#johnny mactavish x wife!reader

[barrackspredator]

Boyfriend!Soap who just loves his girlfriend. Carries a photo of you with him in his wallet. Also, has a photo of you in a heart frame on his office desk on base.

“Yeah, this is my wife 😼”

Some of his coworkers on base genuinely believe you two are married. No ring, no ceremony, but spiritually Soap is devoted to his missus MacTavish.

Bonus: a rookie was crying over his girlfriend breaking up with him, so in turn Soap did what he does

“Awww man, that’s tuff… my wifey would never!”

[princessdimondheart]

Tells | Ghost x Secret Wife! Reader

Pairing: Ghost x f! Reader

Warnings: blood, wounds, pregnancy, 🥺

Edited: No

A/N: I really wanted to do my own take on this idea. Hope you like it.

Masterlist

Character banner ©️ Me

Johnny wasn’t sure how he hadn’t realized it before, after being introduced to his Lieutenant’s wife. There were small, subtle tells that gave away Ghost having a significant other, but he never put the pieces together. Honestly, Johnny was a little upset because he’s in the SAS- he should be able to see things like this. 

The first time he noticed something was strange with Simon was when they were gathering their gear right before going to another mission. They were placing the last of their equipment into their bags. Simon had not put his black skeleton gloves on yet so his wrists were exposed. Johnny didn’t notice anything different until Simon rolled up his sleeves like usual. And there it was. 

A hair tie. 

He didn’t think much about it. Maybe he found it laying around the base. No. That would be weird and there weren’t that many women frequenting the same places as Simon anyways. 

Could he be using it to snap at his wrist when or if he got anxious? Nah.. Ghost stays focused on missions. Johnny doubted Ghost would let anxiety pull a fast one on him in the field. 

Oh! Simon is definitely growing his hair out. Johnny wondered if his balaclava was comfortable with long hair. So he pointed it out. 

“Growing your hair out L.t.?” His lips curled into a little smirk. 

Simon looked up from the full magazine in his hands. Only his eyes gave away his confusion. “No? Why?”

“Your hair tie.” Johnny nodded to his right wrist. “Never took ya for a purple-wearin’ kind of guy, sir.”

Ghost blinked at his Sergeant and then glanced to his aforementioned wrist. Sure enough a bold purple hair tie was bound to his lower arm. Simon was sure he had removed it before leaving home earlier that day. 

“Oh… must have forgot.” Simon spoke absentmindedly. He was remembering his wife. He had gotten home before her and when she came he helped her remove her ponytail, completely forgetting about the hair tie once their kisses got the better of them. 

Simon didn’t say anything else, so Johnny shrugged it off and continued filling his bag with ammunition. Not even two minutes after he forgot what they were talking about when Captain Price called them over. 

~~~~~

The next time something was different with Ghost, Johnny wasn’t even the one who noticed it first. It was Gaz who pointed it out. 

After a long and hard mission, Task Force 141 had finally arrived at base. The team desperately needed showers, so right after hoping off the helicopter everyone went straight to their barracks. 

After their most loved showers everyone went to the mess hall for some real food and not the field MREs they had been eating for the past few weeks. There Kyle had already gotten his portion of food and was digging in. Soap and Price were sitting across from him too, but no Ghost in sight. Simon came in almost halfway through their dinner and sat next to the young Sergeant. The food on his tray was not being eaten. 

That’s when Kyle smelled it. A fruity smell was wafting from the freshly showered SAS powerhouse next to him. Ghost smelled of fresh cut pomegranates and some other fruit notes. It took him by surprise. Kyle would have normally pictured Ghost as a strict standard-issue soap kinda user, not a fruity one. 

“Did they change the regular soaps, sir?” Gaz took the risk. 

Johnny had finished chewing and looked up at his L.t. and Kyle with a questioning look. Then he leaned forward on the table to take a sniff. 

“Is that pomegranate, L.t.?” Johnny chuckled. He’d take any chance to tease his superior. 

Ghost gave them a subtle glare. He had hoped no one would have noticed his mistake. He’d been in a hurry to leave home and well…

“I grabbed the wrong bottle.” He deadpanned then turned to Price, who was shaking his head in disapproval at the two, to ask about any new leads. Clearly, the conversation was over. 

~~~~~

The third time was when their mission went FUBAR. Ghost and Soap had gotten separated from Captain Price and Gaz when their enemies tried to ambush them. In the chaos Soap was shot in the leg, but with Ghost’s help, he was able to escape and hold out until it was safe enough for them to head to the rendezvous point for extraction. 

Now that they were relatively safe, Ghost was searching his packs for supplies to help Johnny with. Johnny wasn’t particularly paying too much attention to what he was doing since he was bleeding out and moaning in pain, but he definitely noticed when Ghost used a tampon to plug the gunshot wound in his thigh. 

��Fuckin’ hells, Ghost! Where’da fuck yous get a bloody tampon from!?”

“It’s an essential tool for survival.” He honestly had no idea how that slipped into his med pouch. Johnny guessed it was so if Ghost had said it. 

~~~~~

Next time they were somewhere in Africa, most definitely melting with the heat. A great bonding experience for the two of them. Their only relief was a slow moving breeze. Soap and Ghost were staking out one of a known terrorist cell’s many compounds. All was quiet for now. 

“Johnny?” Ghost didn’t move from his position, eyes dead on his scope. 

Johnny looked over. “Yeah, L.t.?”

“Once we’re done here, I’m taking you somewhere important. Keep your schedule clear.” Simon’s deep voice sounded out softly. 

“Oh… alright.” He didn’t know what to say. “Okay. Definitely, Simon.” 

He looked back towards the compound. Simon had glanced at that moment to see his little smile. His eyes crinkled. 

