

[stargirlstabber]

call of duty and incorrect quotes; #5

Simon and Y/n: *physically fighting each other*

Johnny: This isn’t what I meant by 'express your feelings!!'

[weirdwizardofoz]

Y/N: Hey cap?

Price: Yeah?

Y/N: How long can someone breathe in a washing machine while it’s running?

Price: Now, why would you wanna know that, kid?

Y/N:

Price:

Price: WHERE’S SOAP?!

[pearldog30]

Blood stain

The story involves is going to be a very heavy one. This one is about our Johnny boy. After he gets back home from missions, all the dark stuff he's had to do/see finally catches up with him. And (This is not a ship between them! This is a friend helping a friend. If any of the stuff below is too heavy please don't read this!) Sorry if this is shit, I literally just came up with this on the spot.

Johnny mactavish x Simon Riley.

18+

Other works 👉Master list

Warnings| angst, alcohol abuse, self-harm, blood, mentions of suicide, mentions of children death, mentions of killing, PTSD attack, PTSD.

As Johnny sits on the floor with a knife in one hand, watching the blood gush out from his arms. Hoping he can just focus on the pain, and forget about what happened. But it doesn't cut it, nothing seems to cut it anymore. The blood that stains his hands, that can never be washed off. it makes him hate himself more.

there's already two whole empty bottles of scotch sitting next to him. but yet he's still somehow sober watching the scenes in his mind replay over, and over, and over again. Like it happened yesterday, he remembers detail, by detail. he can never forgive himself for what happened that night, and it is still eating him alive. No killing him alive.

2 weeks ago.

Before the shadows betrayed him, and 141. they were sent on a mission to clear a Bass, to make sure the drug cartel wasn't in the area like they thought they were. they put Johnny on sniper lookout.

He's sitting on top of a rock watching over the base, and the guys as they go into clear the base. and it was successful, until! Everybody had practically left. but there was still a few soldiers there keeping watch, and Johnny was told to watch over them for safety measures. When out of nowhere a child no more than 12, came running at the soldiers with a rifle in hand. he could see the child was scared, and like was being forced to do this. now yes Johnny was told to kill on any threats. but this, this was not a threat, this was a child being forced into it. and he wasn't going to pull the trigger, so he called it into the general.

Johnny: general Shepherd, there's a kid with a weapon-

Shepherd: you know the rules, any enemies shoot to kill.

Johnny: but Shepherd this is a chi-

Shepherd: Sergeant you're under my watch, if any of my soldiers died, that blood is on your hands. and you're getting your patch taken away, SHOOT. TO. KILL.

Johnny quietly thanks to himself contemplating, if it's even worth it keeping his patch. but before he can contemplate for too long. he sees the soldiers are already holding their hands up to this kid, and he has no choice but to shoot.

He looks through the scope, and right before he pulls the trigger. as if someone told this child he looks directly at him an-

Back to the present.

Right at that moment he's pulled back into the presents. hands shaking, covered cold sweat mixed with blood. he's hyperventilating, struggling to catch his breath. He puts his head in his palms, the smell of his own blood, somehow making him go back into that moment, he can never escape.

Looking around him seeing the floor, and his pants, and shirt, are covered in blood. he's ashamed to himself. He thinks deep down he's a coward ,and not a good soldier. and he really contemplates if it's even worth it anymore. he can't live with the thought of what happened. he can't live with himself. The death, pain, he's inflicted on others is finally catching up to him. He feels guilty, that could have been someone's son, brother, nephew. and all he wants to do is apologize, and beg for forgiveness. but it's too late now. Hell not just to the kid, to all the men he's killed. he hopes that in the afterlife there is some forgiving God/universe.

Getting lost in his thoughts, he decides to patch up his arm. and take an absurd amount of sleeping pills, to Hopefully run away from the night terrors. to get a good night's sleep for once.

The next morning, he wakes up with a migraine. and the smell of blood filling his nose. He looks down remembering what happened last night, sign to himself, shaking his head. He hears a knock at the door, confused he looks at the time on his phone.

