#john soap mactavish fluff

[secretlovezz]

----------♡

One of Johnny's favorite things to do was show off his strength to you.

Whether that means carrying something heavy for you, showing off the way his biceps flex and bulge, or bringing you to work out with him- it takes a lot to convince you to come but it's all worth it to see the way your eyes drift around his body.

The two of you lay on the couch together -watching a movie- wrapped in each other's arms, legs tangled, as your head rest happily against his chest.

The sound of his heartbeat reverberating against your ear distracts you from the movie and has you yearning to sleep. Your eyes open and close while you attempt to focus on the movie that Johnny has been waiting to watch with you. He had been so excited to show it to you but the way his hand rubs lazily against your back, fingers tracing shapes against the cloth of your shirt, only lulls you closer to a peaceful slumber.

Almost as if he could sense your drowsiness Johnny strains his neck to take a peek at you; he smiles at the sight of you against him, your lips parted from the way your cheek is pressed against his firm chest and eyes slowly drifting closed despite your best efforts, God he is so in love with you.

He moves the hand rubbing your back to wrap a finger in a piece of your hair twirling it around and gently tugging on it, "Tired, love?"

All you can manage to do at that moment is whine and dig your face into his chest a little more. The chuckle that leaves him vibrates against you and it makes your lips quirk up the smallest amount.

"To bed then?" You nod and go to lift yourself from him but before you can even think about putting your socked feet against the hardwood floors of the apartment you're lifted into Johnny's arms as he lifts himself from the couch, groaning a little from how his body aches from laying on the cushions too long.

Even though you snake your arms around his neck -as things like this weren't new- your brows furrow with irritation, though it's fake as can be.

One of your hands cups the back of his neck so you can pinch at and play with the short hair of his Mohawk, "I can walk you know, I'm not a baby," You pout a little as you say it but that's fake too.

Johnny just smiles, kissing your temple with a few pecks.

"I know."

[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).

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

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

Word Count: 1,754k

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

John "Soap" MacTavish

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

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

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

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.

[luxcuriousao3]

Call of Duty Masterlist

I write for Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle Gaz Garrick, Captain John Price, and König.

I write the occasional Ghoap fic, but mostly either OC or fem!Reader fics. I don't cross tag or mislabel them. If it's a reader fic, there will be no names (or y/n) used, it will be either exclusively second person or a mix of second and third, it will only be tagged as Character x Reader, and any physical descriptions will be minimal (pretty much just a mentions of Reader having hair that's long enough to pull/pet lol). OC fics, on the other hand, will have a fleshed out, fully described FMC, only be tagged Character x OC, and always be exclusively in third person.

Requests are always open, but I will be honest that I don't answer them in "first come first served" manner. I just answer them when I get inspiration for whatever prompt you've sent in. Please don't let that stop you from sending them--I am always happy to receive asks, I promise that as long as they are nice, they are never annoying! I am also a staunch supporter of SALS and YKINMKATO mindsets, so you never have to fear judgement from me about any of your ideas. If it's not something I am interested in/comfortable writing, I will just not write it, but I'll never shame you for it.

I do ask you avoid sending me requests that include a) breathplay of any type (even "light" breathplay--if it at all restricts the ability to breathe even a little bit, I won't write it), b) degradation, or c) the boys or reader engaging in infidelity, as those triggers for me. The only reason I mention them specifically, and not any other triggers/squicks I have, is because I know it's very prevalent. Again, no judgement if that's your thing. Just keeping myself safe :)

I welcome and encourage feedback of any kind, including constructive criticism, on my full form fics! I also welcome and encourage you to add your own additions to my blurbs. I would be delighted to see them.

Edit: My stance on writing fics inspired by/based off of any of my writing :) (Includes a great GazSoap fic someone wrote due to one of my Gaz blurbs!)