~~~~~

True to his word, after their stakeout mission was completed, Simon hauled Johnny into his car and began to drive them to who knows where. All Johnny knew was that the drive took several hours from their base in London to wherever they were in the countryside. 

They were nearly at their destination when Simon pulled them into a long driveway and pressed a button controller on his shade that opened the metal gates. Going through, the road was surrounded by open pastures on both sides. When Johnny looked around more closely he noticed a few horses, and, was that a cow? They were grazing on the lush grass. Was his L.t. taking him to a farm?

“Where are we, sir?” He had to ask. 

“You’ll see, Johnny.” Simon had slowed down so as to not spook any of the animals grazing. 

Two minutes later and the car pulled up to a nice two-story cottage home. It was made from stone and appeared to be like a fairy tale type of house. Johnny quite liked the look of it. He noticed that the lights were on. 

Simon opened the locked door, then took off his skull balaclava. It was clear that he was comfortable enough to forego it. “I called ahead, so dinner should be ready soon.”

Dinner? Who’s made them dinner? Johnny didn’t question him and just nodded. Simon stepped inside, none of the wooden boards squeaked when he walked in them unlike when Johnny stepped on them. His steps alerted the person in the kitchen. A delicious smell was coming out in soft waves. The person poked their head out to see who was there. They weren’t worried because they knew that only Simon had the extra key. 

“I’m home.” Johnny noticed a softness in his voice that he hadn’t heard before. Simon’s large frame was blocking his view of the person. A dog suddenly burst from the kitchen barking at Simon before realizing who he was. It sat down when he started to pet him, his butt wiggling with the fast beat of his tail. Cute. Then the dog, a German shepherd, turned to him and started sniffing him with caution. Johnny let him sniff his hand and after a bit he licked his hand and wagged his tail. Approved. 

“Welcome home, Simon!” The person’s voice was distinctly feminine. Johnny had moved closer to Simon and the kitchen, so when the woman fully came into view he saw her right away. 

She went in for a hug and that’s when Johnny noticed a small, yet significant distance between the two. She was pregnant and her baby belly was making it a little harder to hug her. But that didn’t stop Simon from embracing her as tightly as he could. When her hand came up to rest against Simon’s shoulder, Johnny noticed again the large diamond on her ring finger. 

“L.t.?” The two lovers separated to look at him. 

“Johnny, come meet my wife.” Simon gave him a knowing nod which Johnny instantly returned. 

He almost couldn’t believe it. His L.t. had brought him home to see his little family. Johnny almost choked up upon realizing the significance of Simon trusting him with this information. Right then and there, Johnny gave Simon a mental promise to help keep his family safe, no matter what.

Bonus: 

“Oh! The baby is kicking! Want to feel ‘em, Johnny?” Simon’s wife asked. 

“Oh, sure! If that’s alright with you?” She took his larger hand in answer and placed it near the top of her baby bump. A few kicks hit his hand. They were rather strong kicks too. Definitely a football star, or another SAS kid, in the making. 

“Woah!” Johnny exclaimed. Then, turning to his L.t. who was watching them interact, his mouth turned into a wide grin. “Does that make me their uncle, Simon?”

“Don’t push it, MacTavish.” His wife giggled. 

Masterlist

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

It was Captain’s turn to host poker night, and that meant everyone got to be in his nice house out in the suburbs. His Missus normally made them some nice snacks. She'd chat with them for a bit, but then after, she would leave the four of them to their own devices. Kyle thought she was nice. When he met her, she was indeed wearing blonde hair but went with the popular Créme Brulé color. She certainly was the type his Captain would attract, classy, sophisticated, a little crazy but not much, and she ran a tight ship.

She was hanging around, though, clearly waiting for someone. No bother, it wasn't any of Kyle's business. The front door opened up, to the sound of another woman squealing. There's fast talking and laughing, and Kyle is a little confused because traditionally, poker night has always been guy's night. Still no worries, as Price's Missus was saying that the bar was set up downstairs.

"Where's your little crash out?" The Missus say as her and her friend walk by.

The friend is sporting a deep body wave cherry Coca-Cola hairstyle that goes down right to her waist. She's dressed in all black, pretty gold hoops in her ears and other gold chains and belts wrapped around her waist. "Oh, he's coming. He's finishing up a cigarette and he will be right in."

Kyle looks over at Soap "Did Cap say he was inviting other people?"

Soap shrugged his shoulders, "Ah donnae ken so?" He was watching the woman closely, "But she's bonnie."

The front door opens up, and Kyle is expecting this mystery man to waltz in but is surprised to see Simon. Okay, still no bother, except why is Simon wearing black air force ones? Was he even aware of that brand? And why is he wearing a Nike tech trench? Kyle is feeling a strange sense of déja vú.

"Och! Si nice coat! It's fittin' fo' ye!" Soap greets.

Simon only grunts as he puts away his coat. The cherry-coke woman reentered the living area carrying two wine glasses and her eyes land on Simon.

"Sweetie, come get me when you guys are done. Can't say I won't be singing My neck and my back in two hours if i am, we gotta leave right away. Love you!" And she disappeared down the steps with Price's girlfriend. Simon only nods his head in acquiescence, and there's a slight blush on his ears from what she said.

Soap has a wide grin on his face, and by this time, Price is entering the room with the cards. Kyle feels like he is on the office or some bad parody...because what?

"How'd ye meet her, Si?" Soap is vibrating with energy.

"I met her through Price's girl...it was a blind date." Simon says.

Soap thinks he's funny, "Do I get a pretty hen next?"

Kyle places his head in his hands and leans over the table. "I can't believe there's two of you now."

@c-nstantine I saw what you wrote and ran with it. Lol

[porkcutletbowl44]

(if things ended differently in the campaign)

After Johnny's brain surgery he gets to go home for awhile with his amazing wife, pampered like he's never had before, homemade food when he wants, a hand to hold at the neurologist and other brain expert appointments.