3:24 p.m.

Message from, Ghost.

Johnny get up I'm here.

Dude I've been banging at your door for the past 10 minutes! get your ass up, we're going to miss the game.

Slowly getting up he nearly falls, but he catches himself on the nightstand, wobbly catching his balance again. he catches a glimp of himself in the mirror, and he looks like shit. If hungover was a definition of a person, it'd be him in this moment.

But he gets his shit together, and puts a clean long sleeve shirt, with some pants. to cover up the evidence of what happened last night.

He gets to the door to greet ghost, "heyy sim-" Johnny gets cut off holy "fuck you look like shit. what the hell happened to you sergeant" Simon cuts him off, with a concerned look. "Ayy.. you know just got a little too carried away with the drinking" he laughs it off, hoping Simon won't notice. but Simon does, Simon notices everything. and it makes him worried, cuz he's been there. and he knows how dark it is, but he also knows not to push, an intervene.

He lets Simon in the house, as he brings in some classic bourbon with him. to watch the game, and enjoy each other's company. Simon was always been a man of taste. "Soo ahh... You want to have a seat get the game turned on." Johnny says jokingly, hoping to get rid of the awkwardness. And without response Simon does as told and pours them both a glass of bourbon, as they sit back, and watch the game start. After a little while Simon asked to use the restroom, and when he walks in he's shocked by the scene before him. The smell of iron filling his nose. The scene of what real, vet PTSD looks like. blood staining the floor, along with the knife used in the activities, the empty bottles of bourbon still there. everything on how he left it, the exact same.

We all know Simon hates to bring up mental health, and talk about it. but he just can't stand by and watch his friends slowly killing himself alive. so he swallows his pride of being the big, cold, rough, killer, he is. He walks back in to where Johnny is, and takes hard, deep breath. "Uh.. Johnny. do you want to talk about what happened last night." and with those sentences you could hear a pin drop in the room. Frozen in place, Johnny looks down ashamed to himself. that his friend had to see the darkest parts of himself.

johnny nervously laughing to himself. but Simon is still dead set, giving him that classic deadpan stare even. "I- uh. Haven't been doing the best since I got home" Johnny chokes on that sentence, not wanting to get the words out. and come to realization that he's not okay. Simon just shaking his head along, not saying a word to interrupt him. now Simon might not be the best at this. but he's always willing to lend an ear to his close friends no matter how dark it is. Looking back up, catching Simon's eyes. he may have a dead expression, but his eyes say a million words to Johnny.

"you know ever since that mission... at the base. it's eating me alive, I can't do this anymore." Johnny chokes out. Now Johnny's usually not emotional, but he's been bottling this pain up for so long. he can't take it anymore, the glass is starting to break into a million pieces. and he can't control the waves of hurt, pain, hitting him all at once. Simon stops him with a quiet, "I know" not needing to explain anymore. Simon understood his pain better than anybody. He knows how hard it is talking about this stuff. "You know Johnny. the drinking, The cutting, it's not going to resolve that pain. it's going to make it worse, I'm not no therapist. but please get help" Simon says through a shaky breath, he's not good at words but he's trying for his friend. He's trying to say it in his own way, that his friend means so much more, and there's so much more life to him than, that darkness that's eating at him.

Johnny has always been the light of the room, and seeing that light finally died down. it pain Simon. cuz these 2 are polar opposites, Johnny is the Sun, that gives light, and warmth, to the world. and Simon is the moon, that reminds the world that it's okay to be quiet, and to die down, for a little while. And seeing that the sun is finally burning out is not good. They complete each other in a way. because without the sun, we wouldn't know there is a moon.

And the memories come flooding back to Johnny, it breaks him. he tells everything to Simon, not realizing that getting it off of his chest, and talking about it, is something he actually needed.

