#john soap mactavish fluff

[gloomwitchwrites]

They overhear you telling the team how much you like them and want to have their babies.

ANON! The way I screamed when I first read this prompt. I love shit like this because o-m-g. I had so much fun writing our boys in this scenario. Thank you so much for sending it in!

While there are some sweeter moments, these all lean toward the steamy side but don't cross over fully into spice. But, each is left open enough that you can make up your own mind about what happens! (hehe).

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): mild language, suggestive themes, pregnancy, fluff, feelings

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist

John "Soap" MacTavish (wc: 651)

John is grinning like a bloody idiot. Has been for the last few days.

He’s caught your attention, and he’s downright smug about it. Every lingering glance and gentle upturn of your mouth has his skin singing with an intensity that can only be described as a tree burning from the inside out. He’s been after you for months, doing his best to gauge your interest in him.

He thinks he has an in because just yesterday, you touched him. Not a passing touch either but a firm grasp of his upper arm. A squeeze that shot heat straight to his toes and sent blood rushing quickly to an already throbbing need.

You looked him in the eye, brow all soft, mouth puckered slightly in the most gorgeous pout. John wanted to kiss you right then.

He turns the corner, heading into the training room, only to stop dead when he hears your voice. Pausing, he backtracks, pressing himself against the wall but leaning around the corner to listen in.

“Johnny’s been sweet on you,” comes Ghost’s voice. It’s slightly teasing, and John frowns slightly. Ghost would never overstep and steal you out from under him, but he would give him or even you a hard time.

“Has he?” you reply, and it’s breathy.

At this rate, his cheeks are gonna hurt for a week from how stupidly big his grin is.

“Don’t tell us you haven’t noticed,” laughs Gaz. “Soap’s been drooling all over the floor and himself.”

You remain silent, and John would give anything to know what you look like right now or what you’re thinking.

“Do you like him?” asks Ghost.

“What?” you exclaim.

“We won’t tell. Unless you want us to,” continues Gaz. “We can tell him to back off if—”

“No. I—” There is a stretch of silence. “I like him.”

When neither Gaz nor Ghost say anything, you keep talking. “I like him. I’m interested.”

“How interested?” asks Ghost, slowly.

“I’d have his babies if he asked,” you blurt so suddenly that it even takes John by surprise.

His grin momentarily slips away, and then it comes back, raging larger than before. He is going to bottle up those words and savor them. John runs his fingers through his hair, tugging on the tips slightly as he comes to a decision.

Pushing off from the wall, he barrels around the corner, making enough noise to not startle anyone. You and Gaz both jump but Ghost remains utterly still, a passive brick of a man. But his dark eyes swivel from you to John, and he sees Ghost’s amusement behind the balaclava.

John approaches you, and it takes every ounce of willpower to keep his grin from seeming too eager. “Price is looking for you.”

“Oh,” is all you say, moving in the direction John just emerged from. He waits until you pass him to start following, but before he can, he catches Gaz’s grin and Ghost’s gentle shake of his head.

When the two of you disappear around the corner, John reaches out, grabbing your arm. He tugs you against him, then shoves open a nearby door, hauling you inside.

“Johnny,” you protest as he shuts the two of you inside.

Leaning against the door, John crosses his arms over his chest. “Heard what you said.”

“Did you?” you counter, placing your hands on your hips.

“Aye.”

“And what did I say?”

“That you wanted to have my babies.” Your face heats and John has to bite back a groan. He surges forward, trapping you against the wall. “Is that the truth? Do you want me?”

You soften in his arms, and he cannot help himself. His arms snake around your middle only to lift you onto a nearby table.

“I want you,” you whisper.

John dips his head and you greet him with your mouth. “Then let’s get to it, love.”

John Price (wc: 420)

Price reclines in his office chair.

His mind is a mess. All thoughts of work are utterly gone. Finished. The only thing in his head is you and what you said this morning. The thing is, you don’t know that Price heard every word, that he listened as you confessed your feelings for him to the rest of the team.

Price is your superior, which means anything between the two of you cannot happen. At least, not while you’re under his command. The rest of the team said as much, and you reluctantly agreed, knowing that nothing could be done unless you or he moved out of the unit.

And Price won’t leave. Not because he wouldn’t do it for you, but because Laswell would have his head if he tried.

But the two of you can still talk. The two of you can still figure something out.

Yet it wasn’t just your interest in him that has Price’s head in knots. It’s what you said, almost absently, like you were speaking to the air and not the rest of the team.

I’d have his babies.

Fuck, he was gone when he heard that. Price walked away immediately and went to his office. Which is where he’s been the entire fucking day. When his phone rings, he refuses to answer. Everyone who has come knocking leaves when Price ignores them. He just needs to get his head on straight but he can only do that once he talks to you first.

Sighing, Price leans forward in his chair, resting his forearms on the table. A knock comes, and everything in him tenses.

He swallows. Turns his nerves to steel. "Come in."

When you enter, Price loses all thought. It isn't until the silence becomes awkward that Price clears his throat and stands. "Shut the door."

You do and then take a few more steps inside. Price isn't one for stepping around a conversation. He just needs to get this shit off his chest.

"Heard what you said this morning."

"You did?"

"I did."

You take a shaky breath. "And?"

"Did you mean it?"

'Every word," you say automatically.

Fuck. He's done for.

Price slowly sinks into his chair. He leans back casually, legs spread. Resting both hands on his thighs, Price runs them up and then back down. He taps the inside of one thigh in open invitation.

Your legs obediently move, and Price's chest tightens. As you straddle him, Price's hands come to rest on your waist.

"Show me."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick (wc: 309)

Kyle heard you wrong. He must have.

The words that just came out of your mouth simply aren’t true.

I want to have his babies.

He shakes his head, the middle of his brow furrowing slightly as he continues to listen. He hears Soap guffaw at your reply and then swear up a storm when you smack the back of his head.

“It’s not funny,” you snap.

“Oh, aye. But it is.”

“Cut her some slack, Johnny,” says Ghost teasingly. “Sergeant Garrick is a handsome man.”

You sigh in frustration. “You’re both terrible. I can’t tell you anything.”

“You just did.”

“Oh shove it, Soap,” you reply.

Kyle covers his mouth with his hand, smothering a laugh. You’ve always been feisty, and you don’t take shit from anyone, especially not from them. But this admission completely catches him off-guard.

He’d be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t interested. What first began as mutual respect grew into genuine friendship. Now it’s…this. Whatever this is.

But Kyle is a private person, and he’s not going to shove himself into this conversation. He’ll wait until you’re alone and the two of you can talk this out without an audience. From there, he will have the truth directly from your mouth.

And if he's being honest with himself, Kyle is fucking ace to the idea of you giving him a kid or two. Or three.

His mind swirls outward with images of what he’d do to put a baby inside you. Everything in him ramps up, burns hot until he’s aching.

“Sergeant.”

Kyle’s eyes snap open, and he momentarily sways as he rights himself.

“Captain,” he replies, clearing his throat.

Captain Price smirks and then squeezes his shoulder. “Must have been a hell of a daydream.” Price releases Kyle’s shoulder and continues on.

Privacy. Privacy with you.

That’s what Kyle needs.

Simon "Ghost" Riley (wc: 375)

Ghost is a patient man.

But right now, there is a fire beneath his skin.

It itches, radiating outward, even making his bones ache. This is not a wound. Not an injury. He didn’t take a hit. There is nothing physically wrong with him. Ghost is healthy. A solid brick wall of muscle and scars.

This impatient insistence comes from a carnal place. All the blood is rushing to a singular point, and Ghost is going fucking insane with how badly he needs to relieve it. The worst part about it is that you don’t even know. You have no idea what you’ve done, or what he heard.

I’d have his babies.

Ghost is entirely aware that the conversation you had with Soap and Gaz was private. He wasn’t meant to hear it. But he did. He did, and now he can’t stop thinking about all the things you said to them.

Which is why he’s lurking in the shadows, watching your every step, assessing when he should slide on up to you. Ghost needs you alone. He needs to talk but he also needs you in his lap.

So, when you turn the corner, Ghost slips into his namesake, grabbing you by the waist to haul you through the nearest door. Instinct kicks in, and you lash out, but Ghost is so much bigger than you, easily restraining all resistance.

"Stop moving."

"Simon."

His real name on your tongue is perfect. Pressing his face into your neck, he inhales, and you melt into him.

"What are you doing?" you ask softly.

"I heard the conversation you had with Johnny and Gaz today."

"Did you?"

"Is it true?"

Your face shifts slightly in his direction and Ghost draws back a bit. "Yes."

"Mean it?"

"Yes."

Slowly, Ghost removes his arms from around your waist. He gently guides you forward and then spins you around so that you're fully facing him. There is silence and then Ghost reaches for the front of his belt buckle. Your gaze immediately drops and then pops back up as undoes and then removes the belt with one hand.

"Willing to show me?" he asks.

Your lips part, and then you're touching him.

The fire beneath his skin becomes an inferno.

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @miaraei

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@keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @berarenado

@saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thewulf @lxblm

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@tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe @jaggersinclair @nomercyforthewarrior @glassgulls

[operationdeadbolt]

Pockets of Domesticity

Johnny who’s happiest when he gets back from an assignment and is finally able to see his love again.

No matter how many times he tries to convince you otherwise, you feel guilty when ‘all’ he comes home from a deployment to is you. You think he deserves more, a special night in or a nice dinner, perhaps something extravagant after everything he’s been through. 

In reality, this is complete bliss. The only thing he’s thought about the whole time he was in the field is you and the pockets of domesticity you provide. 

When Johnny walks through the door, he's aching and stiff and beat up and exhausted, yes, but he hears the patter of your socks against the hardwood and you show up in front of him wearing his hoodie and looking up at him with the brightest smile he’s ever seen. His calloused hands cup your face gently as he peppers kisses all over, baby blue hues welling up with tears because he’s home, he’s safe, and he has his sweetheart in his arms again. 

Johnny smiles warmly as you sit in his lap on the couch, studying your features intently as you talk about everything you’ve done while he’s been away. The way your eyes light up when you tell him you finally finished the puzzle you two were working on and how you built a shelf to keep his sketchbooks organized. He lets out a laugh, deep and genuine, when you feel your face get warm and sheepishly tell him sorry for getting so excited over something so ‘mundane’.

Johnny who is adamant to tell you how you being happy is what makes him happy, so please don’t ever apologize for something like that again. He can’t keep his hands off of you as the two of you make your way upstairs, thick biceps holding you against him and nearly making you fall over from how clingy he is. 

Johnny keeps his arms around your waist as the two of you shower together, the warm water gladly welcomed against his aching muscles. He reluctantly loosens his hold after you tilt your head at him and remind him there’s a point to being in the shower. He sighs contentedly as you pay extra attention to his hair, massaging the shampoo through the roots and tracing your nails over his scalp. He makes sure to remind you how much he loves you as he presses his forehead against yours, taking turns with the soap to help wash each other. 

Johnny adores it when you towel him off, wrapping it around his waist as he sits on the edge of the bathtub. He looks up at you with genuine devotion as you dry his hair, finally using this opportunity to shave the mohawk that became overgrown during his deployment. He pretends to fight back when you tell him you want to keep the beard this scruffy, mostly because he thinks you look cute when you pout. He gives in once he remembers your smile is even cuter. 

Johnny who dresses you in his clothes to sleep in because he thinks they look better on you than they do on him. He swears his heart beats faster the second you’re in front of him wearing his shirt and a pair of old sweats. He holds you against him while you lay in bed together, his legs entangled with yours and using his bicep as a makeshift pillow for you. Johnny looks down at you as you peacefully sleep in his arms and he remembers that this is what he fights for. 

Johnny who loves the love you’ve given him. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

[macravishedbymactavish]

Hugging Headcanons (TF141 + König x GN!Reader)

Turns out, I'm better at full paragraph writing then headcanons, but we do our best in this house.

TW: Light swearing (like 2-3 words at most), little bit of cheeky adult(ish. Major ISH) behaviour, and mentions of anxiety/overthinking

| Blog HQ | Ghosts Version | Modern Warfare 2 Masterlist | 18+ MDNI | Taglist Open |

Soap:

If he had it his way, he'd be hugging you constantly. Loves (and I mean LOVES) physical contact and just being close to you in general.

He is also very vocal about this. From the beginning of your relationship he's made it known that he L I V E S for physical contact.

His favourite way to hug you is from behind, especially when you're not expecting it. The little jump then relaxing when you realize it's him brings him so much joy.

100% content with holding you from behind like this, chin resting on your shoulder as you do things.