Perfect life, having his Bonnie lass help him remember basic things like the date and time 10 minutes ago, remembering basic recipes, yours and his birthday, anniversaries, filling the gaps in his memories by whipping out the old photo album (and helping him tear his shit apart in the house to find his naughty Polaroids of you because he never told you the hiding spot for them before he lost most of his memories)

And then the psychologist has to ruin his gushing by asking if this "Bonnie"/"Hen" character in his head is another personality or a voice in his head that happens often.

[moongreenlight]

Need more secret wife please 😭😭🙏🙏🙏

WIP Wednesday? WIP Wednesday.

Secret Wife p3 SMALL UPDATE that I have been hoarding like a dragon with treasure lol (I am riddled with guilt)

It takes Johnny upwards of two hours sat alone in his car in silence to fully process what just happened. He’d tried to ask a thousand follow up questions in some rapid-fire babble, but he was met with a wall of stony silence. Goes on stupidly for well over two minutes until Ghost knocks him with a cupped palm on his temple. Little rougher than could be considered friendly, but nowhere near harmful. Served to bring him back to earth.

“Take a breath, sergeant.”

The low rumble of Simon’s voice barely rises over the dull roar of the cars around them.

“Fuck off.”

Johnny looks less gobsmacked than he feels.

“Mind your manners.”

A bite. He must’ve quit smoking around you for the time being. Made him more waspish than usual.

“Cannae believe you, bastard. Kept a secret tha’ big from us all this time?”

Simon took a labored breath in. A sigh like the stiffness of his muscles was creating a vice around his lungs. He threw a sideways glance back toward your car a few aisles over. Like he was making sure you were still there and situated. Pursed his lips and rubbed the bridge of his nose while saying something about how Soap was to under no circumstance take you up on the dinner offer. Turned on his heel and made his way back over to you without a goodbye.

Johnny had half a mind to disobey out of sheer bull-headedness but decided against it just before he sent you a message on his last day of leave. Deleted the text he’d drafted and resigned to trying to press Simon more about things when they got back on base.

He tried, persistent bugger that he is, to pester his L.T. to give up more information. When the two of you’d gotten married. Why he hadn’t said anything. Why wasn’t he invited to the wedding? Was there a wedding? Does anyone else know? All fruitless. Snubbed each time.

He would have been offended if he hadn’t come to know Ghost so well over the years. He’s cagey at his warmest, so it’s no real surprise that he’s kept this under lock and key. The real shock came from the understanding that it happened at all in the first place. Johnny had a hard time wrapping his mind around someone as kind and welcoming as you somehow getting tangled with someone as stoic and brutish as Ghost. He tried to conjure up infinitely many situations where the two of you met and the coupling made sense, but he never stumbled on one that felt right.

Your went into labor over a month early. Just a few weeks after the boys had returned to base. Four hours before the boys were due to board a flight that would deploy them for three weeks. It was the only time Simon had ever been late to call. Johnny was sent to go track him down by an extraordinarily eggy Price.

He found him ready to leave, rifle slung over his back like a soldier. Pacing the hall outside your room in the bay. Down a short corridor in the back that usually hosted surgeries. He was whale-eyed and hostile toward the sound of Johnny’s boots echoing across the brick. It was jarring to see him so agitated. His hulking frame tangibly vibrating through the pounds of gear he was sporting. He truly considered just walking away. Spinning some tale about desertion because that seemed entirely less daunting than trying to corner an animal like Ghost.

Johnny eventually got him to leave. It was a non-option at this point, just a matter of getting the big bastard into the chopper. Tugging him away was like leashing a feral dog. He was fanatical, tugging at the lead and choking himself the entire way across the landing pad. Didn’t stop snarling until he was pushed down into his seat by Price and made to shut up.

[oceantornadoo]

my masterlist💖

mdni! my ao3

EVERYTHING IS FICTION don’t take it seriously 😙

welcome to the feral things that come from my brain :) feel free to request a trope! i use #tornadothoughts for all my drabbles and fics and #tornado speaks🙊 for random thoughts. do not repost my work as your own. all fics are f!reader unless specified

COD FICS:

finished series: the wrong john

141 character masterlists

two lieutenants series (simon riley x f!reader)

mad max: the 141 au (john price x f!reader)

outlaw series (simon riley x f!reader)

[lethalchiralium]

“Out out out out out- Come here, you-“

His dog took off from the front porch, Soap snapping angrily at him for snatching a some chicken bones from the basket Simon just brought in. He watched his Collie prance along the yard, jaw settled on the biggest bone he found.

“The wife’s not gonna like that.” Simon muttered as he joined his husband on the porch, holding their daughter with one hand - letting her face the farm with a cute face of delight. She cooed, little hands opening and closing as she watched her dog go nuts in the grass.

Soap frowned, knowing if he tried to retrieve the bone he’d lose a hand, but if he didn’t retrieve the bone he’d lose his head. He wasn’t keen on their wife being angry at him, she had a nice day training her horses and counting the sheep; no need to piss her off. “She’s got bone broth to make.”

“She does.” Simon confirmed, hiking the little baby up on his chest to keep her close to his face. “Babe’s getting hungry.”

“Looks it too.” Soap glanced to his side, spying his daughter beginning to chew on his husband’s finger. “Gotta get that damn bone.”

He chuckled a little. “Shadow!” The black Collie instantly turned his head towards Simon, who pulled his hand from his daughter’s mouth to point to his foot. “Here.”