"an-d you.. know.. I wish I was pulling that trigger at myself.. and not at the kid, he didn't deserve that... he had a life to live, I already lived my life" Johnny says through tears. And this makes something in Simon get up, and come next to his side. giving him a gentle, pat on the back. "It wasn't your fault. you didn't have a choice" Simon says reminding him. Looking at each other, giving each other a understanding nod. Telling each other that they understand each other's pain, on a much deeper level. without actually expressing it, means the world to those 2.

Not realizing the time has passed. Johnny gets up to walk him to the door because it's late, but Simon doesn't move. "Johnny I can't let you be here by yourself. Not tonight." Johnny didn't have the energy, or the mental being to fight with Simon on this. so he just decided to agree and not fight with him on it.

And that's going to be the end for this. like I said this is probably shit, and I might delete it later. but this just came to my mind. and I had to write it, I know it's a dark topic. but I felt like it should be brought to light more, on how dark the stuff they suffer/go through is, I feel like it's not talked about enough. As always I hope you're having a good day/night wherever you are. reblogs, and comments are always appreciated 🖤

[writersdrug]

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish is the kind of dad who throws your kids around for fun, tossing them into the air and catching them just to hear their infectious laughter, ignoring the worrisome protests that you call out from the kitchen when they get a little too high.

Captain John Price is the kind of dad who convinces your children to ask you for pizza for dinner, acting all surprised when you tell him to call the local pizza place, eyebrows rising with "What's the occasion?" despite the obvious grin that his plan worked. You aren't fooled.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick is the kind of dad who chases your kids around with a nerf gun, relentlessly pelting them with styrofoam bullets and ganging up on your oldest son with your youngest daughter. Waits behind the front door for your son to get home from school and immediately fires on him.

Simon "Ghost" Riley is the kind of dad who holds your toddlers like footballs, your daughter tucked sideways under his arm and dangling your son by his ankle. "Found these mice sniffin' 'round the cookie tin." He says with a deadpan expression, but you don't miss the way his mouth twitches when they giggle and shriek.

[hidingwhere]

John Prices wife coming to pick him up at the airport after he returns from a mission, but the car is now full of military men.

One look at the three boys, completely exhausted and pulling their phones out to book a taxi had your heart crying. Without thinking, you offered them all a lift to yours and Johns home for them to stay overnight.

So now there’s three men cramped onto your three backseats, John having the luxury of sitting in the front. Simon is on the end (still in his balaclava but luckily not the skull mask because you’d be a little creeped out seeing that every time in the rear view mirror), Johnny in the middle and then Kyle on the other end. Johnny complains for about 10 minutes that he’s squished in and has no room to move but after that he’s completely zonked out on Simons shoulder.

Your music plays quietly through the speakers and they’re happy to listen to anything that isn’t gun shots or explosions.

Once you arrive home, they all climb out the car, grabbing their bags from the boot and dumping them down in the living room.

“Place looks less lifeless than last time I was here,” comments Johnny.

“Finally got a woman’s touch to it,” adds Kyle.

You smile a little at the non-direct compliment. Price also looks around, noticing the little details that have changed or the things that have been added around his house, keeping a hand on your back. He leans down and kisses you gently, mumbling “I missed you” against your lips.

“I missed you too. But it looks like you’ve lost weight.” You glance down at his body. “I’ll fatten you up again,” you tease with a little giggle as he chuckles.

It’s around 9pm by the time you’ve cooked dinner for four people who have appetites of bears. They all look at you as if you’re an angel sent from heaven when they see the food, sitting down at the dining table silently and scoffing down the meal.

By 10pm, you go into the living room thinking they’re all watching TV but instead they’re all asleep. You grab some spare blankets from beside the sofa and cover them up except for John. You shake him awake and make him move upstairs into bed with you. There’s no way you’re letting him sleep on the sofa and not with you after weeks apart.