Cooking? He'll be there, likely stealing some of the food before it's served (and laughing when he gets smacked with the spoon).

Paperwork? He'll try to hold you with one arm and write with the other, until Ghost or Price gives him shit because you're both now working at half your normal pace.

Anywhere, anytime. He's going to try to hug you.

If at any point you stop and think: "does Soap want a hug" the answer is yes. Always yes.

Soap always wants a hug, please hug him.

Ghost:

Would either be 100% hesitant and unsure of what he's doing, or 100% confident and assertive. No inbetween for this.

I feel he doesn't dislike physical contact (quite the opposite actually), but rather just hasn't had any physical or emotional connections in quite a while. So long in fact that he's grown fine without it. Until you came around.

Like context pre-hug aside, he probably did the cliche "tense right up then relax once he realizes he's safe" the first time you hugged him. Now he's hooked on the warmth of your body, the way you feel pressed into him, and how automatically relaxed he gets while being hugged.

Since he strikes me as someone who isn't huge on PDA (he's a rather private person) as much as he wants to hold you 24/7, he reserves this for moments when it's just the two of you.

The exception to the rule being stressful missions or any time when he was concerned for your wellbeing. He will gladly hold you close to remind himself that you're okay. No matter where you are, just a reminder that you're still here. You're still his. He pays no mind to anyone else in that moment outside of you and him.

He would NOT be open to questions or explanations the first time this happens, especially if it's in front of the guys. Yes, he's proud of you. Yes he's happy your his. No, they don't need to know every detail of your relationship.

Price:

I can see him being the "little bit obnoxious but a lot of love bear hug" type. Like you can't breathe but that's okay, he loves you a lot.

Much like Ghost - not huge on PDA. Partially because he likes to keep his personal life and work life seperate. But also a professional thing.

He leads a team, he has to keep up appearances. He also doesn't feel like dealing with his sergeants teasing the life out of him for being a softie.

He's also not a teenager anymore, his "I need to touch you at every minute of every hour" days are over. He's perfectly content holding you when appropriate/when he can.

He tries his best to balance work and home. Hugs and loving talks before bed are a MUST in this household. Of course you'll cuddle up in bed, but he makes a point to love up on you a bit more while you're both awake and can remember it.

Like everyone on this list: long hugs before he's deployed and when he first comes home. But I feel like his are more worth mentioning? He's been in the military either the entire time or majority of the time you've been with him. So because of that, you've sacrificed so much for this relationship so he could pursue his career/what feels right. The least he can do is set aside time for just you, to let you feel even a whisper of closure before he goes/when he returns.

I just imagine in the kitchen, tight hug. Ready to say goodbye, as he whispers stuff to you. Like whether it be bits of your vows, quotes he knows you live by, or just how much he adores you for everything. He would make an absolute point to give you another piece of his soul to treasure before he leaves (we can get into this more later if wanted)

Gaz

Another very playful soul. Not outward on PDA, but won't give up a chance to hug you quick or keep a hand on the small of your back.

You rank pretty high on the better things he has in life (if not on top), of course he's going to show you off. He landed a partner who is gorgeous inside and out.

As shown in game, he is a cheeky mf. So expect this to translate into the physical contact.

Mid-hug he may grab a handful of your ass, or start peppering kisses to your neck if hugging you from behind - then pretend like nothing happened (obviously in private. Time and place for everything folks).

I can see him being big on having his arm around your shoulders quite often. Like in resuraunts, resting his arm on the back of your chair, or doing the same while sitting on the couch with you. Just casual contact, a small flex of "they're mine, crazy right?"

Expect to be pulled into a tight hug, then dipped during your first kiss at your wedding. A little bit of flair and spice on your big day. Especially considering he got so flustered after your second or third date, that instead of going in for a goodbye/goodnight kiss he chickened out and opted to hug you close instead.

You melted when he told you that one night, when recounting the many stories and memories from your relationship.

So hugs, needless to say are pretty symbolic in your relationship

König

(Side note: I live and breathe the fact that his social anxiety is canon. I've never related to a character faster)

As anyone with social anxiety knows: it's not about whether you like physical contact or not -- it's normally the overthinking about "Do I initiate? Do I not? Do I pull away first? Am I hugging them for too long? Is this weird?"

He's very sweet overall, but quite awkward and overthinks hugging you initially. But wishes so much that you'd hug him over and over again.

He almost melts the first time you do, but is another "cliche freezes then relaxes" because he's so nervous. He really enjoys your company, he doesn't want to mess this up. He wants this to feel as nice and loving for you as it does for him.

Needless to say, it takes a little while and a lot of reassurance for him to get comfortable hugging you first. But when this day comes, oh boy watch out.

He will hug you at any opportunity. From behind hugs, side hugs, bear hugs, quick hugs, hugs where you do that little sway thing, hugs where you lightly rub the other persons back. He loves them all equally.

He especially loves hugs where you rest your face against his chest, and relax into him. Letting all the stress from your day fade for even a moment (because that's how he has always felt when you hugged him)

He found it both comical and endearing when you dragged a chair from across the room to in front of him to stand on so you could either (depending on your height and the chair)

1) Press your face into his neck without him having to bend right down

Or

2). Let him rest his head against your chest and relax.

Not that he'd ever admit it out loud, but that's the memory he finds himself thinking back to when he can't sleep during a long deployment. Or when he needs a quick pick-me-up after a long day.

Taglist: @bloodonmyhands-1221 @v1naco @bowtruckleninja

[thisfanisgonesorry]

Can you do a giggly drunk make out session with soap x fem reader and Ghost (being the observant guy he is) could tell his best friend was head I’ve rebels for the female sergeant and he catches the 2 out of the corner of his eyes making out, smiling into each others mouths?!?!

i hope this is okay!! im sorry it took me a little bit, got super AUGHH with it and lowkey not my proudest but <3

tags: fluff, love confessions sort of, making out mwahmwahmwah, depictions of drinking + smoking, simon is not an asshole for once, light use of scottish gaelic / scottish slang

☠️

Lieutenant Riley was across the room, his arms furrowed across his chest as he kept a close eye on things. His eyes squinted and focused on the duo and he sighed, shaking his head; “Idiots.”

Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish, standing in all his glory, was hunched over the pool-table, a beer bottle creating ring stains in the plush green carpet. He pulled his arm back and click, the last little ball sunk into the netted hole.

“Fucker.” The other man cursed, and John accepted his humble victory, which meant chugging the rest of his beer and sending the loser to get him another while he set the table up for the next game.

During his victory, he glanced over, a grin plastering his face as he noticed my staring. “You see that?” He cheered, walking over and slumping next to me on the couch. His lackey handed him his fresh beer, and he clinked our drinks.

“Mostly saw the back of you.”

“Sure you enjoyed the view anyway, yeah?” He joked, taking my beer from my hands and giving me his fresh cold one in its place. He blinked, realising he needed to explain, but also wanting to change the topic away from his assets. “It’s gone warm.” He hummed, sipping the warm beer casually.

“I could’ve just got a new one.”

“Ain’t no point wasting beer, hen, don’t worry about it.”

“Hen?” I asked back with a short laugh, and he simply ignored it, instead his attention being dragged to the other Sergeants that were pulling him out of the couch and towards another table.

He returned back a lot more drinks later, being the ‘victor’ of beer pong. He lost, but he says that was intentional so he could drink more.

“It’s a self-proclaimed victory.” He claimed with a slurred laugh, rotating his wrist in circles, motioning blanky, moving his hands for the sake of moving them. “They think they won, builds morale, makes ‘em not sooky that I win everythin’, and I get to get drunk.” He winked.

“That’s what you call it?”

“Yeah, it’s like, uh, when you let your little bruther win a game, y’know? You let him win because it makes him ‘appy, not ‘cause he’s actually better than you, but you’re a good bruther for letting him win, right?”

“You’re an asshole.” I laughed while sipping my drink. 

A lot more drinks later, and he was staring from across the room, fiddling with the lighter in his hands. He noticed Simon staring at him, and he simply scoffed, shoving his metal lighter into his pocket and sauntering over.

“Hey, y’got a light?” He lied through his teeth despite his inebriated state. “‘M gonna go for a smoke.”

“Yeah, I’ll, uh- I’ll come with you.” I smiled, grabbing my drink and following behind him quickly as he made his exit to the fresh air outside. Hovering by the doorway, I handed him my lighter, and he placed the cigarette between his lips.

“Thanks.” He spoke quietly, trying to hide the slight slur to his voice, his eyes glued to the struggling lighter. His thumb brushed the gears, yet it would spark and sputter without a flame. 

I took the lighter from his hands, shaking it and flicking it briefly to life. “You gotta shake it.” I held the flame up, lighting his cigarette for him and he kept eye contact with his deep inhale. The cigarette barely lit before the flame died out, he got one good inhale, blowing the smoke to the side before the cigarette was burnt out.

“I think it’s about time y’get a new one.” He commented, a short grimace of dissatisfaction crossing his face before replacing it with a grateful smile, not wanting to look sour.

“Mhmhm, and what happened to your lighter?” I deflected the issue.

“Ah, Si’s got it.” He responded quickly. I leant against the wall and took a sip of my drink, and he slumped against it with me, a loud ‘thump’ as his body weight collided with the concrete. “You really should know better than to light me up.” He joked, putting the cigarette away in the pack for later.

“You’re the idiot who couldn’t do it himself.” I laughed, finding his slight frustration somewhat amusing.

“You’re the one with a dead lighter, why do I have to shake it?”

“Don’t bum yours out to people who don’t give it back.”

“He will.” He spoke, his composure faltered and he started laughing at the lighthearted argument. He looked at me and just giggled to himself. “Fuck, y’so..”

“So?” I tilted my head, stifling a few more drunken laughs.

“Pretty.” He admitted with a soft exhale between laughs. “God, you’re so pretty.” He said, leaning in closer towards me, his breath smelling of smoke and beer as it filled the short space between us, the cold air being replaced quickly.

“Yeah? You think?” I felt the heat of my cheeks rise, definitely not helped by the drunken haze. He hummed with a nod. “Well.. I think.. there’s nothing wrong with my lighter.”

“Oh my god.” He laughed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, nothin’ wrong wit’ it for the 3 seconds I had to use it. Just get a new one.”

“If I need a light, I’ll use yours. How about that?”

“What if ’m not around?”

“You’re always around.”

“Y/n. You’re ruining the moment.”

“We’re having a moment?” I joked and he grabbed my face, pressing his lips into mine without any further hesitation.

He held his lips there. “That’s f’the light, smokin’ rules and all’a that.” He mumbled, pulling away for a second to glance over my face, before kissing me again.

“And that’s for?”

“Shut up, was meant t’kiss you when I called you pretty but y’ruined it.”

“So that’s for being pretty?”

“I said shut up.” He laughed against my lips, his arms wrapping around my shoulders and pulling me into him. I laughed with him, my legs feeling like jelly from the mixture of alcohol and butterflies. “Been trying to kiss you all night but just couldn’t figure out how to.” He admitted with a light laugh as his lips chased mine before he kissed me again.

He held my body up and close to him, turning our position so his large figure covered me from view, low chuckles leaving his throat and filling the tight space between us. “Didn’t even think you’d snog me back.” He teased, his hands practically glued to my face and waist, holding me as close to him as possible. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” I panted, the tone was light but it was still a heavy question.

“I mean, knew y’liked me but didn’t think it was this much.” He joked. “Thought you’d be distracted by my shite patter.”

“It was pretty shit.”

“Cheers.” He huffed in amusement, he leant in closer once again, making it clear he wanted to cut the banter, he kissed the corner of my mouth lightly. “Gonna kiss or gonna talk all through it?” He joked lightly before continuing his actions.

“Can’t do both?” I smiled, and it was met with a dramatic sigh.

“We can talk for the rest o’the night, hen, ain’t got all night for this.” He responded. “Someone’ll wonder where we’ve gone, but they’re probably glad I’m not kickin’ their arses.” He couldn’t stop laughing at his own words, evidently prideful over his accomplishment of being best at insert-any-party-game-here in the entire barracks. “Your lips are softer than I could’ve imagined, jus’, c’mon, hen, kiss me.” He pleaded.

“Johnny, you’re giggling too much.” It was admittedly infectious, the warm feeling spreading to my chest. “Someone could hear us.”

“Who cares? ’M sure no one’s listening, and it's not like we’re bein’ secretive.”

“We’re just ... Two friends havin’ a smoke.”

“Mhm, just friends.” His voice dipped, almost a whisper, his tone changed quickly. His demeanour stayed calm, and indifferent, though his words were almost sour. “Don’t know where anyone would get any other idea about us from.”