Soap rolled his eyes, turning and grabbing his baby as the mutt ran and laid down at Simon’s feet. He kissed his daughter’s blonde hair, keeping her dress nice and flat as he moved back into the cabin. The fire was low in the fireplace, Simon’s knives left abandoned on the table beside the now out of reach basket of chicken bones. He’s got an awake baby in his hands, he knows she’s getting hungry by her little grunts and coos that she is going to be pissed soon. Simon walked in and to the basket, tossing the wiped clean bone into it before placing it higher on a bookshelf.

“Miss Claire,” Soap cooed to his baby, her little face looked up to him with a toothless grin. “Mum’ll be home soon. Ye'r nae gonnae starve.”

“You still goin’ with Laswell to town tomorrow?” Simon commented, hand gently patting Shadow before he opened a drawer, grabbing the silverware he had made years ago. “We need more grain for the-“

“Horses, I know.” He sighed, looking over to the blond as he set the table for three. Soap settled in his chair, letting his baby gnaw on his finger. “Ya sure ya dinnae wanna come?”

Simon chuckled a little. “Got Claire to watch. Mum’s gonna want to bathe the babe and the dog tomorrow, she needs hands.”

“More hands make less work.”

“Especially with the damn dog.” A pause, Soap didn’t even have to look to know Simon was staring down their shepherd dog. “Yes you, ya mutt. Go outside and wait for Mum.”

There was the scratching of the dog’s claws as he bounded back outside, barking happily as you walked in, hands dragging down your dirtied dress with a smile. Claire cooed in Soap’s grasp, Simon’s hand gently brushed through his husband’s hair. The dog followed you as you closed the front door, then to your dirt dusted husbands. A kiss to both their lips, then one to the blonde hair of your baby.

“Did ya want me to cook?” Simon murmured as Soap pressed kisses to your cheek, you pulled away from him and your daughter to stretch your arms above your head.

“You’d set the cabin on fire.”

“She’s right, Si-“

“Shut up.”

“Simon, baby, get my dress.” You turned your back, he instantly began to loosen your corset upon your request. “Just wanna feed the baby and go to bed.”

“Gotta eat, love.” Soap’s hand settled on your leg, big smile on his face. “At least you do.”

You nodded, gazing at your happy baby in his lap. “I’ll feed ‘er after Simon burns the house down.” Simon tugged on the strings of your corset, making you wobble on your feet. You whipped your head around to see him smirk. “Don’t be trouble, Simon, it doesn’t end well.”

“‘Course it doesn’t.” He glanced up to you before he pulled your dress down your front - you gasped, Soap suddenly stood to take your baby away. “Trouble is what made that little one, Little Bird.” You were spun around, callused hands picked you up and brought you the few feet to the massive bed in the adjacent room - Simon placed you in the middle of the bed, yanking off your dress and leaving you in your chemise and stockings. Yet, he didn’t pursue what he usually would - instead, he kissed your lips and smiled. “I’ll make dinner. Rest.”

Soap instantly appeared, bouncing around little Claire in her dress that once matched yours. He smirked, gazing at your shocked expression. “Dinna worry, we’ll ravage ya when the babe’s asleep.”

[witchthewriter]

𝑻𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝑺𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒘/ 𝑻𝒂𝒔𝒌 𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒄𝒆 𝟏𝟒𝟏

Price x Wife! Reader

(also you were not the only person he messaged that to. Ghost and Laswell were victims of the prank as well)

[haztory]

[Rain, for good luck.]

⤷ johnny "soap" mactavish x f!reader; wedding fluff (w.c 1.5k)

a.n: i cannot stop thinking about a wedding with johnny. here you go

It’s a simple affair, probably at your own insistence, probably in theme considering the equally simple proposal. A presentation of a ring on an early Tuesday morning in your kitchen, your hair messy, sleep still on your breath as you brew two cups of coffee for you and him. He’s on his knee, then. Smiling wide in his sleep shorts, more sure of this than he could have ever been sure of anything. 

The notice of marriage is sent to the registrar that week, a date for your elopement picked for six months later. 

You’re able to squeeze a booking for a country estate beside a lake and it's perfect. Only immediate family and a few of your closest friends are in attendance, the same for Johnny. Your friends bunking in rooms together with his friends, your families closer than they have ever been before, laughter filling the estate as they all come to celebrate the weekend of your wedding. The smile never ceases from Johnny’s face and despite the chaos that comes with the whirlwind decision to get married (and the endless teasing accusations of a hidden pregnancy, of which you vehemently deny and he seems to smugly not deny), Johnny has never looked more content. 

The day of is an exciting blur, beautiful nonetheless. Cloudy, but the sun beams brightly behind them as a slow breeze sways through the estate. You awake in your bridal suite alone until you’re quickly joined by the number of women who flit and bounce through your room in elation. Your bridal party fusses over your makeup, adjusting pieces of your hair lightly to fit the style you want, crying tears of joy all the while. Your dress lays elegantly pressed in its protective sleeve on the neatly made bed, your shoes sitting beside it. 

It’s a snapshot of a moment, delight tangible and permeating. It breathes through the room, light and airy, the anticipation of it—of marrying him— an addictive high that you inhale with deep breaths and hold steady within the locket of your heart. Your dress sits, almost beckoning you into its awaiting caress; Into the future that waits for you in the love and embrace of the man who could hardly delay until dawn broke before asking you to be his forever. You reach for it, letting the long awaited hold consume you—it’s a sweet and dreamy becoming. The softness of the built love enveloping you in the tendrils of its blossoming, and your mother remarks with a teary smile that you are glowing.

You’re walking down the aisle an hour later. Johnny stands at the end, dressed in the ceremonial regimental uniform, and the smile—the same smile that’s been plastered on his face the whole weekend since you arrived at the estate, the same smile that greets you every morning and night—falters in place when his eyes land on yours. It turns watery, and the breath that he takes upon seeing you is heavy. He’s quick to wipe his eyes with his thumb, but you see it even from the distance. 