Bold = fic No bold = blurb

Ghost

Dove (A Zombie!Ghost Story) Masterlist

Ghost/General's Daughter!Reader

Fevered Mistakes (Alpha!Ghost/Omega!Reader) | Less Angsty Ending

Mutt (Ghost) | Alternate Expanded Version

A Little Misunderstanding

Bumblebees

Rich Girl!Reader

Virgin!Simon Riley

Soap

Mutt (Soap)

Stalker Soap | Part Two

Price

Urges

Price takes care of you after you drink too much | Part Two | Part Three

Gaz

Modeling

Gaz/Ugly!Reader

Comfort

König

Mutter (König/OFC) | Part Two

König ABO

Mommy's Sweet Boy

Collared

Obsessed

Perv!König

More König Mommy Kink

Oh noooo how embarrassing

Rubber Ducky

A Bloody Feast

Lactation

Pathetic König just wants to be loved

Drunk Sex with König

Not-so-Creepy Landlord König | Part Two | Part Three

Mother's Day

TF 141 (Poly/Reader, Individual/Reader, and Gen)

TF 141 + Eyes

Rut Inducers (TF141)

Undercover

TF 141 + The Best They've Ever Had

This Means War

Stuffed Animals

Ghoap

Ugly

Selfish | Cruel

Mer!Soap/Human!Ghost

[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.

[animesearcher21]

Call of Duty fanfiction!

This is ghost x everyone but it’s mostly a found family/hurt comfort fic

Summery: 👇🏻

Ghost hasn’t slept for a week and his PTSD and damn nightmares are getting to him. Price, Gaz, and Soap help him

———————-

Now I’m only letting this fic be viewable by both members and non members of Ao3 for a few hours. It’s a one shot so If your interested please either make an account on Ao3 or go read it while you can.

I have to lock it to keep people from steeling the data sets.

Enjoy 🤗

https://archiveofourown.org/works/66719536

[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

Join the taglist

[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.

[homicidal-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."

-

{My brain is so silly recently.}

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{@gothgirl6-6-6 @soupbinsoup }

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{More Content}

[partiallysame]

Ghost gets no bitches and he reminds me of whatever that TikTok audio is that’s like “how’d you get her?” And the other person is like “get her? No she grabbed me by the throat and told me I was hers”.

Word count: 800

Warnings: none (ghost being immediately whipped)

So hear me out you’re at the grocery store and while walking down the aisles you see this behemoth of a man. Big muscle sexy, surgical mask covering his face. You want. What to say? How should you approach? Ah yes you need help getting something from the top shelf. Stepping so you’re in his line of sight

“Could you come here?” You ask him and he just gives you a blank stare. Raising your eyebrows clearly waiting for a response he turns around looking for who you could be talking to and who is clearly not listening to you. When he sees no one else in the aisle he slowly points at himself, questioning you. “Yes you.” You smile trying to hold in a laugh. Quickly adding a “please” in the sweetest little voice and he is scurrying over to you.

“Could you please reach that box for me?” Ghost raises his arm up and points to a box when you nod confirming that’s the one you want he hands it to you. “That one too please” he obeys. You have him hand you two more boxes (not needing any of them). Then you try to push your luck a little. “Wait not this one” you hand him a box back and he returns it to the shelf. Before you know it you’ve had this man put all the boxes back just to hand them to you again. A smirk plastered on your face. Not once did the large man question you, not when you were looking up at him with those pretty eyes.

“Ok done with this aisle. Come on.” You start walking and his feet are following you. He hasn’t said a word to you but is following you around the store like a puppy. Down the next aisle you pointed at something (well within your reach) and he handed it you.

“Are you always this obedient?” You watched his eyes go wide but he found himself nodding. He’d probably say yes to anything you ask when you’re looking at him like that, like you want to eat him whole. His answer brought a smile to your face and he swore his knees were gonna buckle. You held out your hand, “phone.” It was a statement not a question and he quickly (fumbling) pulled his phone from his pocket and handed it to you. When you saw it was locked you looked up at him moving the phone ever so slightly towards him. You had meant for him to take the phone and unlock it but instead he mumbled out “0000” a small but dramatic gasp left your lips “oh so he does speak.” You typed in the 4 digits and the phone opened. You looked up at him when the basic passcode worked. “Simple and obedient. Just how I like ‘em” ghost swallowed hard. No one has ever treated him like this. Spoke to him like this. Not even Price. He should be offended? Insulted? Definitely not turned on. Right? (mark him down and scared AND horny). You handed his phone back to him, your number and name resting on his screen. He reached to take the phone from you, but you didn’t let go. Fingers touching you looked up at him “you better call me. I’ll be real sad if you dont.” He swore he was gonna pass out. Before you let go of his phone, hands still touching, heavy steps made their way into your aisle.