“Oh, c’mon, Johnny.” I dismissed, leaning closer to him. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.” His body still covered mine like a shield, his strong arms holding me in place as his eyes flicked.

“So what did you mean?”

I shook my head, my lips ghosting over his. “Don’t overthink it.” I whispered, and his hand gently cupped my face.

“Hard not to.” He moved closer, closing the short distance, his tongue swiping across my bottom lip. My hands wrapped around his neck, tugging slightly on the mohawk and earning a short whimper.

He pulled away for a moment, licking his lips. “I could go for ‘nother drink.” I joked, and he gave a light scoff.

His ears perked up at the clicking sound of the door opening, though he simply kept looking into my eyes, biting back any comments he could have. His reaction seemed to just be to hunch himself over me fully.

“Subtle.” The Ghost commented dryly; “Real subtle.” He’d evidently only checked on us to prove something to himself, and his sarcastic attitude matched that he found exactly what he expected. The pinnacle of crude.

“What do you want, Lt?” He grinned, not pulling away from me. He tried to keep the movements going into sync, though the fogginess of the liquor and the laughter between us made it hard for him to keep his focus.

He hissed inwardly. “What’s-his-face wants a rematch.” He said matter-of-factly before continuing; “They want you inside but I can see you’re busy. I’ll, uh, let you continue this.” He thought his comment was funny, before turning quickly on his heel.

Johnny’s soft chuckles filled the air and he pulled away for a moment. “I lied about the lighter, by the way.”

“Course you did.”

[lazybutsmexy]

To good use

John "Soap" Mactavish x teacher!Reader

Johnny's mind works at breakneck speed, and you know how to slow him down.

Warnings: none! pure fluff, Johnny has ADHD. GN!Reader.

Words: 700~

A/N: Just a thing I came up with while preparing my lesson plans.

He stands up from the couch, completely disregarding the current football match. His team wasn’t doing well and he grew restless. His bare feet thudded on the wooden floor and took him to the kitchen, from where moments later the scent of freshly made coffee waltzed to you. 

You simply let out a soft puff of air, too focused on your task at hand - making sure your scissors didn’t stray a millimeter from the lines you had carefully designed on the brightly coloured craft paper. 

A soft ‘thunk’ signaled the presence of a steaming, fresh cup of coffee in front of you. “Thank you, Johnny,” you smiled up at him as he leaned down to peck your cheek. Immediately after, he shuffled over to the large window overseeing the front yard. 

The rain smacked heavily into the glass, as if attempting to break in. It wouldn’t - Johnny had made sure that the flimsy single-glass panels were replaced by bulletproof glass the moment you had agreed to date him all those years ago. He loved you and cherished you that much. 

You peered at him out of the corner of your eye. The sports commentator shouted another goal for the rival team, but you had a sneaking suspicion he didn’t hear it. 

His fingers twitched, and he clenched his hands a few times to relieve the tension. Soon, his fingers found themselves combing through his mohawk. The hair was soft, freshly conditioned after weeks. 

You could see the signals. He was itching for something to do. He couldn’t go on a run to wear himself down, nor even to smoke a cigarette in his storm. 

It was the part of his character that made you fall in love with him. His romantic spontaneity was born from his ever-working mind, and all the ways his thoughts zeroed in you. It was also his greatest flaw - if you could even call it that. When he lived with a mind that was always speeding at breakneck speed, left unchecked would give him - and you - whiplash. 

You snipped the last bit of paper in your hand and glanced at the rest of the materials on your workspace with an idea simmering in between your eyebrows. 

Forcing out a yawn and a stretch worked like a charm to bring his attention back to you. 

“Tired, bonnie?” he smiled, and by God, you could watch him smile for the rest of your days and be happy. He glanced at the clock on the wall and frowned slightly. “‘s pretty late, you almost done?”

“No,” you moaned pitifully, and drove the point home with a pout and batting eyelashes, “I need help with this if I want to go to sleep before midnight.” 

Immediately Johnny was dragging a chair and sitting down in front of you. “Tell me what to do, I’ll help.” Even though he tried to show a finality in his decision to help, you caught the hidden eagerness in his voice. 

Your beaming smile seemed to punch all thoughts away from his head as you handed him a stack of colourful paper strips. “Use that glue to stick the tips together to make rings, please,” you instructed him, and he immediately took the tiny tub of glue, “I need them arranged into a chain, the colour order isn’t important.” 

Johnny nodded once and muttered a soft “copy” before carefully getting to work. The way he delicately handled the strips showed you that your little plan had worked wonders. You turned your attention to the ornaments you had been working on - only half-made, so the kids would finish the work and get the credit, of course. 

“Thank you, Johnny,” he barely glanced up at your voice, obviously fully focused on his new super important task, “you’re a life-saver.”

His little chuckle and the bump of his ankle against yours under the table filled you with warmth, “‘course, can’t leave my bonnie struggling.”

You somehow held back an eyeroll and swallowed the ‘likewise’ that almost escaped your lips. You’d let him take the credit too. 

Taglist: @warenai @embers-of-alluring @queen-of-hearts-lemon-tarts

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[savemefromanepicoftimewasted]

Pose For Me

Task Force 141, Alejandro, Rudy & Reader John "Soap" MacTavish X Reader

Price and Ghost had seen the way the two of you watched one another, chuckling to themselves at how smitten Soap was after only a few hours. They all knew better than to pursue anything when on duty, never ended well anyway.

a/n:thank you so much for all the love on my Price fic! this one is an idea I bounced off @gaylemonshark and honestly you can all thank them for this warnings:none except for Soap being a major simp

It had been Laswell’s idea, a way to help raise money for charity and what better way than a “sexy” calendar. Price had damn near doubled over with laughter, they wanted him and his team to pose for a calendar? And not think it was an outrageous idea at all? Doubtful. There was no way in hell any of them would be willing to do something so ridiculous.

“I’ll do it, sounds fun.” Soap was the first one to agree, damn near vibrating in his seat with excitement.

It didn’t take long for Gaz to agree, followed by Alejandro, Rudy, and then Ghost. Once Price knew that Ghost was willing to pose, eck, for the photos he couldn’t disagree. How hard could it be? They’d be told what to do the entire time anyway, surely it would go smoothly and then they could relax for a little while longer. That included getting on a plane and flying back to the US, why couldn’t they go somewhere closer? Price wasn’t going to argue, it meant a few days off from working and right now he wanted to sleep.

“Don’t flirt with the photographer please.” Laswell had her eyes locked on Soap, who merely raised his hands with an innocent shrug.

“That’s exactly what he’s going to do.” Gaz snickered when Soap glared over at him, this was going to be a long day.

“Boys, please.” Laswell pinched the bridge of her nose, waiting for you to arrive.

Price had been scoping out the area like normal, even if the average person would think he was strange for doing so. It was a habit he’d been unable to break for years, and this day was going to be no different. The double doors opening across the room caught everyone’s attention, Laswell was thankful she’d stripped them of their guns at that point.

“Hey! Sorry I’m so late, I had to run back home for my bag.” You dropped your stuff onto the closest table and began to pull everything out.

The lights had already been set up, as well as the backdrops to help speed things along so you wouldn’t have to waste anymore time. Luckily the first round of photos would be more safe, they’d be wearing their fatigues and posing on a large gothic chair. The chair design hadn’t been your idea at first, but after some convincing you decided to use it. As you were laying out your equipment all eyes were suddenly on Soap who was nearly drooling over you.

“Down boy.” Ghost smirked under his mask as Soap righted himself, clearing his throat as his cheeks flushed a pretty pink.

Once you had gotten the camera set up for the still shots you took a step back to look at your models for the day. You quickly introduced yourself to help ease any tension in the room, though you were sure they’d gotten a full background check beforehand.

“Alright, we’re going to start with some simple poses and then move on to some other fun ones.” You were excited, given the fact that all the men in front of you were insanely attractive.

“I’ll go first, show these boys how it’s done.” Alejandro was confident, striding over to the chair and relaxing effortlessly.

You giggled to yourself and started to snap a few photos, giving him different positions and poses until you were satisfied with what you had. Gaz was all too happy to rush over next, introducing himself in front of the camera before posing. He was clearly a natural at modeling, something you were a little surprised by. Then again most people were more comfortable when they were fully clothed. Gaz gave a cheeky salute when you sent him away, winking playfully.

“Next victim please.” You straightened your back for a few seconds, groaning as your spine cracked loudly.

Rudy was a little more nervous, poses stiff and uncomfortable until you helped ease him into something that looked more natural. It was normal for people to not like being photographed, but he wanted to help people and that warmed your heart. Towards the end of his shoot he seemed to truly open up, a bright smile on his face lighting up the room.

“Thank you!” Rudy walked off to meet with the wardrobe, unaware of what they had in store.

“Alrighty, whose next.” You were beyond grateful the men weren’t giving you a hard time, most male models were worse than the women.

The man that walked over sent a chill down your spine, the mask covering his face left everything to the imagination. His eyes were sharp, an emotion you couldn’t quite decipher.

“Wow, you’re really tall.” You could faintly make out his brow rising beneath the mask, as if he was confused by your statement.

“Comes with the territory.” He plopped down into the chair, the legs groaning beneath his weight.

You simply shrugged and began taking photos, keeping your gaze on the giant of a man in front of you. He was even more of a natural than Alejandro which kind of shocked you. Having a group be so photogenic was nice for a change. Then again, how were they going to react to the next phase?

“Thank you! You’re all set.” You couldn’t keep the smile off your face, mainly to hide the nerves that were bubbling up inside.

He didn’t say a word as he walked off, following one of the assistants to “prepare” for the next set of photos. Your eyes locked on the next man, he looked proud of himself as he walked over to you.

“Pleasure to meet you, thank you for making my men feel more comfortable.” Ahh, so this was clearly their Captain.

“Just doing my job sir.” You nodded at him, waiting until he was ready before snapping the first photo.

He, like Rudy, was a little stiff at first before finding a rhythm that seemed to work best. He seemed more than happy to keep taking photos, cracking a few jokes to make you laugh. It worked surprisingly well, keeping you more calm until you felt you had enough pictures. You shooed him off, not wanting to waste any time since you only had the studio for that day. And then there was only one person left, and damn was he a cutie.

“Aye there, ‘m Soap.” He was smiling like a fool, nearly falling onto his face as he tripped over his own feet.

“Nice to meet you.” You couldn’t help but giggle when he blushed, hiding his face for a brief second before composing himself.

So far he was your favorite to photograph, from the way he smiled to the way he seemed to exude sunshine. You couldn’t help the way your face flushed, he was such a charmer and he’d barely even spoken a sentence to you. Damnit, why did you have to get the cute ones that were never single?

“Thank you Soap, you’re free to go for now.” You set the camera down, taking out the memory card to slide into your laptop.

He was hesitant to leave, watching you with close eyes before heading off to where the rest of his team had gone. Alejandro had been more than ready to strip off his shirt and get oiled up, going out of his way to help Rudy build up the confidence. The men knew they had the physical attributes most men, and women, fawned over. But modeling it felt a little more personal in his eyes. Ghost had begrudgingly taken off his coat and shirt, taking the bottle from the assistant and lathering his skin quickly. Price raised a brow at him but kept all thoughts to himself to spare the other man’s feelings.

“Hey, are you guys almost ready to go?” You popped your head inside, brain short circuiting as you took everyone in.

They’d told you what the day entailed, but seeing it in person was a completely different story. You’d figured some of them would have scars, being in the military came with baggage you’d never begin to understand, but seeing six men oiled up and looking like snacks? You were amazed you were even still standing.

“Lass, could you uhh, help me please?” Soap was holding out the bottle to you, a sheepish grin on his face.

“Umm..yeah, of course.” You took the bottle without giving yourself time to second guess your actions, pouring a generous amount into your palm.

He turned so his back was to you, shoulders relaxed as he let you go to town. His skin was softer than you’d been expecting, the muscles beneath were damn near rock hard. How the hell were you supposed to focus after this?!

“You’re all set.” You dropped your hands to your sides, voice breathy as your head tilted back to look up at him.

“Thank you lass.” His smile was enough to melt the polar ice caps, jesus you were done for.

“Mmm, if you boys don’t mind I’m going to clean my hands and get ready for the next shoot.” In reality you needed to not only clean your hands, but clear your mind so you could focus.

Price and Ghost had seen the way the two of you watched one another, chuckling to themselves at how smitten Soap was after only a few hours. They all knew better than to pursue anything when on duty, never ended well anyway.

“Let’s go boys.” Price led them back out to the area, noticing the small subtle changes.