You’re married soon thereafter. Pledges exchanged, vows uttered sacredly to one another as only those who matter look on you. Even then, it feels like it’s just you two; You and Johnny standing beside the lake as nature sings her blessing into the union, and grants permission for man to kiss his bride. And you’ve kissed Johnny before, many times before, and yet, this one is different. It stills earth and life to this moment; all that could be transforming holy within the second, transcending beyond this plane of existence and into the next. A formidable, stilling, precious moment. 

You become his, he becomes yours. Forever. 

Even when a light drizzle of rain falls upon you in the seal of the kiss, the sky turning a darkening gray in a split second, nothing tramples the becoming. As rain falls harder and your guests run back into the stone house with screeches of shock and surprise on their tongues, you and Johnny fall into a suspended laugh. 

“We should go with them.” You tell your husband—husband— as your veil sticks to you like second skin now from the wet and the point in your heels begins to sink into the mud of the grass. 

“Let’s stay out here.” He tells you, one arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer to him, the other hand cupping the side of your face. Droplets drip down his nose in the downpour, but the grin grows even wider as he leans forward for another kiss, “I wan’ tae enjoy my wife.”

Shared kisses turn feverish in a slow burn, Johnny pulling more and more from the depths of you as his hold tightens and you both stand alone to bask in the luck of your joy. Eternity could be spent out here, and you suppose maybe that’s what marriage is all about. Only when you are called inside by your respective families—”Get oot o’ the rain, ye eejit lovebirds!” His sister had yelled— do you return to the realm of mortals, of simple reality. 

Singing, and dancing, and speeches, drinks spilled and stomachs clenching in on themselves as full bellied laughter turns to painful wheezing. Johnny’s sisters crowd around you, blubbering at how grateful that their bawbag of a brother caught someone like ye, your parents charmed evermore as Johnny sits beside them and talks their ears off about the the history of this particular part of the country, and you catch from the corner of your eye two shared friends of yours finally making their move on one another. Caught in the wistfulness of romance, they lean close to one another and you make a mental note to tell Johnny that he now owes you ten foot massages.

The reception is the gateway to the rest of your life—and it's wonderful.

The party goes well into the night and when you return to your bridal suite, Johnny is in tow. Your heels are held in his hand and his suit jacket is draped over your shoulders. Giggles peter out into tired sighs and he flops onto your bed with little reservation when you open the door. 

“We should consummate.” He mutters to the ceiling, eyes closed as you unlace his dress shoes and tug them off. He heaves a great breath of relief when they’re off of his feet, “Lemme make a real woman out o’ ye.”

“How romantic.” You laugh, tossing his shoes to the side before falling on top of him, nuzzling your own tired head into the crook of his neck, inhaling the faded scent of his cologne and the warmth of his own musk. His hand caresses your back, following a familiar pattern of tracing onto your spine. “Think I was already a real woman before you met me, though.”

“Aye, ‘s probably why I liked ye so much.”

You hum amusedly and sweet silence befalls the two of you. Slow breaths of honeyed happiness that dips into the steady cadence of welcome sleep. You’re halfway to dozing off entirely when he pats you gently, whispering about a bath. He takes the lead, unzipping your dress and laying it with considerable care on the bed before drawing yourself and him into the shower. He washes you both as you lean against him, the warm spray and the soothing strokes of his hands on your neck, your shoulders, your back, lull you deeper into him, deeper into the embrace of sleep.

You awake the next morning to the filtered light of gentle sunlight in your eyes. It’s hard to fight the stickiness of slumber, especially since you know that you have nothing pressing on the agenda for today—but in the stretch of your body against the sheets warmed with rest, your foot touches that of another; And you realize, you haven’t woken up alone this time. 

Your husband—husband!—sleeps soundly beside you; His hair is pulled in tufts that you know he’ll soon shave back to his signature mohawk come deployment time, deep breaths exhale from his slightly open mouth, the sheets tangled between his legs as one rests in the cool air of the room and the other lies next to yours underneath the duvet. 

It’s quiet in the estate, hardly anyone awake or moving just yet as you sit up in your bed, surveying the state of the room in the glow of a peaceful morning. Johnny’s suit is crumpled by the bathroom floor, your bouquet and other gifted flowers decorate the surfaces around the suite, and your dress lays worn and loved at the foot of the bed, white chiffon spilling over his exposed foot and onto the footbed. 

This is the rest of your life. An eventful night; a romantic sight. Youthful longing and late-night fantasies suddenly forgotten worries as they are fulfilled in this moment alone.

You fall back into the bed, attaching yourself into Johnny’s side and breathing him in. 

“Still need to make an honest woman o’ ye, Mrs. MacTavish.” A glance upward reveals that his eyes are still closed. You fix yourself into him deeper, wrapping your arm around his bare chest as you lay your head against him. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in tighter. 

“‘m counting on it, Mr. MacTavish.”

He smiles and you both return to the homecoming of sleep as rain begins to tap gently on the windows of your life together.

(Rain, for good luck.) 

[myfamilycrestisthedemonofdeath]

Unhinged reader shenanigans with 141

Laswell: when I said get creative on your attires, this is not what I meant

Johnny, dressed up like the sluttiest french maid with cat ears and tail and fishnet stockings in heels, ass is barely covered

Kyle, full on geralt of rivia from witcher 3 cosplay with the wig and chainmail and contact lenses and swords from a ren faire visit

Price, looking like a ketchup bottle with a bright red vest that goes to his knees and a hat that looks like a traffic cone painted red, costume courtesy of spirit halloween

Simon, in his normal clothes with a Jason Vorhees hockey mask instead of a skull mask on his balaclava

You, in an inflatable Barney the Dinosaur costume: but it's halloween

Laswell: THIS IS A STAKE OUT

[harpsinfinity]

One more thing before I shut off my silky smooth brain

HES SO FUCKING BEAUTIFUL OH MY GOD HIS EYESSSSS

[captainsaveawoah]

GHOULJAMS REBLOGGED MY BRAINTROT 😭 why is everyone so sad?? Simon got a decent happy ending tho! Also I CAN NOT BELIEVE HOW MUCH ATTENTION THIS GOT. Thank you all. You made the little boy in me so happy <3

Idk. Something, something secret baby/double life except Johnny and you are together and you’re kept a secret (surprise the man is secretive about his life) from the team.