“Aye lieutenant there ye are. Been wandering round lookin fer ya.” Soap called down the aisle.

Ghost refused to acknowledge his friend calling for him, keeping eye contact with you. Your smile got bigger as you let go of the phone.

“Lieutenant huh? That mean you know how to give orders too?” He nodded again. “Then I’m definitely going to need you to call me. I’d like to see that.” Your eyes shamelessly raked down his figure. Fuck he needs to hold on to something.

Once you finally walked away, Soap approached quickly asking who you were and when ghosted shrugged his shoulders “I don’t know.” (But he’s gonna that’s for sure)

“She’s a fine looking lass I’m gonna go talk to her.” Ghost’s hand moved fast, grabbing the back of Soap’s neck guiding (pushing) him in the opposite direction of you. He was thanking god you saw him first and not Soap. If you had talked to Soap like that, ghost knew you’d have him walking on a leash (who’s he kidding if you had asked ghost would’ve barked)

Part 2 Part 2.5 part 3

[skyrigel]

Reader who doesn't speak English as their first language and Simon being so in love !!

Over the dinner course, you leaned forward confidently, like you were sharing a secret.

"I think we should buy a baby wheelchair for them."

Price's missus was going to have a baby shower next week.

"Wot?" Simon blinked.

"A baby wheelchair—" You pulled your fist into a punching stance and moved it back and forth, mimicking a tiny car. "Like a baby car… phew phew."

"Oh, that's a stroller." Simon raised a brow, watching your head bobble in a self-absorbed nod.

"Exactly, baby car… stroller."

And it was so cute when you looked up at him whenever you forgot certain words.

"Simon, how do you say in English? The takka-takka-takka—"

"Helicopter," Simon said fondly, earning himself a sweet peck on the lips.

The task force enjoyed it immensely. When Soap said, “Break a leg !” and you raised up a fight at why Simon should break his leg.

Or when Kyle couldn't stop laughing so much with the way you pronounced, “Bitch” to the bird who was hitting up on Simon.

And Simon loved it all, felt love in your eyes through your words, especially when you used his vocabulary—God, it did something to him.

Saying "bugger" when you put too much ketchup, and "bloody freezin’, innit?!" with that corky little smile because you knew how much it wrecked him.

"Bollocks," you would curse, and he’d already be losing his heart and mind, dragging you to the bedroom.

The way you would slip into your native dialect when you were upset, voice rising as you made frustrated noises—Simon would forget the argument entirely, just watching you with that pretty face he’d go to war for.

And something, something about the way you said "I love you" in your native language first, just as softly, and how you called him "my love" in that same way too.

Bloody hell, he’s so in love.

Masterlist

[gloomwitchwrites]

hi!!! i literally started reading your blog and FR YOU HAVE TALENT. Got me giggling and kicking my feet cus of that girl dad!tf141 fics.

I was reading one of the links you put in for prompt ideas and I read that one six words sentence from link five: "I can't risk losing you again." hello?? potential angst to fluff?? I couldn't get it off my head and i was wondering if you could write something from it :>

Thank you so much! That's so sweet of you! I'm so glad you enjoyed reading the Just Like Dad stories. I had a lot of fun writing them.

"I can't risk losing you again" is such an open-ended prompt. There is a lot you can do with that. I hope my humble offering is enough. I certainly went more angst than fluff on this one, but I really do love sad things with twinges of hope thrown in.

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (MDNI): swearing, mild blood, non-graphic mentions of violence, angst, fluff, pregnancy, mentions of pregnancy complications

Word Count: 1,506

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

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Busted door. Shattered glass. Overturned table.

The lights aren’t working and rain enters through the open patio door. You are safe and whole and far from this. But is it enough? Will Simon be able to keep you safe?

What was once doubt is now cold truth.