The lighting had been dimmed, giving everyone a more somber vibe. The order had been the same as before, each one posing in different ways until you were satisfied. Ghost’s photos, while a little darker, had an edge that set him apart from everyone else. Soap had used his body to his advantage, flexing and stretching to highlight the best parts of himself. You’d nearly dropped the camera when he sat down in the chair, legs spread wide open.

“Look at you, soaking up all the attention.” Gaz snickered, watching the way you were nearly fumbling everything trying to stay calm.

“‘S what I do best.” Soap smirked over at the other man, giving you the perfect opportunity to capture the best photo of him.

You were thankful to send the boys off once more, letting them know there would be plenty of towels to help get rid of any excess body oil. Price had mumbled that it was going to be stuck in his chest hair for the next few weeks. You felt bad, somewhat, but there was only one more photo to take before you’d be done for the end of the day. In a way you were a little sad to be sending them away, they were some of your best models, in both looks and attitude.

“Alright boys, one more and then you can all leave and complain about the girl that made you oil up for photos.” Laswell knew they wouldn’t hold it against you, but watching them complain was sometimes fun.

You had them all line up, cracking a joke that made everyone laugh as you took the photo. It was simplistic and perfect. Most people would complain they looked terrible whenever someone took a candid shot, but this showed the true side of these men. Even Ghost, the man you were definitely afraid of, was grinning.

“Thank you guys so much for coming today, when I have the photos edited I’ll send them to you for final approval before sending them off to be printed.” You’d be spending the next few weeks at minimum looking over these photos. Everything had to be perfect.

Soap wrung his hands together, slightly nervous as he watched you begin to pack up your gear carefully. Should he make a fool of himself and ask you out to dinner since they’d be around for a few more days, or should he cut his losses and let you go. Ghost subtly, if you could call it that, shoved him towards where you were standing. He turned to glare at the other man, brushing nonexistent lint off his shirt before walking over to your side.

“Hey, umm, I was wonderin’ if you’d be interested in goin’ to dinner with me?” Soap was nervous, something he couldn’t shake no matter what.

“Oh! I umm…Yes, that would be lovely.” You were shocked to say the least, not expecting this stunning man to ask you on a date.

“Great! Here.” He pulled his phone out from his pocket and shocked it into your hands.

You smiled and typed your number into his phone, sending yourself a text so that you’d have his number as well. Normally you were very against going out with any models you worked with, especially someone in the military. You mainly hoped this wouldn’t blow up in your face if it happened to go badly. It’s only one date, how bad could it be?

______

“You nervous?” Price knew that Soap was damn near shitting himself, even if the other man wouldn’t admit it.

“Not at all, everything’s fine.” He’d changed outfits twice, and lost his phone four times.

It was funny to watch the normally composed Soap practically run himself ragged over a woman he just met, but it also worried Price. What if she ended up breaking his heart before the end of the night? He’d be a mess the rest of the time they were on leave, and nothing was worse than an upset Soap.

“You might wanna head out, time’s a tickin’.” Ghost had been the one to mention the time, sending Soap into a frenzy as he ran out of the hotel.

You’d been dropped off by the uber less than two minutes before he was walking over to you, a bright smile on his face.

“Hey, hope you weren’t waiting long.” Johnny was more nervous now, heart rate kicking up at the sight of you.

“Not at all, just got here actually.” You brushed down the skirt of your dress.

“Shall we?” He held out his arm, laying his hand overtop of yours when you wrapped your fingers around his bicep.

The walk to the restaurant was short, and you were thankful you’d worn your more comfortable heels. Even with the slight boost in your height he still towered over you, and that was definitely doing something for you.

“What is your name exactly? Unless you’d like me to call you by your codename for the rest of the night.” The words sounded much more insidious than you’d intended, but the night was still young.

“Johnny.” He sounded much more confident saying his name than he had the entire day, it was cute.

The restaurant was quiet when you arrived, the hostess leading you two to a secluded table towards the back. He pulled out your chair, making sure he had a clear view of everyone else in case something were to happen. Even when he wanted to shut off his brain and enjoy the moment it wasn’t easy. Nothing would happen, he was sure of it.

“Thank you, for coming out with me tonight.” Though he felt embarrassed to admit it, he hadn’t been on a date in quite a long time.

“Thank you for asking me out to dinner.” You smiled at him, resting your hand over top of his on the table.

Johnny would never admit how badly his palms were sweating, the way his heart kicked into high gear. Now he was no blushing virgin, but there was something different about you that he was drawn to.

The night was what both of you would consider perfect, from the food, to the conversation that never seemed to dull down. You were both laughing at corny jokes, and even sharing food as if you’d done this a thousand times before. You didn’t want the night to end, ready to throw caution to the wind and invite him back up to your apartment. Unfortunately you knew that would be a bad idea, realistically he’d go back to base and you wouldn’t see him for a while.

Johnny refused to let you pay, let alone put down a tip, for the bill, claiming that he’d been the one to ask you out. It was a courteous gesture and you could feel your resolve slipping more and more with each second. He waited outside the restaurant with you until your uber arrived, wanting to make sure you at least got home safe.

“Don’t be a stranger, though I can’t promise I’ll be able to reply often.” He didn’t want to lie and say he’d be talking to you all the time, it wasn’t true.

“As long as you stay safe, that’s all that matters to me.” You turned to face him as the car pulled up beside you.

He cupped your cheek gently, pressing his lips against yours softly. You wound your arms around his neck, pulling him flush to your body as your lips moved in tandem with his. He wanted to keep kissing you forever, never letting the moment end. However he knew you had to get home and work on editing the new photos.

“Text me when you get home, alright?” Johnny was the first to pull away, leaving you breathless.

You could only nod, opening the car door and slipping into the backseat. Johnny watched you leave, a sad smile on his face. He wasn’t sure when he’d get to see you again, but he’ll be damned if it wasn’t soon enough.

_______

They were out on a mission when the photos were sent to Laswell for approval, she promised not to look at any of them until everyone was safe. It was burning a hole in her pocket, both excited and nervous to see what had been chosen as the “perfect” shot. There were minor injuries, which was to be expected, but overall everyone came back alive.

“Hello boys, I have some presents for you.” She laid the manilla folder on the table in front of them.

Everyone reached for the folder at once, stopping when Laswell pressed her hand overtop of it to prevent anyone from grabbing it.

“Now, you better behave and not make any remarks about your photos. Got it?” Laswell wouldn’t deal with the team pissing each other off.

“Yes ma’am.” They spoke in unison, which to anyone else would’ve been unnerving.

Laswell was used to it.

She took out both photos for everyone, handing them face down so they could look at them and inspect without someone else being nosy. Ghost was a little nervous to see what he looked like, he hadn’t been paid a lot of compliments in his day. The photo in front of him, while he was still fully clothed, was, in lack of a better term, gorgeous. The light reflected off his mask so effortlessly, giving the illusion of a lightness he didn’t think he had. The second photo, which he’d come to call his “skin” photo, had him taking a second glance. Was that truly him? The lighting was subtle enough to hide the scars that riddled his body, skin glistening.

“Well shit, I’d say she picked some damn good photos.” Laswell was impressed to say the least, the photos would definitely sell a lot of calendars.

“Gotta admit, she caught our good sides.” Gaz was proud of how he looked, he was tempted to ask if he could use it on his dating profile.

“Now I want to make sure you’re all comfortable with these before I give anyone the go ahead.” Laswell wasn’t going to do anything without their permission.

Everyone was in agreement that the photos could be used, there was no harm in what they were doing and everyone’s identities were protected. Soap was still staring down at his, a small smile on his face.

“What’s got you so giddy?” Ghost leaned over to get a better look, eyes widening when he realized that you’d snuck in something a little more special for him.

“Just a little gift.” Soap pulled the photos closer to himself, keeping them out of everyone’s view.

“I’ll give her a call tonight and give her the go ahead. Thank you boys.” Laswell nodded before leaving, giving the boys enough time to speak up if they weren’t comfortable.

The room fell silent, save for the sound of photos shuffling and breathing as the men took in the photos more.

“Safe to say she did amazing, don’t think I’ve looked this good in a while.” Price knew he was attractive, but seeing this side of him felt even better.

“I agree, but I have to make a phone call, I’ll be back later.” Soap pushed his chair away from the table, leaving the two photos behind as he slid a smaller polaroid into his wallet.

It was no secret to any of them that the two of you were going steady, being forced to listen to the Scotsman blabber about how amazing you were. The phone calls were few and far between, mainly because of his profession. He wanted to take you on another date, show you how better of a boyfriend he could be. It just took time, and you were willing to wait as long as it took.

[decaf-mother]

"Heaven Knocked"

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MDNI

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John 'Soap' Mactavish x F!Reader

Civilian|Y/N

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Inspired by @sofasoap

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Warnings: Cheesy Fluff, Mention of asshat dudes

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You have had so many bad experiences with pick up lines being thrown your way- eyes that wander in a way they shouldn't. Cockiness, self-righteous, and generally horrendous attitudes of men that cross your path.

Just recently yet another failed date where you were forced to sit and listen to a guy mansplain your own job to you.

God, these shitheads need to be glitter bombed.

Standing outside now beneath the harsh rays of sunlight, eyes cast out towards the rolling sea. The breeze at least made the heat not so unbearable.

The sound of a new pair of feet approaching dragged you out of your head.

"Beautiful day, yeah?"

His thick Scottish accent definitely peaked your interest, taking in his features carefully you felt your heart freeze for a second... Those eyes.

The rolling blue of them mimicked the sea perfectly, so much hidden beneath the surface- something you could certainly get lost in if you weren't careful.

So, for your own sake you quickly looked away.

"Yeah... It is a beautiful day..."

You weren't sure if the conversation was going to go anywhere or how to take it anywhere- this man is a stranger but you prayed he'd talk more.

You tried to convince yourself it's just because he has a nice accent.

Or maybe his little mohawk was endearing in a way.

Or those blue eyes-

No... Stop that.

"Ever go swimming out there?"

"What- no. Are you crazy?"

You looked at him as though he'd lost his mind- earning a laugh.

Who in their right mind would swim in the ocean?

Sure- people do it. But you wouldn't be caught dead stepping foot in that giant death soup.

"Bet it'd be cool on a day like today."

"I'd rather cool off with ice cream."

With a small flicker in his eyes he turned towards you, you created the perfect opening for him... He was wondering how to lead into this.

"How about we go get some ice cream, then?"

"Y'know what- sure."

••

Of course one date lead to several and you didn't regret chatting with that friendly stranger for a single moment.

Sure- he uses cheesy pick up lines nearly constantly... But it's sweet.

There is nothing shallow in the way he looks at you and there is never any 'just trying to get in your pants' type attitude.

Instead he just wants to see you smile and laugh, heart warming to say the least.

He waltzed into the kitchen and you knew just based off his grin.

"Johnny-"

"Bonnie ye won't believe what just happened."

"I'm sure I won't."

He wasn't even mildly discouraged by your remark, resting his hands on the counter keeping his eyes locked on you. Deep rolling blue.

"Heaven knocked and they want their angel back."

You knew it was coming but still chuckled nonetheless.

"Are you seriously going to use a pick-up line on me everytime you come over?"

"Yep."

"Won't you run out?"

"Not anytime soon."

You sighed and pretended to be annoyed... But you hoped he'd never run out.

It's not like other guys cheesy pick up lines... No... Never.

At this point you swore Johnny is the angel that heaven is missing.

"Think you're hiding some wings or somethin' from me..."

"Aha! I'm rubbing off on ye."

"Oh, cut it out."

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{My brain is so silly recently.}

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{@gothgirl6-6-6 @soupbinsoup }

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{More Content}

[thybreadmolds]

Silly Ghoap mini-comic incoming!

Sometimes we blurt out the most random stuff… Especially Soap.

[bagofshinyrocks]

Government name vs Military callsign

Prompt: What scares them worse? Addressing them by their full government name, or addressing them by their military callsign?

Featuring: Task Force 141 (CoD: MW2) - John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish (separately) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Warnings: none

John Price

Government name.

Calling him Captain or Skipper just ends with him sauntering to where ever you are and ask (in an obnoxiously self-satisfied voice) what you wanted. Like a cat pretending it can’t hear the urgency in your tone when you say to get off the counter.

“If you want me to ‘shake a leg’, call my name, luvie.”

Now if you holler “Jonathan Price”, he’ll drop something. Either the newspaper in his hands, or his heart into his stomach. He sure as hell moves his ass with a purpose, and he’s peering into the room with an apology on his lips.

“Yes, luv? What’s wrong, poppet?”

“Lift the other end of the couch, would you?”