Bit of a timeline au, You date a few years, you two get married, but it’s still all a secret. Price has an idea, his will has changed, signed off on it himself but doesn’t dig too deep, knows his boys will come to him.

Gaz is the first to comment, Johnny never taking anyone home. Can hear the man most nights finishing into his hands with a groan that sounds something like a name. Johnny just laughs and tips his beer, steering the conversation away.

Ghost though. Can see it. The way Johnny, despite wanting to charge in, gun ‘em down, will take caution, the worry in his words when he’s hurt or downed, not for himself but for someone at home.

Yet, Johnny stays quiet. Doesn’t say a word, rushes back to a “cold, empty apartment” Simon can tell when he and his bird are having a rough patch (little bit of a ghoap thing because they are as gay as they come idk) can tell when Johnny and his bird are in a good place. But the man doesn’t say a damned thing.

You and Johnny have sex… a lot of sex, when he’s home of course. A young couple, so in love, so happy, so wrapped in each other it’s like you made for one another.

You get married, he builds you a house, moves you to Scotland of course. “Need our weens to speak like their papa, yeah?” Knocks you up. Gives you THE CHUBBIEST little boy with his daddies eyes. You know about the task force, know they don’t know about you. You wish they did, wish you knew them personally, they’re the only family Johnny has, but you know Johnny keeps you away for your safety.

He’s about 3 when Simon is at your door. Your eyes widen, like you think you’re dreaming before your on the ground screaming and BEGGING Simon to say it’s not true.

The big guy sticks around, Johnny had felt he wouldn’t come home on this one, told Simon about you before the mission. Asked him to look after you and his son if he doesn’t make it home for supper. Ghost shrugs him off, makes some stupid joke but watches Johnny’s body crumple to the ground as he gets shot in the head.

Johnny told him it had to be him, “Kyle’s got a bird. Captain’s got too much on his plate. Plus you seem to escape death at every turn. Need you to take care of my heart.”

Your son is quick to take to Simon. You not so much, he hangs around, eats all your food, changes his clothes all the time, crowds your space while you grieve the man who became your whole.

But there are days, when you hear Simon and think it’s Johnny. There are days when Simon holds your son and you see Johnny. There are days when Simon’s head is between your thighs you feel like it’s Johnny. You feel bad, he tells you it’s okay. And you believe him, you feel it, mourn it with each passing day, knowing that one day you’ll look up and see only Simon, Johnny will always be there, but one day it’ll just be Simon.

Idk tho.

[beloveds-embrace]

(more of poly 141 x roommate reader bc i got enabled: surprising them when they return home)

The aroma of roasted garlic and thyme filled the apartment, and along with it your voice as you fluttered about the kitchen while music played from your phone. You placed plates of perfectly golden roast chicken, mashed potatoes and roasted vegetables on the dining table beside bowls of creamy mushroom soup and a fresh salad and freshly baked bread.

You would never regret that cooking course you picked up. Everything just looked so… perfect. And that was without mentioning the apple pie and chocolate cake you’d also made, set aside on cute little cake pedestals you’d recently bought.

You smoothed the fabric of your skirt, picking up your phone to check on the time; they’d arrive home any moment now and you couldn’t wait to see their reactions. You’d been planning this dinner since yesterday, when Kate Laswell had called to let you know your roommates would be home today after months of being away on a mission so you could prepare this surprise for them.

You’d promised to send her and her lovely wife a big, big portion just for helping you like that. You always get worried when they take this long, but Kate tried her best to keep you up to date about them whenever they had to be no-contact with you.

The sound of the front door unlocking made your pulse quicken, and you hurried to the entryway, a bright smile on your face. You’d made sure even the candles you and Gaz like to collect were lit up, bathing the apartment in a soft golden light.

“Surprise!” you called, spreading your arms as they stepped inside, grin wide and proud.

For a moment, they stood frozen, tired eyes sweeping over the sight of you and the glowing apartment and the lovely smell of a big, warm dinner. Price was the first to move, dropping his bag and crossing the room in several long strides. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a firm embrace, and you melted against him right away, breathing in the familiar scent of him- smoke, leather, and something uniquely John.

“Hi!” You chirped again, patting his back.

“You’ve outdone yourself, love.” he murmured instead of a proper greeting, voice thick with gratitude.

Soap was next, scooping you into a hug so enthusiastic it lifted you off your feet right after John let you go. “Missed ya, lass,” he said, his grin bright despite the weariness in his eyes. “Look at ya, a sight fo’ sore eyes!”

“Put me down, MacTavish!”

Gaz kissed your cheek the second Johnny obeyed, his hand lingering on your shoulder. “You didn’t have to do all this, darling.” he said softly, though the way he looked at you made it clear he appreciated every bit of it.

Ghost, towering behind them, stood silently for a moment. His eyes roamed over you, taking in the nervous smile tugging at your lips. Without a word, he stepped forward and pulled you into his chest, one large hand cradling the back of your head.

“Perfect girl, thank you.” he muttered, so low you barely heard it. But you did feel it rumble through his body.

You laughed, stepping back and gesturing toward the table. You had to know what they thought of it. “Go wash up. Dinner’s ready.”.