[bluegiragi]

couch potato.

early access + nsfw on patreon

[shotmrmiller]

god going on a date with johnny whom you matched on tinder and he's the type of guy you avoid like the plague; jaw-dropping good looks, cheeky ㅤㅤsmiles, hits the gym more in a week than you've done all year and worst of all, could charm the pants off a snake.

so it's truly no wonder that you end up letting him bury his face between your thighs and lap at your glistening sex until your moans almost turn into screams and you haven't even left the bar's driveway, then left to watch johnny wipe the condensation off the windshield with a spare shirt so he can drive you home all the while his chin drips with your slick.

he fucks you against the front door once inside, legs hooked over his arms, then again over your couch, hand curled around your throat, and again, in front of your full length mirror while he tells you how pretty you look taking all of him, to look at how pretty you look, his crystalline eyes latching onto yours through the reflection, pretty as a peach.

then he leaves you with his spend sticking your thighs together, a languid kiss that tastes of you, and with his personal number on a scrap piece of paper.

and that's the last you hear of him. he'd said that he's quite a busy man, military and whatnot, and all in all, while you'd raked your nails down his back on the first date, it had been a date. you require more than good sex to get into a committed relationship.

a swipe of your thumb brings up tinder again, and you match with another bloke not your type. big, broad man, biceps the size of your thighs with a deadpan stare that sees right through false bravado. but he's doesn't seem to care in the slightest that he makes you nervous, doesn't care that you stutter out responses to his rather abnormal questions.

simon takes you home and sits eerily silent with his hands dwarfing the steering wheel as you chew on your lip before tentatively inviting him in for a nightcap, and you must be the luckiest person on the planet because he's just as devoted to your pleasure as your last partner.

he brings you peak after peak with his tongue, his fingers, swirls your pearl with the tip of his misaligned nose. then he lets you be on top first, concentration knitting your brows togethee as you try to fit all of him in and pride warms your cheeks when you can hear his teeth audibly grind as his fingers bite into the soft of your waist once you take him to the root, thighs flush against his hips.

you come undone more times than you can count, the neighbors more than likely knowing his name by the time he walks out the front door (after checking the locks on your windows) and that's that.

until it isn't because a text from johnny awakens your phone screen, an invite to a restaurant downtown next saturday, one you've only ever fancied of eating at and well-

a date is a date, isn't it?

you tell him to pick you up at seven and he tells you to wear something you wouldn't mind letting him keep underneath, preferably something in red. (must've seen that particular number while you looked for some sleeping shorts before he left that night.)

hopefully you won't feel too bad breaking things off with whoever doesn't ask you to be theirs first.

(simon and johnny fuck each other to the thought of you back at base, simon's fist viciously tight around johnny's cock as he's got him drooling into the flattened pillow, almost like she's fucking you too, eh, johnny?)

[yooo-lets-go]

I lost the ask but it was about Soap in this specific shirt, and another one was about Ghost in a kilt, so here they are:

Leave at Johnny’s this time

[ilostthewar]

Anyway, play fighting with Soap is probably the fastest way to getting bred… or a concussion.

He thinks it’s so much fun. Hes a big guy and tends to get rowdy, so when his partner initiates fighting with him he tends to get carried away. It’s always in good fun, of course, but if you say you can take it, who is he to deny you the pleasure of being thrown around?

And he does throw you. Thinks that surprised squeal you make when you’re airborne is the best, followed by the little grunt when your body hits the bed or the couch. He’s showing off, cause of course he is. Manhandles you and puts on a show of folding you into different holds and presses. But he’s always delighted to lose the upper hand, watching you scrabble for a chance to best him, panting and flushed in the face, your clothes twisted around your body. Probably grunts out some praise because getting one over him isn’t easy. Unfortunately, he plays dirty and isn’t against tickling or other less than polite ways of winning. Loves when he tires you out and has you pressed against his body, squirming with no way out.

And of course, because he won he gets a prize, doesn’t he, Bonnie?

[capitanoidyll]

android!johnny "soap" mactavish x human!reader, or in which you fall in love with someone who isn't human and you can't help but wonder if he feels the same.

"What's the hardest thing about being an ai?"

Your voice was soft as you gently laid your head on Johnny's chest. Your ear pressed against his artificial skin, the sweat collating across his skin felt to real against your cheek, his chest rising and falling seeming too human, his loving caressing fingertips soft against your bare back.