It’s not your trashed home but the state Simon found you in. It was your heavy-lidded eyes and bruised face. It was the pools of red that Simon didn’t know belonged to you, the dead man facedown in the carpet, or both. It was your smile of relief when you realized it was Simon drawing you into his arms.

Simon knows the man who did this—no. He knows who fucking ordered it.

And when he finds Makarov, he’ll show that fucker just how trigger-hungry he can be. The lead will burst and fuse to his lungs, and Simon will bathe in the aftermath.

All that’s left is your safety. If Simon knew that his career would lead to this, he would have taken steps to protect you years ago. You are always his one bright spot, that candle in the dark that is his life.

With you, he became more than his trauma. More than his guilt. More than his past. With you, he found peace. He found happiness. You are the sugary candy that sticks in the teeth but is too addictive to give up.

Departing is agony. The return is his reward and his longing.

You are everything.

And that is why he let you go.

Why he said, “I can’t risk losing you again.”

He put his head in your lap, his fingers digging into the sides of your thighs and failed to push down the tears.

Laswell will take you far away. She will keep you somewhere safe.

Makarov won’t find you.

And maybe—perhaps in the future—Simon can return to you.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle is a nervous wreck.

The tiny box sits heavy in his pocket, burning an invisible hole. His plan is not the most romantic, but the two of you aren’t the type to go big. It’s all subtle, and Kyle only wants this moment to include the two of you.

This is his last chance.

Kyle’s final opportunity.

In this relationship, Kyle has kept you second. Not on purpose but out of habit. Work is his lifeblood. It drives him, and every successful mission is a point of pride. But in keeping up with that, Kyle left you behind.

His absences lengthened, and over time, he noticed you were pulling away, closing off. But that isn’t your fault. Kyle created the perfect brew for you to drink. These are the consequences of his actions, and he needs to make it right.

There was a time when Kyle nearly did lose you. When he came home and thought you had packed up and left without saying a word. That broke him. Made him realize just how distant he’d become.

Change is difficult.

But Kyle did it. Slowly.

Your smile returned, and when he comes home, your greetings are full of passion.

I can’t risk losing you again.

Kyle takes a deep breath as the deadbolt on the front door disengages. There is a slight tremble in his hands. Kyle is never nervous. Never. But fuck—taking this next step is driving him up the goddamn wall.

He pushes off from the couch, turning just as the front door swings open.

You step inside, face turned away as you go to shut the door. When you finally glance into the room, all the nervousness inside Kyle’s chest evaporates.

Your smile is so sweet, and you don’t hesitate. Dropping your bag, you rush toward him, and Kyle cannot help but meet you halfway.

He’s making the right choice in asking you to stay with him forever.

John Price

“You’re not happy.”

John is happy. He is. But old worries bubble up, seeping into the joy. It’s tainting everything, and that is clear by how your smile starts to fade.

“I am happy,” he says, but his mouth is a hard line. John knows he’s frowning.

You shake your head, one hand resting over your stomach. “Don’t lie, John.”

This is supposed to be a happy moment. He should sweep you up in his arms. He should kiss you until you’re begging for air. But all John can think about are all the doctor appointments he attended with you, and the grimness of what might not happen.

From that came a daughter. John loves her. Adores her. But bringing her into the world nearly killed you. He grappled with that stress while being as present as possible with you. Growing your family has always been a dream, and John doesn’t fault you for a second. There is no family without you.

John grasps the sides of your face and moves into your space. Your own hands close over his, keeping him from retreat.

“I am happy,” he reiterates. “But we both know what it took to bring our daughter into the world.” John shakes his head absently and breathes deep. “Don’t do this for me.”

“John—”

“I can’t risk losing you again.”

This time, your smile returns. There is a hint of sadness lingering behind it, as if you too are reflecting on all that happened.

“Everything will be fine.” You release his hand and gently cup his cheek.

John kisses your forehead, his thumb absently tracing your jaw. “Are you sure?”

The decision is ultimately yours, and John will respect whatever you decide.

“I’m sure.”

“Okay,” he nods.

John pulls you in, lips finding yours. When you melt into him, accepting all that he’s giving, a wave of peace settles over him.

This is right.

And whatever happens, the two of you will face it together.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny drips water all over the floor. He is soaked through. Shivering. But he could give a fuck.