Johnny piled his plate high, moaning exaggeratedly at every bite and making you laugh until your sides hurt. Gaz teased him about his lack of table manners while sneaking extra bread rolls for himself. Price, ever the gentleman, made sure your plate was full before his own, and Simon quietly made his way through two full helpings even, the corner of his mouth twitching into the faintest smile when you nudged him to try the mushroom sauce.

Oh yes, you cooked. In more ways than one. You were so very proud of yourself, felt like you’d blow up like a balloon if they complimented you any more.

“This is the best meal I’ve had in months,” Johnny declared at last, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied sigh and patting his stomach. He turned to you, gently caressing his knuckles across your full cheeks. “Thank ya, lass. Truly an angel.”

“You’ve ruined me for army food forever,” Kyle added, humming as he bit into another spoonful, smiling at your giggles. “Whatever next mission we’ll have is so going to suck, by the way. I mean it.”

Price reached over, covering your hand with his. “You didn’t have to do all this, love, but I’m damn glad you did,” he said, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. His mustache twitched, and he smiled at you. “Kyle’s right, though.”

Simon didn’t speak much, but the way his gaze lingered on you, warm and heavy, spoke volumes. You’d already learned how to decipher his little looks, anyways.

As the evening wound down and they cleaned the kicthen, then went to rest in the living room, you brought out the second surprises: the chocolate cake and apple pie, earning a round of groans and cheers. They insisted on helping with the second round of dishes, but you waved them off, laughing.

“Go relax,” you said, shooing them toward the living room. “This is my treat for you. You were supposed to be relaxing today!”

Though you didn’t notice the way they watched you as you moved about the kitchen.

When you finally joined them, changing into something more comfortable, you curl up on the couch tucked against Simon’s warm side and his arm drape around your shoulders almost instinctively. Soap stretched out across the floor, his head resting on a pillow near your feet, while Kyle sat on the other side of you, casually brushing his hand against yours.

It didn’t take much before you were dozing off, their quiet congestion washing over you as a soothing ambiance. You relaxed even further when you were shifted to lay fully against Simon while Kyle put your feet on his lap and began massaging your calves.

John stood by the balcony, his cigar glowing faintly in the dim light. He looked at you, surrounded by them, and something in his chest loosened.

You were too good for them, truly. Such a lovely, perfect sweetheart. But he also just- couldn’t stand the idea of you being with anyone else. Never.

So he wouldn’t entertain that thought. You were perfect as you were now; just a bit more time, and they’d tell you right out how much they want you in every possible way.

Though he didn’t imagine it’d be that hard, anyways. You already acted like their perfect little wife.

[cupids-dove]

WAIT. FUCK. I LOVE THIS AU??? WITCH BAKER??? WITCH BAKER!!!!

on the fantasy aus.. witch!reader who bakes her spells into pastries and stirs them into drinks at her little cafe and perchance any one of the 141 boys being a frequent customer? big ol knight who needs a little pick me up sometimes?

You’re getting all of them because sometimes I look at these asks and otome games flash in my mind

Gaz, to be quite honest, is mostly here for the pastries and tea. The magic stuff is just a bonus. As a result, the charms he gets are very simple, mostly cosmetic stuff. Clearing under eye bags, whitening teeth, stuff like that. His relentless flirting does not get him free hand pies, much to his dismay.

Soap is on that painkiller pastry grindset. He has various chronic pains that you have spells to soothe in the form of blueberry and cheese danishes. And he probably gets a horrifically sweet drink with whatever the magic equivalent of adderall is. He dabbles in apothecary himself, so he likes to flirt by talking shop with you about potions and reagents.

Ghost comes in like clockwork. Right before closing every day that you’re open. Gets a sleepy time tea and whatever pastry has got the dreamcatcher spell in it. Always overpays and refuses to take any change. Every time he casually reminds you that the offer for marriage is still open, but you’re not yet entirely convinced it’s not just a ploy to have a limitless supply of your tea.

Price is not here for the pastry or the magic— he’s here to wife you the fuck up, to be honest. He sees that you’re hardworking and talented as well as stunning. In addition, he thinks you should come work in the palace to provide your services to the royal guard, rather than running this tiny shop on a side street in town. So he’s trying to sweep you up on two fronts.

König gets the same kind of spells as most knights— treats to soothe various pains and accelerate healing, drinks that encourage pleasant dreams. His most frequent orders are for fruit tarts that increase luck and fortune— sometimes he gets the ones for coming battles, but mostly he gets the ones that are meant to bring luck in matters of the heart. He’s desperately hoping you’ll get the hint soon.

Nik travels vast distances often, and is one of your primary suppliers for ingredients. He’s guilty of regularly offering steep discounts in exchange for kisses (you’ve limited it to just the cheek). He also likes to remind you that you wouldn’t have to compensate him at all if this were more of a family business between you two, yes?

[lethalchiralium]

“Look what Daddy got ye, Claire.” Johnny smirked at his little blonde babe, the girl clapping her little hands at him with a toothless smile. In his hand was a little stuffed rabbit, fabric hand-sewn from the market in town. “Here ye go, lass.”

The baby squealed in her high chair, she clutched her new toy in her hand while she eyed it curiously. Johnny leaned down and kissed her curls, the little thing squealed again. He felt a gentle hand on his lower back, he didn’t even have to look to know it was Simon.

“Didn’t hear ya come in.”

Johnny chuckled a little before standing up straight, hand seeking purchase on some inch of Simon’s side. He peered into view, Johnny’s hand settled on Simon’s hip before he kissed him. “Thought th’ babe was nappin’, so ah was quiet.”

Simon nodded towards Claire, his own hand gripped Johnny’s side. “She’s been lookin’ around for you all day. Little Bird found it funny, she laughed and made Claire cry.”

Johnny looked back at his daughter - who was chewing on an arm of her toy - then back to his husband. “Where is the wife anyway?”