He does, and you shimmy it further back in the room. “Anything else I can do, love o’ my life?” He’s hovering, and gently coaxing you into his arms. Gauging how mad you were at him. You curled into him and kissed his chin. Then stepped away with a pat to his chest.

“No, sweetheart, just wanted you to shake a leg is all.”

When he remembers your previous conversation, he groans and tells you to fuck off.

Simon Riley

Military callsign.

When you two are alone, and he’s already given you permission to call him Simon, don’t call him Ghost. When you say that word, he assumes one of his mates are at the door or on the phone, and goes from Simon to Ghost. Stalks into the room with narrowed eyes, only to find you in the kitchen. By yourself.

“Ghost, you want a sandwich too? Turkey and cheese.”

“Fuck you callin’ me that for?” 

Once he sees you’re alone, he swoops in and wraps around you like a hoodie. A firm kiss to your ear, then your cheek, then spun you around. Back pressed to the counter top. Settles his face right close to yours.

“We playin’ games now?” You didn’t want to upset him, so you pressed a kiss to his nose. His grumpy look faded a bit.

“Sorry, baby.” Arms wrapped carefully around his shoulders. And your fingers scratch his scalp. Another kiss to his nose. “I’m sorry for playing games with you. Simon Riley.”

Hearing his name on your lips finally cracked, and he gave you a smile. A little scar on the upper lip. You gave it a kiss, and then pressed a kiss to his lips. 

A quick surge forward, and you only just had time to shove aside the things behind you before you found yourself on the countertop.

Kyle Garrick

Government name.

He doesn’t mind being called Gaz, and you’ll use Kyle and Gaz interchangeably. Doesn’t even mind if you use “Kyle” or “honey” in front of his squadmates. Though “Kylie” he does have some displeasure with.

“I’ll have you know, Soap is still calling me Kylie, you asshole.”

Call him ‘Garrick’, and he knows that you are pretending to be mad at him. He slinks over and rubs his face against your cheek. He’s too cute for you to stay mad.

If you shout “Kyle Garrick”, he comes running. He could have sworn that he put his clothes in the hamper. And did the dishes. And taken out the recycling. Damn, what was it that he forgot?

“Kyle Ga-”

“Yes, dear!” Shit, he didn’t mean to ‘yes, dear’ you. “Yes, my dear, I’m right here.”

You pause your laundry folding and summon him with a crook of your finger. Once he’s close enough, you tap your lip with the same finger. “I need a kiss.”

He blinked once. Then twice. “God damn you.” He squishes your face in his hands and gave you a quick, firm kiss. “Don’t stress me out like that. Thought you were mad.”

“Give me another kiss, or I will be.”

He rapid fire kissed your mouth, chin, and cheeks, then gave you a smack on the ass before returning to the living room. 

“In my own fucking home,” he muttered.

John MacTavish

Military callsign.

He’s got some thick skin. And he’s had his name shouted angrily many a time. He would all but skip into the room with a big smile on his face. The only people who shouted that name (and wore out the scare-factor on it) were his family members. Shouting “John MacTavish” meant you loved him. You were also mad at him, but you loved him. That was more important. Even with your scowl and the gross pile of garbage he kept forgetting to take out. You loved him.

Now shouting his callsign reminded him of his superior officers.

“SOAP!”

Shit shit shit. He put down his beer and ran from the garage to the backyard. Leg brace over his sweats, low cut muscle shirt that you also wolf-whistle at when he wears. You were only weeding the garden boxes.

“JOHNNY!”

“I’m here, bonnie,” he hollered, rounding the corner. You were sitting in the dirt, a tidy pile of weeds and dead plant bits next to you.

“C’mere, c’mere.”

He leaned down next to you, hand on your shoulder and good knee on the ground. “Wassit?”

You pointed to the leaf in your hand. “A caterpillar, Johnny. An itsy-bitsy caterpillar.”

He sighed heavily and kissed your shoulder. “Bonnie, I thought something was wrong.”

“Hm?” You spared him a glance. “What are you talking about, bubba?”

“You called me Soap.”

“Did I? Didn’t mean to spook you, loverboy.” You gave him an apologetic kiss on the lips. “Just wanted you to see the caterpillar before he wiggled off.”

Posted: 2023 Dec 10

[soleilapproves]

You’re eating fruit and your friends can’t stop watching. (Ghost and Soap)

Notes: suggestive, crack fic.

main masterlist

One would think that the two men were on the battlefield with the way they were intently staring at you.

Simon was focused on the way you’d take a bite out of your apple, lips wrapping around the curvature of the fruit as your teeth sunk into its crisp flesh.

So pretty and plump. Like an apple

Johnny was too busy staring at the droplets of juice that were trailing down your chin. He could almost taste the tartness as he imagined himself licking you clean. He had to bite his lip to keep himself from moaning when he saw you lick your lips to clean up the stickiness left behind.

You then disposed of the apple and grabbed a banana. Simon’s hand immediately latched on to his thigh. He began to shift in his seat as he watched you take a bite of the banana.

However, you didn’t chew the entire thing and kept a morsel of it in your left cheek, too distracted to chew because you were on your phone.

Simon’s fingers dug into his thighs at the sight.

He felt like a dog in heat.

Johnny began to imagine his own-

“What are you two fuckin’ idiots doing here? Get back to your work stations!” Price barked as he walked into the base’s lounge area.

But Simon and Johnny were too entranced by you to respond.

Confused, Price looked in the same direction as them to see what was so interesting.

“Oh.” The captain breathed out with a slight blush.

_

part 2 (no smut :/, but lots of kissing)

[gloomwitchwrites]

Oral Festivities - John "Soap" MacTavish x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: roommate au, flirting, gift giving, swearing, friends to lovers, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected piv, dirty talk

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: For Kinkmas 2024 (Face Sitting)

Stuck at home on Christmas Eve, your roommate, Johnny, surprises you with a gift he’s been wanting to give you.

ao3 // main masterlist // kinkmas 2024 masterlist

“All alone this year? Thought you were visiting family?”

You turn your attention away from the television and glance at your roommate, Johnny. It takes everything in you to keep your jaw in place.

There is no reason for a man to be this attractive. Johnny is freshly showered, his skin still speckled with a few spare drops of water. His dark hair is damp, the usual mohawk he sports combed to the side. The woodsy scent of his aftershave drifts around you, filling your lungs, and enveloping you in a tight hug.

Johnny grins, tipping his head to the side to rub his ear with the corner of the towel. "Did you hear me, love?"

Hells, why does he have to go and address you like that?

Every part of you tingles from the crown of your head to the space between your thighs. Your gaze roams downward, fueling the thought of licking up those droplets of water right off his pectorals.

"Plans were cancelled." Your voice cracks slightly and you cough to clear it. "Not going anywhere."

Johnny's face falls slightly. "Sorry to hear that." His handsome smile returns quickly. "Looks like it's just us."

Oh my God.

"Looks like it," you reply, heart thundering in your chest.

The snow outside is large and fluffy, blanketing everything it touches. There is little movement except for an occasional car braving the cold. It's unlikely that either of you are leaving this apartment anytime soon.

Johnny rubs at his other ear and plops down on the couch beside you, extending one arm across the back of the sofa. Other than the towel he’s holding, he's in plain black gym shorts. Every muscle is on display, and it has to be deliberate.

Johnny settles, the towel draped over one leg. "Is that friend of yours coming over?" he asks slowly.

You frown. "Which friend?"

Johnny side-eyes you. "The guy."

"Oh." You lick your lips. "No."

That guy. The casual hook-up. The guy that didn't "want to put a label" on the relationship. Really, he means nothing. The orgasms aren't even worth all the messages left on read.

Johnny grunts. "Did he get you anything?"

You laugh but it feels hollow. "I wouldn't exactly call us friends."

"Good."

"Good?"

"We're friends, no?" Johnny leans in, and you suddenly realize just how large and broad he is.

"Roommates," you reply softly.

"But friends?"

"Yes," you breathe.

Maybe more if you're open.

Johnny's grin is wide but not malicious. It's almost...flirty? No. That can't be. Sure, he moved in just six months ago, but that hardly accounts for anything. He's a responsible adult, and respectful of your space, but interested in you?

You think back, trying to rummage through every interaction. Old memories resurface, and you suddenly begin questioning every word and gesture. All those times he placed his hand on your lower back, of the pet names you originally dismissed as nothing, to the tight hugs when your jerk of situationship left you hanging.

How many times do you think about Johnny in a given day? About him being a possibility?

If you’re truly being honest, it’s far too many to count.

But that’s entirely one-sided. You don’t know his mind.

"I got you something," he says, voice a bit husky.

Johnny's timbre does something to you. Without thought, you scoot a fraction closer to him on the couch. Johnny matches the movement, his head dipping slightly. It's far too intimate.

"A present?" you ask, adding a bit of tease to your tone, your thighs rubbing against each other as your pussy clenches.

Johnny's cheeks darken slightly, a bit of pink kissing his skin. You're completely done for. There's nothing you won't give him.

Johnny cradles the side of your neck, thumb resting just shy of your lower lip. "One I've wanted to give for a while, love. If you want it."

If you want it.

"I'll take it."

Johnny's reply is a pleased sound that comes deep in his throat. Closing the distance, he presses his lips to yours. It's soft. Sweet. Not dominating or possessive, but a promise. If you let him in, if you keep going, maybe this might work out.

"Another?" he asks against your lips.

"Yes,” you sigh, wanting to breathe him in.

This time when Johnny kisses you, it isn't sweet. Each kiss is possessive, a needy thing that sends your insides twisting. His hand shifts position, moving to the back of your neck, grasping tightly. Reaching out, you place one hand against his firm chest, the hair there scratching your skin.

Fuck it. You need to assert some desire, to show Johnny that you'd enjoy more than just kisses.

Pushing on him, you shove Johnny back against the sofa, straddling his legs to settle in his lap. His smile is knowing—cocky. And then the two of you are right back to, all moving hands and desperate mouths.

Johnny lightly bites your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth, pulling a little moan from you. The tip of his tongue briefly brushes against it, and then he's teasing, wanting entrance. His hands roam, dragging and digging at your clothes.

One of Johnny's hands returns to the back of your neck, the tips of his fingers holding tight, dragging you away from his mouth.

"I've been wanting to do that for months."

"Months?" you ask, a little dazed.

"Months," he growls, leaning in to run his lips over your neck. He breathes you in, savoring your scent. "And that wasn't the gift."

"It's not?" Your question is more a gasp of air.

"No." Johnny lifts his head.

"What is it?"

Johnny presses his lips to your ear as his fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pajama bottoms. "To taste you."

He guides them past your hips and over your ass before pausing at your thighs. Just another pull and they'll be halfway to your knees.

"Johnny," you gasp, fingers digging into his shoulders.

"Can I taste you, love?” Johnny’s lips brush against your cheek. “Will you spread those pretty thighs for me?" With a slight twist of his wrist, Johnny’s hand delves between your legs, the tips of his fingers brushing over your exposed clit. “Want to put my mouth here.”

His other arm hooks around your back. With a quick adjustment, Johnny goes onto his back with you straddling his lap.

“Right here, love.” Johnny gestures at his face. “Come sit on it.”

"But—but I'll—"

"You'll what? Crush me? Suffocate me?" He chuckles. "Promise you won't, love." Johnny leans back, head resting against the pillow. Lifting his hands, he gestures for you to get closer. "Come here to me."

As you go up onto your knees, Johnny helps you out of your pajama bottoms, leaving your lower-half completely bare. Just as you start to settle back into his lap, Johnny promptly grasps your thighs squeezing.

“Face. Now.”

With a strength that surprises you, Johnny drags you up the rest of his body, settling you down on his face without ceremony. Your hands go out to steady yourself. One lands on the arm of the sofa while the other finds Johnny’s firm chest.

His breath is hot against your sex, making you gasp at the contact. With a groan, Johnny's tongue teases your opening, not sliding in but just dancing around it. The tip of his nose presses against your clit. Each tiny movement causes it to rub against your clit, sending little bolts of pleasure up your spine.

“Oh—fuck. Johnny,” you groan, head falling back as his tongue marks a languid circle up and around your pussy.

His large hands are on your hips, keeping you in place. Each pass of his tongue is a delicious tease, but it’s not nearly enough. You need to feel him everywhere, to have him inside you, even if it’s just his tongue.

Another groan from Johnny, and this time, is vibrates against your sex. It’s followed by a gentle roll of his tongue. Your hand on his chest slips, sliding to his stomach. Johnny’s fingers flex and hold tight, bringing you closer until you swear you’ll suffocate him.