“Where is she?”

“Soap—”

“Where the fuck is she, Price?”

Captain Price sighs heavily and crosses his arms. “She needs rest.”

Johnny swallows down his retort. He’s not upset with Price, and shit like this happens all the time, but he needs to know if you’re okay.

You took a fucking bad fall, and Johnny couldn’t stop to run after you. The mission comes first, and it wasn’t his job. Other people stepped in and whisked you away. But from the height you plummeted from, Johnny feared the worst.

Still does to an extent.

If you were dead, Price wouldn’t hide that from him. But he might hide how bad you’re injured as a way to protect him. Price has always been fatherly in that regard. Right now, it’s driving Johnny fucking nuts.

“Captain. Please,” Johnny clenches his fists and then releases them. “Let me see her.”

Price’s frown smooths a bit and the middle of his brow wrinkles with concern. “For a few minutes. All I can spare.”

Johnny has to keep from rushing to the hospital room doorway when the words leave Price’s mouth. He has Johnny walk with him to your door. Thunder rumbles in the distance and rain steadily hits the large window at the far end of the hospital room.

Just as Johnny takes a step inside, Price’s hand is on his shoulder.

“She’ll make it,” is all he says before he shuts the door.

Johnny lingers right inside. All the lights are off except a small lamp in the corner. Your eyes are closed, and your face is peaceful. There is bruising. A few bandages. The machines next to the bed beep softly.

He was so eager—so determined to get to you. Now, Johnny deflates.

On quiet feet, he grabs a chair and brings it over to your bedside. You don’t stir. Simply sleep. Johnny eases down into the chair and leans forward, his forearms crossed as he rests them on the side of the hospital bed.

Still, you don’t move. And Johnny doesn’t dare wake you.

Rest is important, and all he wants is for you to recover.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “That I didn’t come sooner.” The rain picks up and Johnny smooths back his wet hair. “But I can’t keep doing this. Every time you’re hurt I—” He sighs heavily and rests his forehead on his crossed arms.

“I can’t risk losing you again,” he murmurs into the bedding.

It’s become too much. You’re not supposed to fuck your coworkers and you shouldn’t fall in love with them either. But Johnny did both. With you. And he cannot take that back.

He’d give anything if you’d set this all aside.

Your fingers brushing against his scalp startle him. Johnny lifts his head, only to find you watching him. There is a soft smile on your lips, and his instinct is to grasp your hand and bring it to his lips, kissing each knuckle and then your palm.

The moment your mouth opens to speak, there is knock at the door. Johnny frowns and looks up, finding Price in the doorway.

“Time’s up.”

[luxcuriousao3]

Who in Task Force 141 is most likely to sleep with a stuffed animal? Based on this post.

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Price: has no desire to sleep with a stuffed animal. only technically sleeps with one bc his missus does and he sleeps with her

Soap: wants to sleep with a stuffed animal, and does. is not ashamed.

Gaz: used to sleep with a stuffed animal that an ex gf gave him until they broke up. hid it whenever people came over, then regifted it to his niece after he got dumped.

Ghost: wants to sleep with a stuffed animal. has way too many complexes about masculinity and self worth to allow himself to sleep with a stuffed animal. when he and johnny share a bed, he always ends up stealing the stuffie in his sleep. refuses to admit to it despite the existence of photographic evidence.

[abusivegymrat]

Embarrassing things Ghost has gotten hard for before;

Warning(?): sometimes it’s okay to write about being the mc and the center of attention🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️😖😖 if i write it while cringing u will read it while cringing period. We love things that r hard to read.

1. You were in a briefing where you weren’t allowed phones, and when the other lieutenant on duty turned at you, you immediately took your phone and buried it between those thick delicious thighs. Bury his head, please.

2. When you dominated him in training, wrestled your way out from under him and kicked him face first onto the floor, stepping on his back. It felt like a foot job, tbh.

3. When you manhandled someone else. See, all the younger recruits are like siblings to you, especially women. You once saw one of them crying because she was “too heavy” for her man so you just picked her up and threw her over your shoulder. He felt saliva building up in his mouth when he saw the muscles in your arms ripple.