You don't know why you asked the question. You knew that Johnny only ever got serious when he was protecting you, acting as your bodyguard, or was taking orders from another android named Price.

And when he was alone with you? He was all smiles and jokes. He called you cute nicknames with that programmed Scottish accent that sounded too real to be something completely fabricated by mechanical vocal cords and wires.

With his free hand, he gently cupped your cheek and titled your head up so you were looking at him.

Looking closely at him, you could see how his optics shifted, turned, rotated within his irises. They were such a brilliant blue. So beautiful. You could get lost in them.

Even when he gently slotted his lips against your in a tender kiss that was far from the heated kisses you both shared previously, you couldn't help but to fall deeper.

And when he pulled his mouth off yours, his breath that fanned your face. His breath that he didn't even need to take but decided to simulate anyway.

His forehead gently pressed against yours, his eyes slowly slipping closed. For a moment, you thought he wouldn't answer. Until he did.

"I'd say it would be trying to learn on how to be as human as you are."

[hokkeis]

He secretly loved it (took a lot of photos when they were distracted)

[disgustingtwitches]

threesome with Kyle and Johnny and you are reminded that Johnny is so smart he's stupid:

Soap: can I finish inside you

You: yeah I have an IUD

Soap: you got a bomb in your pussy?

Kyle: that's an IED you absolute clownshoe

...

Kyle: you are a demolitions specialist

[luminni]

This is some shit Johnny would say, it just is I'm sorry.

Johnny hates your new boyfriend. It burns in his loins every time you come over and complain about something stupid the git said. So often that now when you take a particularly large sigh, he's immediately asking "fuckin' 'ell, what he do this time eh?"

It hurts even more when you gush about something "good" your boyfriend did, even when it's just the bare minimum. Yeah he open the door for you on a date? Did you know that Johnny would have lifted up the globe had you asked him? Do you have any idea the things he would do if you so much as asked? No you didn't, because he was fairly certain you only saw him as your good friend, as you had been for years.

And Jesus did it infuriate him when you "laughed" your boyfriend's pitiful excuses for a joke. It wasn't your real laughter, it was a kind of controlled giggle. Johnny knew a couple words from him could have you full on belly laughing, gripping onto the nearest surface (usually his arm) to steady yourself. The worst part of it was, the sorry excuse of a man that had wormed his way into your life looked so proud of himself when you gave that fake laugh. Johnny wanted to wipe that grin off his face so bad. But he behaved himself, for you...most of the time, but this is Johnny we're talking about, he's nothing if not petty.

He pretends to like your sorry excuse of a boyfriend in front of you so that you invite him on your dates because you hope they can be friends. Johnny just wants to ruin things

When you make food, Johnny is there. Reminding your boyfriend he would never be the first person to try your recipes.

"Added some pepper since las' time aye lass?"

He then proceeds to taste test form the same spoon as you, side eyeing your "man".

And when you do serve the food, he eats 10x more than he usually does which is saying a lot for him. Just has to mention how many calories he's been burning at the gym lately. Does your boyfriend work out? Oh he doesn't? Hm, interesting.

Also the king of flirty jokes but turns it to 100 when he's around your new boyfriend.

"Jesus, you eat like a horse"

"Aye 's not the only thing about me thas' like a horse"

All said with that shit eating grin he knows pisses your boyfriend off.

Johnny knows this "relationship" (he refuses to believe you actually like the tadger) isn't going to last long anyway. He's the only person who could ever make you truly happy. The only person you'd wait for at the airport every time he got back from deployment. The only person you'd text out of no where at 3am to tell him you were hungry. He just had to help you see it was all and scare off your pathetic partner. If he couldn't manage it, he knew a couple big scary guys that could follow him home at night.

[metallictastinglifesupportliquid]

Price, texting: Can you come collect your freak of a boyfriend please Price: He's doing things Y/N: No I set him loose on purpose Y/N: He needs enrichment