But it doesn’t seem to bother Johnny at all. His tongue delves inside, gently stroking as the tip of his nose continues to rub against your clit. It stirs the growing pleasure, pushing it to new heights. Your hips jerk, but Johnny holds form fucking your pussy with his tongue.

Johnny’s hands begin to move. One curves to the top of your hip, pressing down to keep you in place. The other ascends, slipping underneath your top to slide between your breasts. His heat is a brand. The sensation of his tongue inside you with the stimulation to your clit is quickly driving you toward the edge.

A guttural moan leaves your lips. You tip back further, hand sliding until you meet gym shorts, and a hardness that cannot be denied. You want to fuck this man, to rip off his shorts, and ride him until he’s shooting blanks.

Another dip of his tongue inside you. Another grinding against clit.

The orgasm bursts outward, pussy squeezing around Johnny’s tongue. He does not stop. Not until your thighs quiver and squeeze against the sides of his head.

Johnny’s hand disappears from your chest, and then he’s helping you off his face, bringing you to his stomach. The lust-drenched haze still clouds your vision. You’re not entirely aware of your surroundings until Johnny shifts up on his elbows.

You go for him just as he goes for you. He tastes of you, and that only spurs you on, to seek entrance with your tongue. Johnny obliges with a smile, even as he continues to come to a more seated position.

You’re both reaching for his shorts, shoving them down enough until you feel his hardness bounce against the curve of your ass.

“Get on my dick,” growls Johnny, as you shift backward, lightly nipping at your left nipple.

The head of his cock drags against your ass before coming to rest against your sex. It starts to press in. Johnny’s tongue brushes over the nipple he just teased with his teeth. Sliding down on him is both agony and bliss.

With a smirk, you pop your hips up before coming back down on him. Johnny’s eyelids flutter briefly in pleasure.

“And this is my gift to you, Johnny.”

taglist:

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@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

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[bluegiragi]

trapdoor.

early access + nsfw on patreon monster!AU masterpost

[macravishedbymactavish]

First "I love you" (TF141 x GN!Reader Headcanons)

Since I literally can't focus on writing the series I have started, have some headcanons instead

TW: Swearing, typical COD violence and themes (mild spoilers in Price's bit), some clichè themes

Blog HQ

Ghost

Saying I love you...

You told him the first time he returned to your shared home following deployment

Sure the two of you had been together for a fair while before this, but its the first time you were alone in your shared space. It was the first time you really felt how empty home was without him.

You didn't want to distract him prior to leaving for the mission, so you whispered those 3 little words to him mid-kiss when he was home with you.

Heart full, and the breath you didn't realize you were holding all this time released. He was back in your arms. Your home was back with you.

Hearing I love you...

As with the other headcanons I write, I'm a firm believer that Simon isn't as emotionally unavailable or closed off due to past trauma as much as so much time in solitude. The last meaningful connection he had ended not the greatest, so he wasn't keen on seeking this out. It's been a while, our man is pretty uneducated in the modern romance department.

With his "lack of experience due to time alone" he is honestly a bit overwhelmed and terrified of this. He loves you, all of his heart. He loves you with the same amount of his heart as he loved them.

Sure, it's a different love altogether (familial vs romantic), but the feelings are overwhelming no less.

He clearly doesn't say it back right away (even though God he wants to). He wants to make sure he means it and portrays just how much he means it before diving right in. He wants it to be as close to perfect for you as possible.

Surprisingly, the perfect moment comes when you're falling asleep one night. You're snuggled into his chest, warm, content. Mumble a soft I love you, Simon.

His response comes naturally, a soft I love you too whispered into the darkness. Then everything just seemed to fall into place.

That night was the best sleep either of you ever had.

Gaz

Saying I love you...

I feel like with Kyle it would happen at the exact same time. Like....literally the same time. So imma just:

Saying I love you/Hearing I love you...

It would definitely come when the two of you are most comfortable around one another. Probably during a lazy night at home.

Cooking together perhaps? Little bit of teamwork, mixed with teasing comments and stolen kisses as you manuever around one another.

Or maybe playing video games (cozy couch co-op or fiercely competitive. No inbetween. Take your pick).

Flip side of the coin: you're getting wound down from a night out. Stripping out of the stupid fancy clothes you decided were a good idea to wear out. Spoiler: it wasn't a good idea. Next time let's do something more casual.

No matter what the situation is, you're doing it together and your hearts couldn't be fuller. Happily in the apartment you two share, just enjoying one another.

"I could live like this forever without complaint" you'd start, smiling over at him (even if he beat your ass at whatever game you were playing with no mercy)

"Didn't know I was dating an immortal" he'd tease back. "Share your secrets with me"

"No!"

"Why not????"

"I simply cannot share my secrets with a doof like you"

Your play argument ending in him trying to tickle you, or play wrestle you, or just anything that results in the two of you (INNOCENTLY) tangled up together. Like super clichè looking into the others eyes as you lay/sit there. Lost in the moment and realizing it's no longer "I like like you" but rather:

"I love you"

Said, by the two of you, at the exact same time.

Queue laughter, shared kisses and full hearts.

Soap

Saying I love you...

My mind automatically went to lost on a road trip trope. Like you two would plan out an entire day, wanting to visit the spot you two would hang out at all the time pre-relationship.

Except you're both too distracted by conversation and jamming to whatever playlist you had in the background to realize: your turn is well into the rear view.

By the time he realizes he's now driving on roads he doesn't recognize, it's too late. You're pretty far out of the way, and the clouds in the sky don't look super promising.

"T'hell with it! We have our lunch here" he'd propose, finding a small hill in the distance. "Our new spot™️"

So that'd exactly what you do. An improvised little lunch, in your new trademarked spot.

It was after lunch, when you both were full and ready for a food coma. You don't know what overtook you to say it. You didn't even realize you were saying it until his eyes dialted and a small smirk crossed his lips.

"You love me, aye?"

Hearing I love you...

He would have no hesitation saying it back, except for you playfully smacking him while yelling his name.

He'd be so in shock that someone as lovely as you would feel that way toward someone like him.

You!! Loving him!!

The next time he'd try to say it back, it would be interrupted by thunder in the distance, and the urgency to start packing up your things and getting home before too long.

It was when you make the journey from the vehicle to the house through the pouring rain when he decided now was the time. Watching you laugh, try and fail to keep yourself dry that it came out.

"I love you too"

"That's nice. But it's raining fucking hard so can we go inside and be cute after?"

You two were 100% cute inside after that. Lots of "I love yous" shared back and forth that night.

Price

Saying I love you...

Hear me out though, what if it were you captured with Kate (in that one mission, the one that solidified that Gaz shouldn't be in aircrafts anymore).

No matter how you feel in that moment (terrified, oddly calm, pissed to high hell) one thought would be in the front of your mind:

You've never said I love you.

Sure, you've told him the various things that you love about him. But never told him straight out that you love him in his entirety.

So as you sit, guns pointed at you. Ready to cause harm and death if needed. You find yourself reflecting on your relationship.

The ups, the downs, the victories and hardships. The way that you used to find his overbearing nature to be insufferable at times...you're now viewing it in a new light.

Maybe that's just because you're standing on death's doorstep wondering if he's going to answer today.

The crash, the chaos. You truly wonder if it's the end. Until you're pulled away from eternities grasp and brought back to reality. Face to face with your boyfriend who is clearly fighting back his own emotions. Still convincing himself that you're alive.

"I love you, John" comes out so naturally as you launch yourself at him. Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of his gear pressing into you. He was here, he had you.

Hearing I love you...

John would 110% be beside himself. Trying to figure out how he let this happen, concerned that he won't get to you in time, letting his mind run wild with worse case scenarios.

Whether you work in the military or not -- you were never supposed to be in this type of situation.

Getting the call that you were MIA and now a POW caused his heart to stop. To grow a shade colder as he reminded himself he needs to breathe.

Won't do you a whole lot of good if he's passed out.

While he wants to call the shots and lead the charge to get you back safe, he does step back and let his teammates take point. Considering it's a glaring conflict of interest for him to be there, captain or not.

The entire time they're fighting to get to you, all he can think of is how this is inadvertently his fault. Running through everything to figure out where he went wrong. Where did he slack off? What could he have done differently?

He also vowed in this moment to keep you safe for the rest of your lives. Even if you hated him, if you never wanted to see him again because of this. He would never, ever anything like this happen to you again.

When they finally reach the front of the convoy, he's ready to pass out or punch someone out if they don't move out of his way. Much like a mama bear and her cub, you don't get between John and his love in this moment.

His team makes quick work of the enemies, as he approaches one of the doors. Heart hammering inside his chest, hands shaking slightly as tears burn the back of his eyes. Pleading to anyone listening that you be alive.

When you barreled into him and whispered those words to him he could've fallen over. His legs almost not supporting him. You were alive, you love him. You were alive. You love him. He repeated this over in his head as he held you close.

Whispering the words back, cursing himself for how his voice broke halfway through.

You were alive. You love him.

Taglist: @bloodonmyhands-1221 @v1naco @bowtruckleninja

[operationdeadbolt]

Just What I Needed

Pairing: Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish x fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff, mutual pining, best friends to lovers, suggestive language, mentions of feeling insecure 

Summary: Johnny braves the snowstorm to your house, you brave the storm to let him into your heart. 

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N:  I don’t think I’ll ever be able to write as good as my last fic but here’s some sweet johnny to make up for it 🫂 sorry for all the world building I need someone to tell me when to shut up !! 

Of all the times for a snowstorm to hit, it just had to be the week your best friend finally got home on leave.

For the past few months, seeing Johnny again had been the only thing on your mind. You two kept in as much contact as you could, texting each other when he was able to and exchanging letters while he was deployed. The last time you two talked, his excitement was evident even on pencil and paper about the prospect of being reunited with you, the same words that echoed every time he was away over the course of your friendship. 

It seemed like fate brought you together all those years ago when a simple walk in the park to clear your mind coincided with the casual football match Johnny was playing with the lads. One errant ball flying your way led to your world spinning, in multiple ways, as you landed on the ground with a huff, a broad set of shoulders slamming against your own as your eyes met the most delicate pools of blue. Coupled with his tousled mohawk, scruffy stubble and that jagged scar on his chin, it was hard not to notice how ruggedly handsome he was. He took your breath away.

Truly, he took it away. The wind was knocked out of you after his miraculous dive stopped the ball from flying into the woods but failed to spare you from being body slammed into the grass. The view made up for it, however, and so did getting to hear that wonderful Scottish accent as apology after apology spilled from his lips. 

Name was John MacTavish, he said, but you could call him Johnny. This was not how a woman should be treated by a man like him, so why don’t you let him buy you a coffee sometime to make up for it? One quick exchange of phone numbers plus a flash of a boyish grin and he was running back to the field, leaving you standing there to wonder if that actually just happened.

He was a man of his word, evidently, because your phone buzzed that night with plans to meet up at his favorite local coffee shop. It took all you had in you to swallow down your nerves and agree to his plans for the next day. He was a gentleman through and through, pulling out your chair and pointing out his favorites on the menu. The conversation flowed naturally, even when you eventually let him take over while you kept quiet and nervously bounced your leg under the table. Johnny picked up on this, but didn’t let your shyness deter him or make things awkward like so many others had tried to do in the past. It made you feel more calm in his presence, knowing that he had only known you less than a day and already understood you.

Johnny told you about his family in Scotland, his sisters that he insisted would absolutely find you endearing and his mum who would be thankful he was actually putting himself out there, especially around a woman as ‘bonnie’ as yourself. You asked him what that unfamiliar word meant and couldn’t stop your breath from catching after he told you he was calling you pretty. Just your luck you managed to run into a guy who was so casually flirty and effortlessly attractive. 

The rest of that afternoon together went smoothly, and it was only right before you parted ways that he told you about his status in the army, admitting his schedule was iffy at best but he would like to do this again when he’s back home, if you wanted to, and he would pull whatever strings he could to put in the effort to fit you in.

In all honesty, you never thought you’d see him again after that. Even after your so-called meet cute that all your friends gushed about the moment you told them about it, and the ‘date’ where you found yourself completely captivated by the sergeant. You’re admittedly shocked when he keeps in contact with you, sending you message after message about anything and everything. You’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t acknowledge that you were falling for Johnny.

You didn’t have any qualms about dating a military man, but there was that voice in the back of your head gnawing at you that he would be simply settling if you got with him. The chemistry you two shared was palpable, however, and you were more than happy to stay friends with Johnny. You two were quick to talk almost every day, and it was when he came home from that first deployment after your paths crossed that he took you to meet his family. Turns out they did indeed like you just as much as he said they would. 