4. Whenever you get tasked to do a debrief, because he could watch you talk all day. And when he stares at you for too long, his mind wanders off into dangerous territory. Can’t help it.

5. Apparently fireman carried him away from fire when he was unconscious, Soap won’t shut his bitch ass up about it.

Meh sorry

[brokenbough]

"No- no, Simon!" You whimper, squirming away from his hands, your own clawing at the floor.

"Cmon, you can take it." He grumbles, his voice low and command clear.

"Please- oh fuck. Simon, Simon, Simon." You recite like a prayer, squirming again as he adds pressure. You whimper and moan, fighting-- anything to get him to stop.

"Stop squirming, you need it. Take it." He commands roughly again, pinning you firmer into the wooden floorboards.

"Alright, what the fuck are you guys doing?" Soap and Gaz burst in through the door, looking down at the two of you.

There you are on your stomach, pinned under Simon, his hands on your back, his front against your butt. But... clothed.

"What type of freak shit are yall doing?" Gaz asks, watching you squirm under Simon again. He doesn't let you move, pressing down on your lower back once more, growling something quietly at you.

You cry out, whimpering again and clinging to nothing. "Simon, Simon please!" You whine again.

"Take it Doll. Take it." He says, rubbing that same spot.

You groan loudly, starting to fight him again.

"Alright dude, what the hell!" Soap questions, pushing Simon off of you.

You crawl away quickly, standing with a groan.

"What?" Simon grumbles out, pushing Soap back a bit, watching Kyle hug you tightly.

"You can't just pin down girls ya like and- and do whatever the hell that was!" Soap growls out.

Simon tilts his head, looking to you and back to Soap. "What the fuck are you on MacTavish?" Simon asks again, pushing past the sergeant to you.

"You- whatever you were doing to her." Soap continues, getting between you two again.

"Move." He says to his sergeant harshly, leaving no room for argument. But Soap doesn't, standing his ground and protecting you from his perverted lieutenant.

"I'm not gonna ask again." Simon says, glowering down at Soap. Kyle is behind both of them, you behind him as they stand bodyguard.

Finally free from Simon's hands, you quickly dart out of the door, hearing the growl of Simon behind you.

"Fuck off Lt.!" You yell back, turning corners and jumping over furniture and people as Simon is stuck behind his two sergeants. You get as far away as you can.

--

"Back. away." You demand, ready to run again as Soap and Gaz corner you.

"Nah ah little lady." Gaz says, a lazy smile on his face.

--

"You guys fucking suck!" You yell, squirming in Soap's hold, Gaz walking behind him for backup in case you tried to run again.

They quickly deliver you back to your lieutenant, dropping you at his very feet.

"Don't run bunny, won't and never will end well for you." Simon says, kneeling next to you. "On your stomach." He growls.

You huff, turning over and glaring at the sergeants who brought you here. "Dead to me. All of you." You growl before it fades into a soft moan of pleasure and pain as Simon settles back onto your butt, rubbing from your lower back and up.

"There ya go." He croons, adding more pressure.

"When I--fuck, fuck."

"Right there?" He teases.

"No, fuck you. And when I get the chance, I'm gonna break every single one of your stupid little fing-- FUCK!" You grip nothing again, clawing for one of the sergeants-- something, anything.

"Soap. You had the most to say, hold her hand." Simon commands, rubbing circles now.

Soap is hesitant, and even more so at your sadistic smile as he slowly moves closer. You quickly latch onto him when he gets close enough, pulling him down with you.

Soap sits there with you, grunting in pain every time your nails dig into his pale skin.

Simon continues to massage you, hitting all the right parts that scream in agony under his hands. Your body begs for more, but your mouth knows better than to give Ghost a big head.

"Gonna kill you Simon." You say before he makes you whine and whimper as if it's some joke.

"Yeah?" He asks.

"Nice-- ngh-- and slow." You relay.

"Like this?" He asks, a slow, long drag of his knuckles down your back.

You don't answer, can't, as you fall into a fit of more moans. You squeeze Soap, your salvation between the pain and pleasure.

"Jesus lass, keep gripping me like that, you're gonna leave a mark." Soap grumbles, hissing when you break skin. Again.