“Laid up in bed. Woke up ill.”

Johnny gave a curious look, Simon smacked his side.

“Haven’t been doin’ anything, Johnny. You know that.” His hand reached for Claire, gently petting her shoulder. “She’s not sure she even wants another now. Mad that she’s sick ‘cause Claire was.”

“Mm.” Johnny nodded before he turned to look into the bedroom, seeing the shape of you underneath the quilts. “Join us when she’s down?”

Simon kissed him again, quick and chaste but with a smile. “Always.”

Johnny moved into the bedroom with a couple steps, his smile large as he slipped under the quilt with you. “Hello, Little Bird.”

“Gon’ get you sick.”

His head settled on yours, arm on your side and wrapped around your front. “Don’t matter.”

“You’ve got horse duty tomorrow.”

“Ah know it.”

“Johnny…”

He kissed your cheek before closing his eyes. “Sleep, Little Bird. Jus’ wanna hold ye.”

[d-emeter]

Types of lingerie they'd go a little feral over — plus-size!fem!reader x cod characters

Includes: Price, Soap, Ghost, Gaz, König, Graves, Alejandro, Rudy, Valeria

CW: mid/plus-size reader, photos of people wearing lingerie!, mentions of sex/sexual activities

Photos are not indicative of reader's body type/skin colour/other physical attributes! Just meant to be examples, but us bigger girls deserve some rep on here (but also why is it so hard to find cute pics of mid/plus-size girlies that aren't ads or extremely edited?)

All rights go to owners of the photos! I tried to crop out their faces as best I could <3

John Price

Price would love anything feminine. He adores when you play into his housewife kink, parading around the house in babydoll dresses and fur-lined robes (preferably sheer). He wouldn't even bother with taking the pieces off once he gets his hands on you, simply pulling and adjusting where necessary. Not above ripping either, but don't worry, he'll gladly buy you some new sets. Maybe he should get you some of those crotchless panties, poppet, would save him a lot of hassle.

Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish

Listen, as much as he loves it seeing you all dolled up, there is nothing that gets him going quicker than you in some raggedy, hole-ridden comfy clothes, preferably when they're his. His boxers framing your plump ass so nicely, digging into your flesh a bit when you move and his shirt doing nothing to hide the jiggle of your tits while your nipples poke through the fabric. If he sees you like this, his hands are all over you in a split second. God forbid your shirt is cropped, showing off your soft tummy and the underside of your breasts — you couldn't pry him off with a crowbar.

(you cannot tell me Johnny doesn't own some dumbass boxers like this)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

In fear of repeating myself, I think Simon would also go a little dreamy-eyed over you in your comfies. Except, unlike Johnny, he loves those sweet little pj-sets you wear. He's still a little taken aback every time he comes home to you curled up on his — your — couch. The realization that he has something this sweet to come home to — that he has a home at all, hitting him like a freight train. Like Price, doesn't bother taking your pajamas off when he pounces on you. Just makes it easier for him to tuck you into bed after he's done with you.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

Garters, belts, straps, buckles, the whole thing. And best believe he's the one picking them out, too. You'll randomly find boxes on your bed, the contents in different styles, colours, fabrics. He insists you model them for him, or send him pictures if he's deployed. The sets are an absolute nightmare to get into, but he'll gladly help you take them off, darlin'. Don't mind him though, if he snaps a photo or two in the process. Also loves it when you wear lingerie as part of an actual outfit. What can I say, the man loves showing you off (with the knowledge he's the only one that gets to see the full sets and everything underneath them later).

König

Anything resembling some cheap halloween costume from party city. It honestly doesn't matter to him what; sexy secretary, naughty nurse, you name it. Literally whatever. He will lose his mind a little if you go as far as to engage in some roleplay pertaining to whatever you're wearing — acting like he's your boss or your patient. Oh, a pair of animal ears can and will make his eyes roll back in his head. (He will, however, ensure that your outfits are of relatively good quality — they've gotta outlast a least a few rounds, Schatzi).

Philip Graves

Ugh, he's so nasty (affectionate). He wants you to look hyper-feminine. His perfect little all-american wife (even if you've never set foot in the usa, or don't yet wear a ring on your finger) in her hyper-feminine lingerie, waiting for her soldier to come home. Frilly bras, lacy undies and silky night dresses in white or pink or any pastel shade. He gets off on the innocence they exude — makes him want to ruin you. And then wife you up. Maybe give you a baby or two.

Alejandro Vargas

Corsets!!! Or anything somewhat structured, really. This man adores the shape of your body no matter what, and the way the corset only accentuates the curve of your waist and pushes your tits up so deliciously has him rock fucking hard. If you choose to add some thigh-highs to that with the plush fat of your thighs spilling over the edge you may as well have killed him. He also has this weird infatuation with the marks the corset leaves on your skin after you (or he) take it off.

Rodolfo 'Rudy' Parra

This poor man nearly faints the first time you wear lingerie for him (and pretty much every time after that). It doesn't particularly matter to him what it is, but he does like it when you stick to the classics: simple lacy bra and panty set. He likes that it makes you feel confident and (relatively) comfortable, as your comfort is always his number one priority. He also just thinks the simplicity of the sets helps accentuate the beauty of your body, rather than distract from it.

Valeria Garza

Anything expensive. Like, crazy expensive. She has the money, amor, why not spend it on something she enjoys? She'll make sure you only wear the highest quality fabrics (and that goes for all your clothing, by the way, she likes taking care of her girl). There are diamonds glittering all over your body, highlighting all your curves and twinkling with every move you make, and a nice string of pearls disappearing between your folds.

(I couldn't find ANY photos of this type of lingerie on bigger bodies, my apologies. Rest assured Valeria will get everything custom-made for you — remember, only the best for her girl)