All these years later, and you can confidently say the man who barreled you over that day in the park was now your best friend you couldn’t live without. Funny how that works.

This past deployment was one of his longest yet, weeks turning into months as you rarely were able to hear from him. Letters helped, but all you wanted to do was to be able to have him in front of you once more.

You didn’t know why, but all the feelings that had materialized back when you met him started to resurface during this time too. Maybe it was the way he did anything he could to be able to communicate with you, the sketches he mailed with a ‘wish you were here, darling’ attached to them. The idea of being more than friends with Johnny started to cloud your thoughts about him.

All this just made it that more disappointing when the snow that was initially meant to be mild turned out to be a full out blizzard. Your heart was heavy as you shot Johnny a text telling him you weren’t going to be able to make it over to him, tossing your phone somewhere on the couch as you curled up on it to try to keep yourself warm. 

The heating must’ve been on the fritz again, because you could swear it felt colder inside than it did outside. You brought your knees to your chest, tucking your chin behind them as you tried not to cry from the sheer frustration of not getting to see Johnny and having to get turned into a miserable human icicle at the same time. 

You were just about to drag yourself to bed to make your brain shut off for the rest of the day when you heard knocking at your front door. Who would be crazy enough to be out in such a snowstorm? You probably should’ve been able to piece it together just from that thought alone, but all you could think at the moment was if fight or flight was going to win out.

“Lass? Open up. Dinnae know how much longer I can be out here.” You’d know that voice from anywhere. Unbelievable. You slowly make your way over to the door, cautiously opening it to try and prevent it from slamming against the wall from the sheer force of the wind.

“Johnny? What the hell are you doing?”

He looks like a lost puppy. Blue eyes staring at you almost pathetically while standing in at least a foot of snow. Those pretty eyes of his light up when he sees you, even though you can tell he’s tired from everything he’s gone through the past few months.

You look him up and down, soaking in the sight of the Scot in front of you. The bottom of his jeans are soaked from making contact with the snow, his hoodie either a size too small or his muscles a size too big. Not wearing any gloves and the tips of his ears are red from the wind. And yet, still so ridiculously good looking.

“Where's your hat?” You sigh after he does nothing but shrug sheepishly.

“Didnae wanna mess up the hair.”

“That’s what it looks like when it’s cleaned up?” You raise an eyebrow at him, flashing your teeth to let him know you’re just messing with him, really. The mohawk looks perfect no matter what he does to it.

Your heart flutters when he cocks his head to the side and grins back at you. God he looks handsome when he smiles.

“I’m kidding, MacTavish. You look good. C’mere.” You bury your face in his hoodie, holding onto him tightly like he’ll disappear if you don’t keep him grounded. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you more.” He sighs softly as he lets his broad arms completely envelope you. You two stay like that for what feels like forever before he reluctantly pulls away, slipping his backpack off his shoulder and unzipping it to pull out one of his spare hoodies. 

“Had a feeling you wouldn’t be bundled up enough. Here.” You lift your arms up as he slips the jacket over you, immediately warming you up and filling your senses with his own scent that you’ll never get enough of.

“Thank you Johnny.” you murmur, smiling yet again as he folds the sleeves perfectly over your wrists. You wonder if he’s ever noticed he’s the only one who’s ever been able to make you feel this happy.

“Dinnae mention it. It’s the least I could do.” he replies, completely nonchalantly as he makes his way through the living room. 

“Johnny, you’re tracking snow all over- Johnny!” you groan, shaking your head with a laugh at the trail of ice and snow falling from his boots. Oh sweet boy, he’ll be the death of you in so many ways.

“I ken I am.” He kicks off his boots, neatly placing them against the stairwell. “Sorry, couldnae resist. You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

Oh that does it. Forget the hoodie and the lack of central heating, your face is burning up so fiercely when he says that, you may as well have become a fireplace. Why does he get away with using such flirtations as casual banter? Well yes, you’re the one who allows him to do it, but damn it Johnny. Not cool.

“Wanna make ye something to fill you up, get you nice and warm.” He doesn’t even notice the way you’re still standing in the living room, jaw slightly agape as you try to settle down. Johnny goes over the admittedly bare contents of your pantry, finally landing on one of the cans of soup pushed into the back. “Perfect. C’mon, lass, let’s get you taken care of.” 

You blink, shaking your head as your legs catch up with your brain and you walk over to the kitchen, stepping over the puddles forming from the melting ice (thanks a lot, John) and rifling through the drawers till you procure a can opener. You can’t help but giggle as he fumbles with it, even though you soon fall silent as his hand completely covers yours while the two of you work to twist the stupid thing over the lip of the can.

“Just relax, doll. You deserve it.” he hums, setting up the pot with ease as you lift yourself onto the kitchen island to sit back and watch him go to work.

It’s not fair that he can look so good so casually, the sleeves of his hoodie pulling against him just right, the fabric tight against his biceps as they flex every time he stirs. He’s making soup. It’s just some damn soup. Yet it feels so... obscene? Who let him be so perfect? You can’t help but think that maybe you could get used to seeing this. 

Coming home to Johnny when he’s on leave, dinner cooking on the stovetop as a record plays in the background. Wrapping your arms around him from behind as he keeps one hand on the pot handle, the other splayed over both of yours as his thumb rubs over the backs of them. Swaying softly together as you stand in content peace. Perhaps you’ll even feel the coldness of the ring on his left hand, the metal covering up the wedding band tattoo he got with your initials for when he can’t wear his ring in the field.

It doesn’t take long for your thoughts to wander elsewhere. He’d look even better standing over the stove making you breakfast after a long night together. You wearing his shirt with nothing else underneath, him wearing just a pair of sweats to show off the trails of bites and marks you left on his skin. One of you, probably Johnny, will make a comment about how you two need to eat to get your energy up for another round. The food will be put on the back burner (literally) as Johnny turns around to slot his lips in between yours as he murmurs something about taking you right on the counter. Maybe the kiss will deepen as he plays with the hem of your shirt and maybe his fingers will slip under the fabric and then he’ll-

“Dove?” You snap out of your daydream to see those ocean eyes of his meeting yours, the mild confusion evident in his face. It takes a moment to register the wooden spoon hovering in front of your lips as he cups his hand under your chin. “I asked if you wanted a taste test?”

As inviting as that pumpkin soup looks, right now you’re still thinking about another substance Johnny can conjure up that you’d be all too willing to have a taste of. You push those thoughts to the back of your mind as you try to remember to blink.

“Y-yeah. Sure.” You can’t help but cringe at the hesitation in your voice as you open your mouth slightly for him to press the spoon into. “Tastes nice, Johnny. Really nice. You’re spoiling me.”

Your tongue flicks out as you absentmindedly lick at a drop of the soup from the corner of your mouth. Maybe if you were paying attention instead of staring at the wall in front of you as you try to regulate yourself, you would notice how Johnny’s eyes focus on your tongue for just a tad too long before he turns back to face the stove.

“You’re worth being spoiled.” he says softly, pouring the contents of the pot into a bowl. “C’mon. We’ll eat on the couch. Cannae believe how cold your kitchen is.”

You trail behind him as the two of you make your way back into the living room, Johnny chuckling at the way the ice evaporated onto the hardwood that earns him a playful punch to the bicep. Which definitely hurts your fist more than it hurts him. 

You’re expecting for you and Johnny to sit side by side, so you can’t hide your yelp of surprise as he instead lays on the couch, taking you down with him and laying the blanket hanging off the back of the couch over you. He wraps his arms around you, holding your back to his chest as he lays the bowl in your laps.

Being in such close proximity to him is definitely something you’re not a stranger to, but it feels different this time. Too perfect, too much like you’re meant to be laid against him.

Too much like a couple.

The clanking of the spoon against the bowl shakes you out of your thoughts, and you can’t help but be confused as you stare down at him lifting the spoon up towards you.

“Really Johnny, I appreciate it but I can feed myself.” you sigh, trying to lean back away from it. 

“Dinnae think you can, love. Your hands are trembling.” They actually were. How did he notice that before you did? “Please, let me do this for you.” 

You can’t argue with that, certainly can’t argue with him. It's comforting as Johnny feeds you, not to mention how much it’s warming you up. Your hands finally stop shaking by the end of it, although they might just start up again when he places the bowl on the coffee table and interlaces your fingers with his.

“You need anything else? Want me tae do anything for you?” He squeezes your hands reassuringly as you lay your head back on his shoulder.

“I’m fine with just being here with you.” you whisper, your eyes searching over his features as if they weren’t already committed to memory. “Missed hearing your voice. Missed you. Sorry. I know I already said that.”

“I’ll never get sick of hearing it.” Johnny laughs lightly, making your breath catch in your throat just from the sound. “You been taking care of yourself while I’ve been gone?”

“Sometimes.” you admit, knowing he’d want to hear the truth. “It’s real hard some days. But I’m trying, promise.”

“That’s all I could ever want from ye.” he replies gently, bringing your hand to his lips to kiss your palm.  “You dinnae have to always feel like you’ll let me down if you’re not doing yer best.  I’ll take ye just the way ye are.”

You can’t do anything but nod at that, any words you could possibly come up with would fail at letting him know just how much you needed to hear that. Needed him.

Johnny and you lay like that for a while, staring at each other with soft eyes as you appreciate the peace the two of you bring each other. You feel the steady rise and fall of his chest as you lay against it before your eyes focus on the rest of his face.

His lips are cracked, the look of them making you wince. If you had it your way Johnny would’ve had them slathered in Vaseline before he ever dared to step outside in the cold but alas he didn’t seem to think that through when he decided that trudging through the snow just to see his best friend was a good idea. 

You begrudgingly slip your hand out of his and reach around the clutter on the coffee table, fumbling around till you grab one of the many lip balms you keep scattered around the house. 

“Your, um, your lips are chapped.” you mutter, uncapping the balm and delicately running it over his lips before doing the same to yours. “Does that feel any better?”

He’s not listening, you realize, as his baby blues are completely transfixed on your mouth as you apply the lip balm. 

“Sharing chapstick now, yeah? Practically just kissed each other.” His words barely register because his eyes are still glued on your lips. You open and close your mouth as your brain short circuits. 

“Think ye missed a spot.” Johnny murmurs, and you naively assume he’s going to take the tube and go over your lips again. You feel your heartbeat pick up as he cups your jaw instead, glancing between your eyes and your lips as he leans his head down slightly. 

“Then you better do something about it, Johnny.” You close your eyes as you silently panic at wherever this newfound confidence came from and move your head up further in response. You don’t know who closes the gap first but it doesn’t matter because suddenly his lips are on yours and it’s perfect.

Your first kiss with Johnny is even better than all the times you dreamed about it. His lips are still chapped, of course, rough skin cutting against the softness of your own, but he makes up for it with the way his lips are practically glued to yours and the way his stubble scratches your skin so gently. It feels so desperate, makes you wonder if the need for it has been building inside of him for as long as it has for you.

It doesn’t take long for the kiss to get messier, rougher, Johnny's teeth nipping at your bottom lip so your lips part instinctively and he’s able to slip his tongue into your mouth. A welcome intrusion for sure, and all you can think about is how good it feels against your own.

Although it hurts both of you, the two of you finally have to part to get some air back into your lungs. This is the second time Johnny has taken your breath away and it’s just as good as that day in the park. 

You look up at him to find his eyes already on you, dazed and slightly dilated with his lips red and swollen and definitely going to need another layer or two of chapstick after this. He’s grinning down at you like he didn’t just send your head spinning.

While this was the second best thing to ever happen to you (the best thing, obviously, was getting to meet Johnny in the first place), that voice that told you you weren’t going to be good enough for him all those years ago comes back full force. You can’t do this, not with him, can’t fall in love with the man who surely wouldn’t take you as his girlfriend.

It’s all too much and you have to turn away before you do something stupid. Even if Johnny is looking at you so adoringly.

“That was sweet, Johnny. Thank you for indulging me.” you mumble, shifting away from him slightly as you lower your head to stare down at your lap.

“Been wanting tae do that for a while.” he sighs softly, looking down at you lovingly before he picks up on your new mood and his gaze shifts to one of concern. “What’s the matter? You didnae like it? I’m real sorry, honest, thought you were okay with it.”

“No, no I did like it. I really did.” Understatement of the year, but he doesn’t need to know that. “I just… I know it’s gonna leave me wanting more. Make me wanna be yours, and you’re not gonna have me.”

The silence was nearly suffocating, and even with you faced away from him you could feel his gaze piercing against you.

“What are ye talkin’ about, dove? Course I’d want to be with you. I love you.” he scoffs, his voice full of annoyance not aimed at you but at the idea that you weren’t the only person he’s ever truly loved.