"Shut the fuck up!" You growl, whining again almost to the point of tears.

"Gonna do your shoulders after." Simon says as if it's a threat. And it is.

"Please no, please, Simon. Simon, Simon, please, hear me out."

"Mmm..." He mulls, looking down at your turned head. You, no longer holding onto Soap for dear life.

"Tomorow. Please, just do it tomorrow." You plead, eyes misty with unshed tears of pain-- pleasure?

"That's the thing Doll, I don't really feel like chasing tomorrow. I don't feel like chasing at all."

"I'll- I'll come to you. Please. Just tommorow."

"Why should I believe you when you just tried to run 40 minutes ago?"

"Cmon Lt., you know I'm not a liar."

"No, but you're a runner." He counters.

"F-fine. End of day. I'll come to you after dinner."

"I don't know if that works for me Doll."

"Please." You beg again.

--

"Dead to me. All of you." You say at dinner, glaring at Simon, Johnny, and Kyle.

"What is she talking about?" Price asks, slightly amused.

"She won't go to medical and I'm tired of hearing her complain about being sore." Ghost says nonchalantly.

"She doesn't like Lt's massages." Soap chimes in. "Got a couple of scars from 'er." He continues, showing Price his arm. The thin crescents now just a slight pink from where you dug your nails into him.

"Wouldn't have happened if you didn't force me to go to him." You snap back.

"Yeah, yeah."

"What's this about you not going to medical?" Of course that's the part he focuses on.

"Well, I--"

"It's handled Cap'n. Don't gotta worry about 'er." Ghost finally chimes in, staring directly at you.

You flick him your finger before going back to your food. You had to mentally prepare for his heavy, deft... strong... veiny hands to massage out the kinks in your shoulder.

Oh fuck.

--

"Sit." Simon says, pointing to his office chair.

"We can't do tomorrow?" You ask weakly, already moving to the chair.

"No. We're doing legs tomorrow."

"What--"

"Shh." He says, his heavy hands on your shoulders.

You sighed, moaning before he even got to rubbing.

"Eager?" He teases.

"N-- oh~" you moan, leaning back into his chair.

"There ya go. Relax." He encourages kindly, genuinely happy to help. He really was tired of you complaining about being sore and didn't need you stiff on a mission. He'd work through all your... kinks if it meant a better mission... and maybe listening to you moan his name, begging for a release he wouldn't give.

Maybe.

Bold of you to assume he does the small things out of the goodness of his heart without any benefit for himself.

Naive even.

------------

If you can't tell, I'm in pain. My left shoulder specifically

[phantasm-ae]

cw: fluff, cowgirl afab reader x ghost, grumpy x sunshine, clumsy reader

HEADCANON: the team meets Ghost’s little bird

PAIRING: Simon Riley x reader

It all started when Soap, half-joking -- not really -- asked over a pint of that terrible guinness that one of the recruits mentioned that he voiced out a lingering thought out loud,

"So, Ghost. Ye ever gonna introduce us to yer missus? Or is she just some hallucination ye made up tae wind us up aye?"

Ghost, who had never confirmed nor denied anything about his personal life, simply shrugged. "Pub. Friday. Seven."

Soap thought he was joking.

At exactly Friday, seven-fucking-pm though. Soap. Soap realized he was wrong.

They met at a grimy pub near base. Price was wary. Gaz looked openly curious. Soap just looked excited, because how normal could Ghost’s wife possibly be? Some goth lady with a death glare? A sniper with a scar over her eye? A shadow in human form?

None of the above.

What actually walked in was—

A tiny woman in a beat-up leather jacket, dusty denim jeans, a battered cowboy hat tilted low over her messy braid. Coupled with a pair of cracked leather boots that clomped across the floor like she owned the place.

Holy shit

She looked like she could ride a bull, shoot a rifle, and kiss you breathless — not necessarily in that order.

She waved frantically the moment she spotted them though — knocking over a chair and nearly tripping over her own boots as she did.

"HEY, SI" she yelled across the entire bar.

Ghost — stoic, terrifying, 6'4" Ghost — immediately straightened in his seat like a teenager seeing his crush. He actually moved. Stood up. Went to meet her halfway like she was the only thing that existed.

Soap’s jaw was physically on the table.

This tiny woman. Small. Wiry. Sun-kissed and with the greatest pair of tits Soap has ever seen immediately launched herself into Ghost’s arms like a missile. He caught her easily -- of course -- one hand on her lower back, the other ruffling her tousled brown hair with ridiculous tenderness.

Leaning down to let her smack a kiss right onto the cloth of his mask like she couldn’t give a single shit about what people thought.

She yanked the brim of his hat down over his eyes — wait! when had he gotten a hat?? — and laughed that big, reckless, wild West laugh that turned every head in the pub.

The team stared in horror and awe.

"This can’t be real," Gaz muttered. "I’m dreaming. I died in Syria."

"She's so small," Soap whispered back, scandalized. "And she’s—she’s—hot??"

They made it back to the table, Ghost’s hand resting casually on her hip like a leash.

When they made it back to the table, she shoved Ghost into a chair, plopped herself onto his lap without ceremony, and grinned at the rest of them.

"Howdy, boys," she said, tipping her hat.

Soap almost cried.

She was absolute chaos. Stole the darts right out of the wall and challenged Soap to a game ("loser buys shots, city boy" "'m from Scotland, lass" "Cattle country ain't like sheep country, sugar" "we have cows. They moo too").

Gaz: "You're so fucking stupid mate"

Soap: "Shut it aye?"

Flirted shamelessly with Ghost across the table — calling him "sugar," "cowboy," and "my big strong man" with zero shame in her Southern-twanged voice. Told Price he looked like a "sheriff with a broken heart."

Somehow wrangled Ghost into a pool match where she used him as her pool cue guide — pressed up against him, his huge hands guiding hers, while she winked at the others over her shoulder.

Ghost never smiled. Never joked. Never talked much. But with her? He was... different.

Softer. More human. Maybe even a little helpless, the poor bastard.

Price, to his credit, kept a straight face. Barely.

Soap, meanwhile -- after losing to her on those stupid darts and took on the challenge of guzzling down the said shots -- was vibrating with suppressed laughter.

She was chaos. Pure, distilled chaos — loud, funny, mean, fun, but also wildly affectionate. She stole a chip off Gaz and a stranger's plate without asking. Shooed off two creeps with a death glare who wouldn’t stop pestering the girls at the counter. Challenged the bouncer -- a hulking and massive bloke -- to arm wrestle and actually fucking won! Spent half an hour helping to take pictures of an old couple on a vacation to send to their grandkids. And started a chant for Price to shotgun a beer (he declined, though grimly but... endeared).

And through all of it, Ghost just... watched her. Silent. Steady. The same way he’d scan a perimeter — except more devoted. Soap swearing that he could even see him smile behind the mask.

At one point, she tugged on his sleeve and whispered something in his ear that made him let out a genuine, low chuckle. An actual laugh. Gaz's drink came out of his nose at that and Soap almost passed out from the shock.

By the end of the night, they were all completely obsessed with her.

(And slightly terrified. She challenged another guy twice her size to a pull-up contest and won.)

As they stumbled out of the pub, she looped an arm around Ghost’s waist and shouted, "THIS IS MY HUSBAND! HE’S BIGGER THAN YOUR HUSBAND!" at absolutely no one.

Ghost didn’t even blink. Just tugged her closer and murmured, "Alright, birdie. Inside voice yeah?."

"YOU LOVE ME BABY," she hollered back.

"Yeah," he said simply, not caring who heard. "I do."

And if anyone at the pub dared to stare — well, nobody wanted to make eye contact with a man wearing a skull mask who looked like he could bench-press a car and the woman who looked like she could drive said car through you and still smile while doing it.

Soap later: "Lass is unhinged aye?." Gaz: "You’re just mad she drank you under the table, mate." Price: "I like her. She’s good for him." Soap: "Naw, like... she’s pure mental. He’s just as daft. It’s a match made in hell, I’m tellin' ye.

Ghost, hearing them gossip: (Just shrugs.) "I like her loud. Makes it easier to find her."

masterlist

[thisnoah]

Smooching my cat