“Yeah… yeah, I know you do. You tell me it all the time. I love you too.” You shrug, dragging your nails over the outline of your thighs under the blanket.

“No, I dinnae mean it like that.” He sits up against the cushion, tilting your chin up so your eyes can meet. “That was as a friend. I do love you that way, I always will even if you don’t feel this way about me.”

You’re fully at attention now, trying to gauge if this is just another one of Johnny’s jokes. You know realistically he would never be unserious about something like this, wouldn’t ever want to hurt you this way. Perhaps all the kissing cut off his oxygen for too long because there’s no way he’s meaning what he’s saying, right?

“I love you. Love you.”

Suddenly the warmest you’ve ever felt isn’t the December nights where the two of you have split a hot chocolate or the many times he’s lent you his jacket after you insisted you could handle the cold, but instead it’s Johnny’s pretty blue eyes staring into yours as he tells you the only words you’ve ever wanted to hear.

“Oh. Alright.” you finally sputter out, unable to stop yourself from smiling. “How long have you felt this way?” 

“Long time, angel. Long time.” he murmurs almost apologetically. “Didn’t kno’ how to tell you. Wasn’t sure if it was something you wanted.”

“Should’ve told me.” you grumble, dropping your head back onto his shoulder with a huff. “I’m not someone to get nervous about.”

“You are. What if I was too dafty to realize you didn’t see me the same way and then you never wanted tae see me again? Couldnae risk losing my girl.” Johnny replies simply, keeping one hand on your jaw and the other reaching down to hold your hand. 

“Wouldn’t be missing out on much. I’m not exactly a good friend all the time.” you mumble, rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb. “I’m clingy and I’m always needing attention, and I feel like there’s always something wrong with me that you need to deal with. I mean you just came home from a deployment, I should be the one doing stuff for you and it’s not fair that-”

He cuts you off with another kiss, this one even softer than before. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.” he says, his tone genuine. “You agreed to spend time with me even after I made you keel over cause I was too in my head to watch where I was goin’. My mum thinks yer a sweetheart, sisters cannae stop asking me when I’m bringing you home again. You’re nice tae me and you’re nice tae everyone you’ve ever met, even when they dinnae deserve it. I like that you need me, because I need you too.”

It’s hard to know just how to respond to that, but Johnny doesn’t mind. He knows you’ve never been too good with your words, better with actions and you’ve already shown him how much he means to you plenty.

“You’re the best friend I’ve ever had too.” You settle on, glancing down nervously before looking up at him again. “So… you wanna, um, be my boyfriend?” You wince at the lack of smoothness but hey, at least it gets a laugh out of Johnny.

“Yeah, honey, I’ll be yer boyfriend. I’ll be whatever you want.” He leans down to kiss you yet again, and you realize you could definitely get used to that. “Cannae believe you’re finally mine. You’ve got no idea how much you mean tae me.”

“Think I’m starting to understand.” You rub your eyes with your free hand, feeling yourself get drowsy. The way the day has ended with the confession you’ve waited years for must be finally catching up to you.

“You look tired. Get some rest, we can sleep right here.” Johnny shifts you against him, cradling the back of your head to hold you.

“Wouldn’t you rather take this to bed?” You can’t help but feel bad, the couch is barely big enough for one person to lie on it, especially with how much space Johnny takes up naturally. 

“Shouldn’t I take you out to dinner first?”

“MacTavish. Get your mind out of the gutter.” you groan, shaking your head at him if only to cover up the fact that you wouldn’t exactly say no to that. “You know what I meant. My bed’s much more comfortable than a couch. You deserve better.”

“I got the woman of my dreams currently in my arms, wearing my clothes after I fed her and warmed her up. Why would I want to be anywhere but here?” Johnny says with a shrug, moving further onto the couch and pulling the blanket tighter against the two of you.  

For someone who’s only been your boyfriend for all of five minutes, Johnny certainly knows exactly what to say to make you melt. You turn over onto your side, laying your head against his chest as your blinks become slower and your eyes feel heavier.

There’s going to be a lot for you to talk about when you wake up, but you figure he should hear the most important part now.

“I love you too, Johnny.” you whisper, letting your eyes close.  “I always have.”

“I’m glad you do, baby.” He wraps his arms around you as you finally get to experience the feeling of falling asleep in your lover's arms. “Sleep well.”  

Johnny’s kept you safe, he’s keeping you warm. 

And he’ll keep you loved.

need to stop making reader fall asleep in soaps arms but it's too perfect to pass up UGH

my first tag list yippee; @soapsgf

[lazybutsmexy]

Emotional support bird

Ghost x fem!Reader (Canary) x Soap

Warnings: none. Pure fluff.

Word count: 850~

PT. 2

On AO3

A/N: take this as a little apology for all the angst I've been posting for this OT3 🫶♥️

“Simon, you’re not gonna believe what we saw at the market today!” (Y/n) greeted him with a wide smile as he held the door open for her and Johnny as they carried their full tote-bags into his house. Simon took a brief moment to admire the rosy apples of her cheeks, and her ever-present sparkling eyes, before she rushed into the kitchen to leave her bag on the counter. Johnny followed after her with a grin, offering Simon a wink as he headed straight to the fridge to leave the cold produce in it. 

“...What did you see?” Simon inquired, his curiosity peaked as he shut the door and locked it, before following after his partners to help put the groceries away. They had decided to spend their mandatory two-week post-mission break at Simon’s house, but he had been severely understocked of food, hence the decision was made that Johnny and (Y/n) would make a trip to the closest farmer’s market and gather a few things they would need for the next few days.

“An emotional support dog!” she cooed as she handed him the jars that had to be stored away in the upper cabinets, “a beautiful chocolate lab, her coat was very shiny and she looked super cuddly too!” Simon took the small jars in twos, carefully setting them in their correct places as he listened to her, the hint of a smile teasing his lips as he listened to her. “She was with a family, but I think her owner was the smaller kid, he was holding the leash.” She glanced at Johnny, who still hadn’t been able to wipe the grin off his face. He had already listened to her ramble about the dog, and found it impossible to resist her contagious enthusiasm. 

“Those dogs work for different kinds of people,” Simon commented, “wonder why the kid would need one.” 

“I don’t know, didn’t ask,” (Y/n) shrugged, handing him the last jar - a gallon jar of pickled peppers, her latest obsession, “I didn’t want to approach them and make them think that I was questioning them for having one.” 

“...Do we really need a jar this big?” Simon arched an eyebrow as he picked the jar, nevertheless putting it in place with the others and silently thanking his past self for purchasing such sturdy kitchen cabinets.

“Yes, we do,” (Y/n) nodded in all seriousness, before her beaming smile returned as quickly as it had disappeared, “Oh! She even had her cute little vest on!” she cooed, a pout tugging at the center of her lips as she ended with a whine, “She was so~ cute!”

“Aw, Tweety-bird, don’t be jealous,” Johnny reached over and planted a wet smooch on her cheek, instantly tinting her entire face in a flush, “I think you look even cuter when you wear your vest~.”

“‘m not a dog, though,” she whined, and John and Simon shared a knowing look.

“So, you agree you look cute in your vest,” Simon smirked, his finger poking her nose and causing her to erupt in a giggle, gently swatting his hand away from her face.

“Oh, shut it, you know what I mean!”

Yeah, they knew. 

~~~~~~

Two weeks later, as the team prepared to go on yet another mission to the other side of the world, Canary ran her checklist again, making sure everything was packed and ready to go. She was interrupted by two sharp knocks on the door, and she was pleasantly surprised when Ghost appeared at her doorway when she answered her door. 

“Oh, hi! What’s-”

“I have a job for you,” he cut her off, and her brow tightened slightly at his serious tone, “follow me.” He left no room for questions as he swiftly turned around and began marching down the hallway in the direction he had come from. Canary was hot on his heels, wondering what this important job could be, being so close to the start of their new mission. 

They headed straight to the infirmary, and her confusion only grew when she found Soap sitting on a chair, his left sleeve pulled up all the way above his shoulder, and the nurse waiting patiently next to him with a ready syringe. 

“Ah, there she is!” Soap declared brightly, lifting his right arm and holding his hand out to her, “come here, I need you.” 

Canary blinked but didn’t hesitate to hold his hand, still confused about the ordeal, “Um, what do you need me for?”

Soap couldn’t stop his grin from widening even more as he squeezed her hand, “Emotional support, duh,” he glanced at the nurse and tilted his head back to Canary, “this is my emotional support bird.” 

Canary’s face burned as the nurse shook her head in amusement, getting on with giving Soap his booster shot. His eyes were trained on her in a soft gaze, and she debated whether she wanted to kiss him or smack him in the back of his head, leaning towards the latter as she noticed Ghost clearing his throat to disguise a chuckle behind her. 

She still held his hand, though.

[readwritealldayallnight]

When Gaz walks into the bases common room, his goal for making his third cup of tea of the day is diverted when he catches sight of Soap’s expression across the room.

The Scot looks absolutely befuddled, eyes wide and sitting slack-jawed across from his Lieutenant. Gaz walks over to the men, catching the very end of Ghost telling his companion to ‘piss off’.

“Alright?” He asks the lads, raising a brow in question.

“Ye oughta hear the shite LT’s tryin’ to convince me of over here!” Soap is all too eager to inform his friend. Ghost grunts, leaning further back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and rolling his eyes as far back as he can, as if to tell the Sergeant in front of him ‘this is why I don’t tell you anything’.

Because that’s almost exactly what Ghost is thinking at that moment. He’d just entered the common room when he’d spotted the back of an all too familiar head, fiddling and distracted with the microwave.

When he’d walked up behind the younger man and echoed his call sign out in greeting, his mask hid the smug smirk that appeared at the jump Soap gave, uttering a loud “Shit!” in surprise.

Soap went on to complain about how he was apparently attempting to jumpstart his heart, drawling on about how the Lieutenant was always sneaking up on people like this, moving quiet as a Ghost.

“My missus says the same thing.” The masked man had mentioned casually, as if his chest hadn’t automatically puffed out in pride, standing up a little straighter at the mention of his girl.

“She says you’re too quiet? Aye, LT, think a lot o’ couples have complaints of the sorts in bed ya see-”

“Shut it, you prick.” Ghost quickly shut him down, ending that line of thought. “She says I walk too quietly in the flat. Accidentally scaring her all the time, poor thing.”

At that, Soap’s eyebrows had shot sky high, keen to hear more about the big bad Ghost’s life of apparent domestic bliss, turning him into an absolute sap.

Ghost wouldn’t normally volunteer information about his personal life. But he just loves you so much. And now that he’s not only thinking about you because he is all the time, but also talking about you, his mouth didn’t seem to want to stop talking about you.

“She put her foot down with me recently.” He’d added with a deep chuckle.

“She did what?” Soap had asked bewildered.

“She called it ‘putting her foot down’. I walked up behind her when she was doin’ dishes. Poor bird didn’t hear me and dropped somethin’.”

“Oh, no! Simon! That’s my favourite mug!!” You’d cried out, watching your most treasured ceramic shattering on the tile floor of the kitchen, spreading every which way across the room.

“M’sorry lovie. Didn’t mean to scare ya.” He’d sheepishly responded, reaching to turn off the running faucet. He’d grabbed the dish towel and gave it to you to dry your hands, lifted you by the waist and set you on the counter with ease, not wanting you to get hurt with your bare feet. He’d turned, already in search of a broom and dust pan.

“Again. You mean I’m sorry for scaring you again.” You had corrected him, narrowing your eyes. “I can’t take it anymore Simon. You don’t need to be stealthy at home, my love, you can make noise when you walk. In fact I need you to make noise when you walk at home!”

Simon had nodded along, diligently sweeping up every piece of your ruined mug.

“I’ll try harder sweetheart. I promise.” He’d offered, dumping the remnants into the bin before he’d walked up to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist as yours slid around his shoulders.

The very next weekend he’d taken you to a local pottery painting class to make up for the lost mug, as well as you telling him off (because yeah, that was what Simon considered you putting your foot down with him, and he never wanted it to happen again if he could help it).

Ghost finds himself grinning further under his mask at the memory however, of how cute you looked as you tried to raise your voice at him, laying down the law in your shared home.

“And so what’d ya tell her?” Soap asked, curious to know how his Lieutenant had reacted, but more so if the man would even reply or rather would tell him to fuck off.

“I didn’t tell her anythin’.” Simon had uttered. “Did as my missus asked me to do, and that was the end of the story. Well, s’pose I did I tell her I’d look into mug making classes or whatever.”

“…”

“You what?!”